Twenty-Five (Random) Fings About Me

With the sub-heading 'Which You Probably Couldn't Care Less About' and a sub-sub heading of 'And that's ok with me - I'm not sure I care much either - I'm just curious to see what I come up with.'

*Are We Having Fun Yet?

And so - here tis. The Grand Presentation of Twenty-Five Things About Me (in no particular metaphysical, spiritual, physical, mental, elemental or logical order) as encouraged by the whimsical dark lord Mon.

1. I adore thunderstorms, rain on my roof at night and the dark. I am also a secret fan of primal screaming. Especially at the sea, in a thunderstorm at night. I once led an impromptu group primal screaming session at the sea in Penzance in Cornwall which left us all hoarse for a day.

2. My mother Glaswegian and a proud and fiery MacDonald and we are direct descendants of Flora MacDonald, who helped bonnie Prince Charlie escape by dressing him up as a serving maid. We have visited her cottage and there was an oil painting of her over the hearth which I swear was the spitting image of my mum.

3. I am a love child. My father emmigrated to Australia (Melbourne we think) when I was born. Apparently I looked exactly like him when I was born. I would like to meet him one day just to see.

4. My favourite flower is the Stargazer Lily (like Earthenwitch). I wore them in my hair when I got married, had them in my bouquet and named my first born after them. Lucky it was a girl, huh. I am also entirely too carried away by the smell of Jasmine, Gardenias, Frangipani's and Lemon tree blossoms twining around a soft summer's night wind.

5. I can never remember where to put apostrophes despite living with the King of Grammar himself.

6. I have met a rather large number of famous people. I have been mostly underwhelmed by them.

7. I'm never sure whether to call myself 'psychic' (though I come from a family of fairly gifted ones) but I am sometimes spookily intuitive. It is unfortunately not a very reliable talent and cannot be called upon at will. I would like to develop it but I have no brain cells left with which to study. I have a 2-year old instead. I did once 'cloud-bust' at primary school and predict that a someone on the playground would need to be careful on her way home. She nearly got run over. I also had a precognitive 'shiver' when I met the hubble and knew I'd end up with him.

8. I can tap dance. I used to be a very gifted dancer in most areas actually (and have the medals to prove it). I still love dance and cry when I watch So You Think You Can Dance. That show literally gives me chills.

9. In the words of my favourite cartoon character, Lola, I do not never, ever want to see a ghost but like Mulder, I believe. I also seem to attract a lot of people into my life who CAN see them. Spooky buggars.

10. Though I love the outdoors and have the deepest most passionate love of nature and our beautiful world, I am not a happy camper. Literally.

11. I have very strong craft envy but cannot sew or knit or cook (not as well as I'd like anyway) or bake or crochet or paint. I do enjoy working with clay and occasionally stuff just comes through me and I create something truly magical without meaning to. I like those days. I did once win a medal for painting at primary school. I painted a picture of what I thought the queens dress would be like for her Jubilee celebration. Medals are cool providing you don't have to fight a war to win one.

*The Nornir or Fates

12. I don't believe in fate. I believe we come in with a set of lessons to explore but that we still have the choice about whether we do them or not. That's where free will comes into incarnation and where we have numerous opportunities to stuff it all up royally or learn from it. I believe there is a higher power guiding us throughout our lives and I try to connect with that as often as possible and then get the feck out of my own way. And that is just about as hard as it sounds.

13. I love mythology. All mythological and spiritual traditions interest me but I am particularly drawn to Celtic Mythology, Shamanism particularly Celtic and Native American traditions and practices. I love the simplicity and peacefulness of Buddhism and the mystical fire and wonderful imagination of the Egyptian and Greek pantheons. I also have rather a morbid fascination with the religious practices of the Maya and Inca. Disappearing civilisations fascinate me. I want to know what happened.

14. I want to learn to play the guitar (accoustic) and I want to re-learn to play the piano as I am very musical and learned the piano, flute and violin (which I hated with a fiery passion) at school. I actually simply wanted to play the guitar, all the other things were offered as an alternative. I was part of both the orchestra and the choir at senior school. I played a mean variety of percussion. I sing well (strong mezzo soprano) and loudly when no-one else is around.

15. I am an actor. I want to return to it one day. I was drawn to it because I get to be other people all the time. There is nothing more fascinating to me than other people. Paradoxically, for a people that thrive, nay demand, attention, I am also terribly self-conscious.

16. I absolutely love the sea. It calls to me like a Siren and I will drive for many hours to be in its company but I am always very nervous when in it or on it.

17. I have never really felt safe. Ever. I am like this character from the Catherine Tate show. Having said that I am stubborn and willful and extremely capable - I tend not to let fear stop me from doing anything.



18. My best(and oldest)friend is a giant queen. We met at school the age of 13, saw Desperately Seeking Susan at the cinema and danced all the way home. We were deeply united through this love of dance - he's never had a lesson but he was so good and the only boy I've ever met who could dance 'properly' as in express himself through it. We've seen each other through a lot of change and we still make each other laugh. That's priceless.

19. I wish I had been at woodstock. In fact, I would have loved to have lived in the full swing of the 60's. I am a card carrying, bead wearing, incense burning, ankle-braceleted flower child and no mistake.

20. Jobs I have had: Shower model, podium dancer, burger slinger at MacDonalds, waitress, PA, masseuse, shoe shop assistant, record shop assistant, workshop co-ordinator for this bloke, New Age Centre assistant manager (the shop has changed hands and focus now but it was wonderful), writer and theatre dresser. I am currently the owner and creator of The Divine Feminine - offering spiritually nourishing alternatives to things like baby showers and hen nights. It's good fun and we do it all in a beautiful red tent!

21. I love receiving letters in the mail. I think that though email is definitely more instantly gratifying, there is something lovely about receiving a letter via post.

22. I am completely addicted to books. I am a pathological (and totally unrepentant) book slut. I can't get enough of them and I am royally abusing my local library at the moment in an attempt to stop spending vast quantities of money on them. It's very hard because I wants it. My precious....

23. Motherhood does not come easily to me but I love my daughter fiercely, passionately and with all my heart. It is my dearest wish to be a better mother.

24. I believe in a higher power and I believe that I am here to do something that only I can do. I am just sifting, exploring and waiting to discover what it is.

25. One day I'd like to train to be a tantra teacher, write a book that makes people laugh out loud, cry like babies and open their hearts to the world and get my (24 year old) body back - preferably through the art of bellydancing. Yes - I want a body like Shakira.

An Award

Well, aren’t I a lucky girl. I’ve just been nominated for another blog award. I’m always deeply touched when people enjoy what I have written and if what I write can help someone who might be struggling a bit, as we all do from time to time, then that is a massive bonus.

The prize is given for recognition of cultural, ethical, literary, & personal values transmitted in the form of creative & original writing. These stamps were created with the intention of promoting fraternization between bloggers, a way of showing affection & gratitude for work that adds value to the Web.

Though I am not sure that my blog really qualifies in the’ cultural, ethical and literary values’ categories, I am deeply chuffed by this award. Thanks so much The Journey for your nomination. Like you, I have enjoyed discovering and revelling in all the wonderful new blogs out there.

The Rules:

1) Accept the award by posting on your blog along w/ the name of the person that has granted the award & a link to his/her blog.

2) Pass the award to another 5 blogs that are worthy of this acknowledgment, remembering to contact each of them to let them know they have been selected for this award.

In accordance with the ‘Rules’ I hereby pass on this flaming torch - as is right and good.

My Top 5 Blogs are:

1. Mon from Holistic Mamma. A woman of enormous heart and much earthy wisdom she has quite a few blogs including one entirely dedicated to all things herby and hearth-y. Check her out. In the words of Flight of the Conchords you got it goin’ on’.

2. Soulemamma – because her photography is just beautiful and because I enjoy her soulful posts so much. Check out her Winter Manifesto for some ideas of how to really savour the present.

3. DocWitch from over at The Dark Side of the Broom – because I love her blog the most and though I have nominated her for other awards, I think her stuff is full of culture, is very literary and I know her to be an extremely ethical woman. This is where I go for spiritual succour and a good laugh.

4. Simple, Green, Frugal because we ALL need to have access to this information and I’m trying my very hardest to be more of all three.

5. Happy Earth. This is fantastic work and I am really inspired by what these guys have been able to achieve. Take a look at what can be done with some imagination and a lot of hard work. Wonderful stuff!

That’s it. Looking forward to a bit more of a proper post when I have more time. You know. In between looking after small fractious (bordering on feral) 2-yr old and the business and maybe squeezing in a visit to the bathroom by myself.

The Devoted Heart

*Fire Woman

Well, with temperatures increasing again towards a scorching 43 degrees tomorrow - we are girding our loins, packing our bags and heading out of the hills to the relative comfort of St Kilda beach. The horror heat along with the forecast 100mph winds are definite bad guys in the war against bush fires and we are in no way prepared to stay and defend our property, hence our decision to get thee hence! When I say 'willing' I actually mean we have no credible fire safety plan rather than being prepared to stay and fight fire with, well hopefully, water. Besides which, our house feels like its on fire even when it's not - we have no air conditioning, a fractious toddler and a whinging pom (that would be me then) to deal with, so it's really best for everyone concerned if we stay away for the day.

As I completely buggared up my back last weekend and then had the chiro add insult to injury on Thursday, leaving me in great pain and in need of ice packs and a babysitter, I am currently about as flexible as the mummified remains of an episcopalian priest. This adds to the desire to get the hell away from any potential fire lest I become good kindling. Tomorrow is also the St Kilda Festival and that is very definitely another reason for leaving my home and heeding the call of the Siren of the Sea.

So - I am currently bubsy free (and missing her a bit if I'm honest) and am likely to be so until tomorrow morning. I know that I whinge a lot about wanting some time off from the crazy path of motherhood and then, when someone kindly obliges, I miss her horribly and fear that I will never see her again. I had to have my Bean fix, so I called up nanna and had a long discourse with Beanie about the relative merits of hanging up washing with pegs and a book that had a cow and a duck and a horse and a duck and a sheep and a duck in it. It was delightful. I'm a very lucky woman even if I often feel like a Banshee in dire need of prozac.

My darling Docwitchy is going through a tough time right now which has come unfortunately swiftly upon the heels of extricating herself from another tough time. My love goes out to you dearest rose of my heart. Remember to breathe and take it all one step at a time. It is often better to let go of the ultimate destination and simply trust in the step that is currently being illuminated.

Apart from the heat, the aching back and the sadness of dear friends, I am feeling more centred than I have in a long while. Mothering often produces more downs than ups for me and I end up in this giant whirlpool of regret being sucked under by guilt and by my concern about my ability to parent Beanie well. I know that regret and guilt are self-defeating emotions but it doesn't always help to know that. If that makes any sense. I am, more often than I wish, a not very good parent. I won't go into long boring detail about it all. I've said it all before. It just seems that despite my understanding of why I do what I do, I am still unable to prevent myself from doing it. Knowledge and wisdom are not the same thing.

This morning, after the first uninterrupted nights sleep in a long while, I meditated not once but twice. I immediately felt calmer and more present. It reminded me of my desire to connect more readily with Spirit and to really fully awaken the Divine within me. I have often said that it is not a matter of changing who we are but of becoming who we really are. I like that idea so much more than the idea of having to become someone different from who I am. It's not that I won't change, it's more that the changes will not be enforced upon me from outside of myself - like squeezing myself into an ill fitting shoe. Unravelling is really where its at. Peeling back the layers of 'stuff' that accumulate upon one's soul and around one's true heart. The layers that mask our true selves from each other and very definitely from ourselves. I sometimes think that my heart is like a ruby covered by dirt and dust and leaves and 39 years worth of misunderstanding and hurt, shame and confusion. Every time I meditate, I feel like I start the process of lifting some of that debris from around my jewel bright heart. I start the process of allowing that heart to breathe some love into me. Of course, I often ignore it completely and find myself too 'busy' to meditate or find that something or someone pops up to prevent it from happening. I think that maybe this is just an outward sign of my inner resistance. I have to be prepared to do it anyway. To take this time to reconnect and to find my stillness and my breath and my ability to simply surrender to the moment, no matter what it contains.

Parenting takes us so often away from ourselves. From our needs, our desires, our dreams and our creativity. It need not be this way. I mean, of course we have less time to devote to these things and to ourselves, but we do have time. We simply have to reclaim it from the myriad of things we lose ourselves in or that we think just cannot wait. TV, reading, tidying up, browsing the internet, writing emails, texting, answering calls - all of these 'needful' things seem to interrupt the flow. We can take back 5 minutes here and 15 minutes there until we have an hour or more of time that we can call ours. Nap time and after bedtime are really good times to try and do something creative when your babies are still small. As they grow in independence, so does our time for ourselves. So even if you can only find 15 minutes in an average day, take it for yourself and use it wisely. Meditate maybe. I write down anything creative as it occurs to me in a notebook I carry with me for this purpose. It helps. I forget less and it doesn't matter if I get distracted once its written. Anyway - that little bit of time for myself this morning helped a lot. I had a bigger smile for strangers and a gladness of heart that is not often present. And of course it made me miss my Beanie very much. I wanted to share my happy heart with her and to show her that sometimes mummy can be very, very good. I think its time I started my 5am vigil again. Time to once again let the Beloved in. What have I to lose except my chains? And what might I yet gain?

* In the arms of The Beloved

When you find yourself with the Beloved, embracing for

one breath,

In that moment you will find your true destiny.

Alas, don't spoil this precious moment

Moments like this are very, very rare.

Rumi

* Fire Woman Picture courtesy of Fire Fairy

*'In the Arms of the Beloved' picture courtesy of Cheryl Alexander Creations

I hear my tribe calling to me as leaves fall like green rain from the oak beside me. I will answer that call today.

May your caravan carry you safely back home to the beloved.

On trying noo things

This will of necessity be a brief interlude as I am laid flat on my back (steady on there!) trying to fangle out hubble's Apple Mac Book to see if having a laptop would be a good move for me. Another reason for the flat on my backishness of this post is because I have pulled, wrenched, yanked and otherwise buggared up my back and so have little choice but to lie prone until it gets better by itself. Or something. There is something slightly liberating about lying about in ones birthday suit with a fan throwing hot air back out all over one. It makes me feel like a card carrying, flower-wearing hippy. I don't know why. The only thing that breaks this somewhat 60's spell is the strangulated vocals and occasional screaming of a young man whose testicles are apparently on fire. No doubt from the bloody desert heat we are enduring, even here in the Nongs. Picture yourself in a scene from Queen of the Damned by Anne Rice and you'll be in the ball park of this sometime Emo village I appear to live in. Even the gangsta's have retreated indoors in the face of such obvious misery.

Despite my 'out of action-ness' and the fact that the internet connection keeps on dropping out, I am reasonably cheery. Perhaps simply because I can do this. Type whilst in bed. Connect with all you souls out there whilst simultaneously spending time in my very favourite place in the whole wide world. I quite like this mac thingy.

I haven't the faintest idea of how to add photos however, so it will be just words rather than any pretty images. If you want pretty images, go on over to Chez DocWitch, she's got some crackers over there.

On Wednesday my friend, Kath, broke her family's record for fast births by bringing into the world her second little soul, James Wyatt, in a record 1 hour after having her waters broken. Mummy and baby are doing well. I would be over there plying her with chocolate and shortbread right now were it not for my knackered back. I can't wait for a cuddle with a newbie. Anyway, the record was previously held by her sister who gave birth to her second child, Hudson, in a mere 2 hours. Can I just say that I would dearly love to get even close to these records when my next little soul puts in an appearance. I would happily forgo another 40 hours of posterior related agony in favour of a quick 1 hour, baby born, bit of shock, eat chocolate scenario. (And yes, I'm aware that I'm being deeply flippant - shock is very serious and I'm quite sure Kath will have her own issues to work through about the birth being that bloody fast, no matter how good it felt to have it over!). Still, I have birth envy. I'll get over it I'm sure.

Still, it does rather raise the question of when will our family be welcoming in their next little spirit? I have been dragging my heels somewhat, I'll admit. Mostly due to being very chubby and wanting to be a bit less chubby before I stack on more in pregnancy. My back is sore now - it will not get less sore with the addition of 20 kilos. Trust me - I've got that t-shirt. However, as those around me extend their little families from one to two and yet others around me consider the implications of adding another one to their brood, I am finding myself more than a little clucky. This is good. It's only taken me 2 years of extreme frustration and hard work to get to this point. Hubble has been wanting a baby for the past year but I have been unready and unwilling to really go for it until now. Now I am impatient. I know. It's just the type of annoying personality I am. I'm sorry. Still, with the work on the tantra column going well (see Living Now for more details) and us getting more opportunities to really connect, I cannot see it being all that long before our little boy (for boy I feel it is) decides to pick an egg and call it home for 9 months. I'm excited and nervous all at the same time, which is to be expected given my mothering journey thus far. I look forward to having another try at this whole labour thing and on being much less of a wussy. Actually, that's a little unfair of me to myself. I had a difficult first birth complicated by a posterior baby and ended up in hospital. This time I would like to carry through on my plans for a home water-birth or at the very least, a birth in water, even if that birth has to be in hospital. I am not really a wussy, I was just blown away by how completely and utterly agonising posterior labour was and had no-one with me that could show me what to do or what to try next to ease it. That's just the way it was. This pregnancy will no doubt be different in many ways but I sincerely hope that one of those ways is that the labour will be less intense so early and that I can cope without intervention. That will go a long way to making this a better birth and an easier introduction to the world for our little man (or girl). Nuff said.

It's hot enough up here to fry an egg on my head (though I don't intend to actually prove that theory), so I'll disappear into my rapidly dehydrating self and take some in some liquids. Gin would be nice.

So, this has been my macbook experience and I'm leaving you with it. Random blatherings on top of the line equipment are over for the day.

May your caravan be fully fitted with air conditioning and may your nights within it be cool and comfortable.

Salut!

The Afternoon of My Life

*This is what I aspired to be in my youth.

I've been thinking lately about an earlier post I made concerning my changing spiritual landscapes. Listening to the lovely Wayne Dyer in my car reminded me that Carl Jung said 'the afternoon of our life cannot be lived by the morning's rhythm.' Meaning that what is true for us in the morning of our life (youth) - our beliefs, desires, pathways etc, become in the afternoon of our lives a lie. Or at the very least - an ill fit. The afternoon of life can come to some people in early childhood - as whatever circumstances they find themselves in beats the last remaining idylls of childhood from their psyche. It can be through loss or failure or illness or pain and fear. For others the afternoon of life hits somewhere between early 30's and late 40's, when suddenly they question everything for which they once stood and to which they once held dear. For me, this questioning of everything has been going on, at least consciously, for the last year or two. I have not come to any firm conclusions and I do not think that this is the point of the experience anyway. I think that it is more a slow taking stock of one's life and a realisation that some things to which I have held on should be let go of.

In matters spiritual, I am a creature of habit. Or should that be, a creature of obsession. I longed to fulfil this ideal I have always held of myself as some mysterious priestess of all things spiritual. I imagined myself to be something akin Misty from that wonderful comic into which I disappeared as a sometimes unhappy and always mystically curious tween. Or as a modern day Morgan Le Fey (and who doesn't secretly want this sometimes) from Marion Zimmer Bradley's 'Mists of Avalon' - spending my life in service to the Goddess, sequestered away from the world and all its woes until such time as the Goddess had need of me. I know. I'm a horrible romantic. Or. Something.



This is why as a young woman witchcraft felt like a homecoming to me. I don't doubt that I have been here before, occupying this same familiar spiritual space and now, in the midst of spiritual change, I find myself clinging to this way of life, this pattern of spiritual practices despite my soul stretching itself out of its now restrictive form. It's not that I think that I will ever stop being a bit of a pagan at heart (or should that be hope?). It's not even that I think that this spiritual path is inferior in any way to any other. I love this path for its humour, for its cheekiness and for its grounded philosphy of nurturing self and the earth and I will hold onto those things for life. I just know that I crave more simplicity now. A simpler way of connecting with the Divine. A more direct conduit than I have been afforded to date.

For the longest time I thought that I had to 'know' what incarnation my spirit wanted me to take next. I thought that I needed to label my spiritual path and my journey in order for it to be authentic. I have only recently come to realise that this is not true. In fact, by seeking to label and to box and to 'belong', I have been unable to move forward or to embrace the simplicity of spirit I long for. My need to control my environment, even my spiritual environment (maybe even especially this) has been standing in the way of me embracing any change. The reason this comes back to me now (though thankfully with a little more clarity) is because of Jungs ideas of the 'afternoon of life' and how by not embracing it we stop growing and evolving and moving forward. I am very definitely in the afternoon of my life. I have been for a couple of years at least but I just didn't know it. I have mourned my loss of youth and beauty even as I have railed against the need to do just that. I have owned my youth envy every time I see a beautiful young thing float past on a cloud of sweet perfume and even sweeter promise. I have accepted that I am no longer the bright young thing that I once was (though I reserve the right to have a minor tanty about it when it occurs to me) and I'm learning to be ok with that. It's not that I have hit middle age - at least not yet. The afternoon of our lives is not synonymous with becoming middle aged, (though for those of us nearing 40, this may well be middle age supposing we live to be 80), it's more that it's a slow dawning consciousness that our lives and our dreams and our ideals have changed and with that change has to come acceptance and then right action. I do not currently know what my 'right action' might be but I am allowing a gap to open up in my psyche (Look out! Bats!). This is a supremely uncomfortable place for me to be in right now. I do not like not knowing. Especially when it comes to Spirit because I have defined myself for so long as belonging to that group of people called 'witch' or at the very least 'pagan'. However, I think that without being prepared to sit in this space and wait for whatever happens next, I risk becoming a spiritually inauthentic being. By that I mean that I will forever be stuck in the same groove without it being either spiritually nourishing and without evolving as a person. This I do not want.

So, as I accept that the afternoon of my life is upon me and that I cannot hope to know 'what next?', I find myself curiously detached and strangely opened, like a ripe fruit, waiting for the seeds to spill out of my pomegranate self and fertilise new ground. I almost like it. Almost. I am open, calling in a new song and hoping that when it comes I can sing it and sing it well.

Talking of singing (nice segueway) - I have recently discovered this amazing site (which will seriously expand your bandwidth!) and through it discovered some truly amazing artists. The site is Last.FM, its free and it's a way to discover more music than you could have thought possible. I am already addicted. Through last.fm I have discovered the genius of William Fitzsimmons (beautiful, beautiful music) and the lovely Vienna Teng. The idea is that you type in an artists whose music you love and it will then produce a list of people who produce a similar type of music or music with a similar 'feel'. You can then create your own 'radio' station of the type of music you like whilst discovering new artists all the time. You can even tune in to William Fitzsimmons Radio where every tenth track is one of his but the other tracks are by other artists you might enjoy. It's pure genius. I already have a list of artists (mainly female and folksy) that I want to hear more of. Check it out - it's way more fun than Facebook which, frankly, I'm over.

So - as I slip off, or possibly swim off, in a pool of my own perspiration (Hate this weather. Hate it. Peh!) to more article writing and some random pootling about, I leave you with a question. What was true for you in the morning of your life that is no longer so? What things have you let go of?

*Wonderful b&w image courtesy of The Sartorialist.

My Music, My Life

I will not die an unlived life.

"I will not die an unlived life.

I will not live in fear

of falling or catching fire.

I choose to inhabit my days,

to allow my living to open me,

to make me less afraid,

more accessible;

to loosen my heart

until it becomes a wing,

a torch, a promise.

I choose to risk my significance,

to live so that which came to me as seed

goes to the next as blossom,

and that which came to me as blossom,

goes on as fruit."

-Dawna Markova

As I trotted off to the post office this morning, I happened to be listening to the radio. AM radio no less. I heard an interview with Dawna Markova, an author I had never heard of. I was moved by her beautiful stories of grace. How she was taught that if she held the moments most precious to her, to her heart, she could take those moments alone with her when she died. I was touched by her voice, by her wisdom and by her gentleness. Despite the awful interference caused by being surrounded by trees, (and the thoroughly awful radio interviewer), I was able to catch most of what she said and when I got home I tried to find a poem she had read (not written by her) on the internet. Unfortunately, that particular poem evaded me but I found the one above from her book, I Will Not Die An Unlived Life.

I always try to be open to Spirit and those little nudgings that we often feel but seldom take real notice of. I felt that this 'happened upon' interview with such a gracious and gentle author was a little message to me. Especially as I have a real thing about dying with my music still in me. It also reminded me of a conversation Doc and I had about fear. We talked about how our lives had been run by fear in one form or another. Doc said she thought that I seemed, if not fearless, then certainly less fearful than she felt at times. I replied that I thought it was just sheer bloody mindedness on my part. I simply refuse to be beaten by those things which frighten me. It's not that I don't feel the fear. I really do. It's just that I'm so stubborn that I can't bear to think that it can best me. So I tend to just jump right in and do it anyway (a la Susan Jeffries book). In fact, the only time in my whole adult life when I have been entirely fearless, in the truest sense of the word, is when I had lost everything and therefore truly had nothing left to lose. One can always be fearless when one has nothing to important to lose. I remember feeling an almost heady sense of freedom. As if I could literally make ANY decision I wanted to and the outcome would not really matter a jot. My heart had been crushed by sadness and grief and really I could not think much beyond the present day and the the present moment. It was a wonderful and strange and painful time but that was my one and only experience of being completely fear-free in life. It was probably the only time in my life that I was more than fleetingly aware of the present moment. This interview reminded me that our most important gift to ourselves is the grace to really live. To really, truly, bloodily, painfully, joyfully, strangely, audaciously, giftedly, sadly, weepily, trustingly live. It's not that life will be without sadness or pain - we all know that isn't true. It's more that the very act of not allowing that to immobilise us, not allowing it to shadow the grace and light and joy available to us, is the very gift in itself. I do not want to die with my music still in me. Even though I don't yet know what my true music is. We all have inklings, or feelings or simply curiosity about what our gifts might be but the test is then not to let our fear of failure (or of success) or of ridicule or whatever your particular demon is, prevent us from giving it our best shot. Maybe our music is simply our ability to live our own lives in our own way. Our very life itself is our symphony - the way that we, as individuals, live it, in all its guts and glory.

Once upon a time I dreamt of being an actress. I trained at the age of 30 despite being self-conscious and embarrassed about my age. I did what I set out to do regardless of what fear whispered into my ear about being too old, too fat, unattractive, talentless, stupid... I learned so much about myself. It was a painful and difficult and challenging year for sure - especially as it came on the back of the break-up of my long-term relationship - but what a year it was. I cannot look back on that year with anything other than pride at how far I came and how much I learned, despite the pain and the hurt and the unutterable loneliness. That sticks with me now when I feel frightened or when I feel that I cannot stand up to the next challenge because I am simply too tired, or too sick of fighting and of the seeming endlessness of the struggles. I have begun the slow process of learning to trust myself. Always trying to find acceptance of what and where I am. Always trying to give myself, in the words of a beautiful Ben Harper song, 'Another day. Another chance to get it right.' I've been listening to that song a lot recently.

Anyway, whatever my feelings are about my life right now and what is or is not possible, I reserve the right to one day go back to that dream and re-explore it. Not with any grand designs of being the next Cate Blanchett (though part of me swears that if I can't be that calibre of actress then why bother) but with just a simple directive to learn and enjoy the process, no matter how matronly the body or how addled the mind.

Our dreams are just that - ours - no matter how many other people share the same or similar dreams, no one person could carry them out the way that we can. That is our gift to ourselves and to the world. So - hearing Dawna this morning was a timely reminder that its never too late, you are never too old, too tired, too much in debt, to hang on to those dreams you once cherished and nurtured. It's never too late to start that long slow walk towards their accomplishment because even if it takes the next 40 years of your life, when you get there you will have achieved more than you could have ever dreamt of and no doubt enjoyed the most extraordinary journey to boot. At the very least, you will not die with your music still in you. That is more than most people will do.

And yes. I still dance when no-one is watching.

Now go and listen to this song.

My Secret Gypsy Heart

Well, what a wonderful couple of days I have had.

The wild, winsome and wicked DocWitchy swooped in to my Caravan of Love, broomstick all dry and dusty, for a cuppa that turned into lunch at the ever delightful Kallista Tea Rooms, that turned into a wonderful curry dinner (hastily foraged for and prepared by her Witchypoo self - I contributed the witches brew and the poppadums), which turned into a very long evening of chitchat, spell swapping, story telling and ruby wine drinking, out on't patio until 2am. We lounged on our loungers hidden in a cocoon of mossie repelling black, fit for the skirts of the Goddess herself, lit up our bedouin lanterns and basked in the utter peace and stillness, sharing our space with growling possums and hooting owls. It was Divine.

The utter decadence of sitting out in the midnight air with a good friend, sharing a bottle of wine (or two) and talking into the wee small hours is just such a rare experience and therefore all the more cherished. It marked, for me at least, a shift in our relationship and a sweet deepening of our friendship. A friendship which has been growing all the more precious to me as each year passes. Doc is a smart, funny and generous woman with the lusty wild heart of a fellow Gypsy. All the women in my life seem to have a touch of this art and whimsy and I do love it so. These amazing fellow gypsy hearted women feed something deep inside of me that would wither and die without their love, support and friendship. I am truly blessed. Blessed to dream wild gypsy dreams and share our stories in trust and love. One of the best things in life indeed and something that money very definitely cannot buy.

*

The whole experience of the last two days has really reminded me of how much I love this bohemian lifestyle. The colour, the art, the music, the dancing, laughing and talking that seem to be such a rich and inviting part of this world I have awoken to once more. Truly good friendships do bring out the best in us. They invite us to play, to rest, to take stock and to simply pause in the stillness and quietly be. They light the little flames of our hearts desires and they inspire us to keep them alive, even as the world sometimes delights in trying to stamp them out. Doc - you are a candle in the night and I thank you for your generosity of spirit. May this year bring you so much more peace and joy, my love. Thank you for bringing a secret smile to my face and for sharing so much of yourself with me and mine.

This is what it felt like in spirit last night - if not entirely in form!



In my secret heart I have this romantic notion love that I would love that wild travelling lifestyle. I am seduced by the thought of sleeping beneath the stars, singing and dancing around the fire under a sky of blackberry blue, sneaking off into the emerald forests to find a soft patch of moss to lie on and sleep or make love under the watchful eyes of the Horned One himself. (Of course there is the lack of electricity and hot showers to contend with, not to mention the complete lack of fully functioning toilets but that never features heavily in my gypsy dreaming!). I think it all just appeals to the rampant pagan in me. I am of course terribly addicted to my pooter and my books and my DVD collection (especially as I have been surviving in true bohemian style without either broadband or terrestrial television. Perhaps I should make a bid for extra-terrestrial?), so I shall be content to simply wishfully think and make tents in my backyard out of acres of sparkly material, fairy-lights, lanterns and indian cushions.

*photos from the wonderful A Fanciful Twist blog.

So, if all of my fanciful musings have gotten you in the mood for a little gypsy dancing of your own, check out this little snippet. I have got to get this film.

So here I am. Tired (with a somewhat forceful and overly excitable toddler being bathed by lovely hubble) but feeling a little more 'me' than I have for a while. Plus, I got to stay up until 2am on a school night! Whoohoo!

I shall go gather my bangles and shawls around me, prance barefoot off to my beddybye and read my own fortune. I suspect it will say something like, 'Be prepared for a life full of good friendships, much laughter, lots of love and many, many happy surprises.' Now that's something to truly look forward to.

May your caravan take you places that awaken your heart and feed your soul.

*'Night Sky' photo by eileenteoshuqing.blogspot.com

Bit 'O' Fluff

Just took this funny personality test to discover what animal I am. It was posted on Mon's other site.

Apparently,
"I'm a Tiger, I'm a Tiger
I'm a Tiger, I'm a Tiger"

Apologies for all those who have never heard the above song. I am probably showing my considerable age.

Tiger Description
Tigers are handsome (I prefer to think of myself as sometimes pretty or, in my more confident moments, alluring but I'll settle for handsome when I can get it) and powerful people with an innate self-confidence and elegance. There's a sense of immediacy and an aura of electricity that surrounds it, and when it walks into a room, something always seems about to happen. Consider the classic tiger personality of F. Lee Bailey. He expresses himself with the confidence of one who expects his orders to be unquestionably followed, and his autocratic style demands respect and commands fear. For once a tiger has found its groove, it focuses on its goal with a brightly burning intensity. Male tigers, when out of their element, are sometimes mistaken for beefcake. But when you see them in their offices wearing their power suits, you realize that you're dealing with incisive, authoritarian individuals.

As a nocturnal hunter the tiger is equipped with a great deal of street sense. Able to read people's motivations and assess situations quickly, it is blunt and to the point, commanding attention with just a whisper or a raising of its eyebrow. It demands respect and commands fear. Unlike their cat relatives, tigers enjoy sports of all kinds, with a particular affinity for water sports. They are often seen in the company of river dolphins and sea lions on a casual and socially limited basis.

With a need to dominate their partners, their passionate advances can often be too intense for those fainthearted partners, so they must choose their lovers wisely. Because of their propensity for solitude, they avoid long-lasting relationships and place little value on fidelity -- proving to be unsettled and promiscuous.

Marry it? Yes. Tame it? Never! It's hard to put one's finger on why the tiger struggles to settle down, but one theory has it that the tiger views marriage as a threat to its independence. But their emotional detachment should not be confused with a desire to avoid intimacy; for intimacy is the tiger's greatest sensual tool. By offering its lover its deeply held secrets, it adds another dimension of eroticism to its lovemaking.

However, those tigers that have been married for a while will tell you that matrimony can be quite agreeable. Perhaps then, it's their impossible search for the perfect partner that keeps them on the prowl, although more than likely, we'll never understand the dark forces that frame its fearful symmetry.

Fearful symmetry? Not sure about that one. I am in the company of Jack Nicholson though, so it can't be all bad.

There are so many good blogs out there and I recently discovered this one. Great for the craftsters out there.

Also found this site which is good for organisation. As someone who forgets, well, everything actually, I'm hoping that this will help me remember.

We shall see.

Also - random but true.

I have a soft spot for these wee fella's.

Check out ma petite Ryan (and ignore jailbait photos, this is one cookie that gets better as he gets older), the boy can sing!

Also love a very different Ryan - Behold the masculine splendour of Monseiur Reynolds of Blade Trinity fame.

I admit, there are things I would like to do to this man that would get me arrested in at least 27 countries.
Oh, swoony, swoon swoon...

And yes, I do want to be Jessica Biels.


Grrrrrr.

In which I moan about my idyllic life and break a toe

I am feeling deeply uninspired. I have life envy. I'm only half serious but I do feel as if I'm missing something important. Oh I have my moments but there is this heavy, useless feeling that sits in my ever more resplendent tummy and makes me feel tired and frustrated at the same time. Have you ever tried being enervated and tired at the same time? It's irritating. And tiring.

Sigh.

Anyway, I have just been feeling a bit flat, as happens to most of us from time to time. The weight of mothering has been a bit heavy since I returned refreshed from our holiday in the (nearly) sunshine and I had a truly spectacularly awful meltdown at Beanie on Tuesday. I phoned the hubble in tears and tried to convince him that he should have me quietly taken away. Better that than add any more scars to our beautiful daughter's soul courtesy of her crazy fekkin mamma. Beanie and I went to bad not long afterwards and slept for two and a half hours. I felt better afterwards. Sleep has always been the great escape from my uncomfortable emotions though I'm not entirely sure if that's a good thing or a very strong case of avoidance. Ah well.

I should just stop comparing myself to other people. I know I should. It's just that they seem to be so living so much more passionately than I am. And they sure as hell create so much more effortlessly than I can. People seem to find hours in the day to do all sorts of incredible stuff. BlueBirdBaby finds time to work, furnish a new house, spend lots of quality time with her adorable little girl, sew, play piano, learn guitar, cook AND take lots of amazing photographs. HOW? I think I'm just lazy. I have lots of things I'd like to do but I get distracted easily. Ooh, something shiny...vroom..gone.

I am living in my very own hoosie finally and it's wonderful. Yet, I haven't had that excited, champagne opening, celebratory "whoopee" feeling at all. Obviously, it was a teensy bit influenced by the 'hood' up the hill but not all of it comes from that. Has anyone else experienced this? You want something, you work at it, you wait and then suddenly you have it and.... nothing. Not a single shiny spark of excitement can be coaxed. I think my happiness button is broken along with my toe. (Swooped foot forward to be enveloped in lovely Ugg boot, missed slipper and slammed my 'ring' toe on my right foot into the skirting board with a very 'crack!' Now I have 'The Black Toe'). Anyway, to get back to my moan. So, here I am, surrounded by trees, trees and more trees and believe it or not despite the odd breaking of the sound barrier coming from elsewhere, there is a lot of peace to be had and yet I'm still feeling unsettled. It's like I haven't dropped into place yet. I am very concerned that I am simply one of those people who is NEVER satisfied with life no matter what happens. I mean, get a grip already. God, I'd so hate for that to be true of me. I have many faults but I don't want to own that one. No sirree.

I think its really just the accumulation of a lot of things happening all at once. Moving house, Beanie getting more and more demanding and, well, a bit naughty to be honest, (planning the next small fry whilst the current small fry is being exasperating is a little scary thank you very much), realising how much renovation our house requires to make it truly our own, the business closing in Brisbane and my unsurety that I actually want to continue it at all...yadda yadda yadda. It's all a bit much and I know I need to take it all one little chunk at a time but it's easier said than done. Especially for a horribly driven (lazy) perfectionist like me. So here I am - marvelling at all the accomplishments of others whilst feeling like a great fat prize Turkey on Thanksgiving.

Oh shut up, you're being overly dramatic. Again.

I went for a reading to Oracle, this charming little witchy-poo shop in Sassafrass yesterday. Just sort of blustered in and decided on it in the space of a heartbeat. It was interesting. The lovely french proprietoress did rather ram the point home once she had found it (which took a while) and I did get rather itchy feet and want to go home near the end, but then something extraordinary happened. She came out after our reading had finished and handed me a beautiful quartz crystal sphere (about the size of a small orange) and said that she wanted me to have it. She had never in her life done anything like that before but she said that she wanted to loan it to me (even if I needed it for 20 years!)to remind me of what the reading said. I was rather gobsmacked to say the least. So now i have this dazzling crystal sitting on my bureau upstairs in my boudoir and I'm still slightly bemused about everything. I did level the playing field slightly by spending over $100 in their shop not long afterwards. Oh, who am I kidding. I'd have spent that ball or not bloody ball. I just cannot resist that store. After my reading and whilst still 'embracing' the whole message of the thing, I did say out loud (but not in a 'mad woman talking to herself! Quick Martha, grab the children and RUN!' type of way), 'OK precious boy, come to me. I'm ready if you are,' or words to that effect. And I felt that familiar shiver come over me that tends to portend something life changing. Like already being up the duff or something. I had it the day I met the hubble. Oh. Shit.

On another note entirely - I pulled out all the cauli's and a whole heap of other unidentified plants from the garden yesterday. Now there are two quite bare looking terraces that need turning over and fertilising. Then I come to the heady part of choosing and planting our new crop. The gluttonous part of me is practically giddy about the idea of it but the reality of it will be far less mesmerising I'm guessing. All dirt, weeding and trying not to overwater it or whatever. I guess there's no way to go but up when you are starting at the very bottom and are as complete a novice as I am about gardening. I think I'll look into planting by moon also as it seems to have such interesting results for other gardeners. Plus, anything by moon is so delicious.

So yes. I've had a little ramble. I've had a little moan and I know I should just pull my socks up and get ON with it but I am so reluctant, so resistant at the moment. Ah well, the winds of change will come whether I am ready or not. The rather jaunty hat on the sun of the horizon is that we did a meet and greet of most of the neighbours on Saturday. I baked up a load of choccie cookies and we did the rounds. the people over at the 'hood' were out (or hiding their meth lab/dope plants and therefore to busy to come to the door), we met two terribly uninspiring neighbours either side of them and then shambled down the road to the next lot feeling disappointed and rather shit about it all. The next two houses we knocked at were out. Getting better and better. THEN we discover Tim - the lovely greek gardener/amazing painter/ex-primary school teacher - who invited us in for a cuppa, showed us all his paintings (he's exhibited in Rome and Paris and London) and called the Kookaburra's ('ella ella' it means 'come' in Greek) and got them to feed from his hands. I'm not even a little bit kidding. Beanie was in raptures. His garden was like something from an English stately home with statues of Pan and little altars to the Goddess - it was what heaven looks like I'm sure. He then decided to take us over to meet his best friends, Paul and Gail. We pootled through their garden, had a glass of Pinot and chatted like we'd known each other for years. Paul is an ex soapie-actor, plays concert level piano and, of course, paints and gardens like Tim. His wife is an ex-teacher and also gardens and does assorted artsy stuff. They were so laid back that they didn't even mind when Beanie opened a packet of coriander seeds (home harvested) all over their lovely leather sofa's. I cannot tell you what a breath of fresh air those people have been to me and to the Hubble. Paul and Gail have been here for over 30 years and are probably only now nearing their 60's. They look so damn vital it's hard to tell! Tim has the most amazingly youthful eyes I've ever seen. He looks so mischevious and his wife is adorable too. So we floated home on a warm Pinot cloud, hugging these new 'families' to ourselves like a warm fluffy blanket and I felt, for the first time, that maybe we hadn't made a mistake in buying here. That was a precious gift let me tell you when we can't get broadband, have terrible mobile reception, can't get papers (or parcels) delivered and have to drag our bins uphill for about 15 minutes to put them out for the trucks! I am also intensely grateful that our next door neighbour is no longer seeing the 'very bad man' that sold drugs and caused 'domestics' loud enough to be heard by Paul and Gail who are quite a way away from our house. Apparently there was even a shot fired at some point. So let me say a profound 'THANK YOU' to the Gods that sorted that one out before we arrived.

Warning: Randomness alert.
Love this.

So - I'll hopalong to bed now. Calm my fractious child and try and find some secret space in my head that can draw me down into rest. For I have much to do and far to travel before my journey is done.

Happy Holidays, Sweet Dreams and Loose Resolutions

Beautiful Beanie and her one thousand kilowatt smile

Here I sit on borrowed wireless, drinking tea and eating Pfeffernusse like they've gone out of fashion. Which they quite possibly have - many things I like are un-fashionable – nonetheless these are just scrummily Dee-licious!
Strange name though - I always want to say 'bless you' after I say it.

Anyway, I digress before I've even really started. I'm just back from a lovely week-long holiday in Sorrento with the 'AH' Clan and am mid-pack for an overnight in Queenscliff for a wedding tomorrow, swiftly followed by another wedding the day after. We have a lot of friends. Or rather, my husband does. I have few but they art goodly ones.

The holiday was glorious though I did not brave the water with more than my lily white ankles. The whole family were there with us including my sister-in-law's soon to be family, the Lewis's. Anna's many (many) friends (think Jesus) popping in on route back to important jobs in France, Malaysia and the like, there could be up to 15 people in our house on some days. We even had lunch with the ex-Deputy Premier John Thwaites! I know. The lives of the rich and almost famous! It's not me that's connected though - the hubble's sister used to work on water policy under Thwaites (she’s an eco-warrior and one of the really good guys - sharp as a whip too). They keep in touch even though Anna is currently working in the good ole UK wot I used to call 'ome. Anyway, name dropping aside, it was a lovely holiday and very relaxing for me and the man. With so many extended family in one house and one adorably cute little girl to entertain and bewitch, we had many, many willing volunteers to Beanie-sit. We even got to enjoy my (birthday treat) spa visit to the Mornington Peninsula Hot Springs (thanks Tan and Kath!). We stayed there for FIVE hours bobbing up and down and meandering in and out of lovely hot, hot water of varying degrees. We even braved the cold plunge pool on a few occasions and it was AWESOME! By the time we got out I was incapable of much more than a happy grin and the occasional 'dunno'. It's the most relaxed I've been in two years and I heartily recommend it.


I got to experience first hand the adage that 'it takes a village to raise a child' because to have so many willing hands and hearts available was truly a wonderful stress-free experience for me. My bean would start the day by rollin' into the communal kitchen with a 'Where is anybody?' and then find her way into her great grandmother's room (Norn - short for Norma)to have a chat about the bees in the lavender. She would then mosey into the kitchen to swipe a VitaBrit or two from the box or steal a digestive biscuit, before running up the hall shouting 'Nanna! Nanna!' until poor Nanna's tousled head appeared to greet her. I could just lie in bed and let it happen knowing that whoever greeted her first would spend time and energy in just loving her. That was an amazing and humbling experience for me. I knew she was loved but I don't think I ever realised quite how much and by quite how many. It was sheer delight to be a part of such a warm family gathering. We cooked and ate together on most nights, we co-ordinated our visits to the beach to take into account the oldies and the youngies and we swam and played and built sandcastles and dug holes and threw shells into the sea with gay abandon.

Nature's bounty

I am refreshed, brown as a nut (well if nuts were pink and freckly anyway) and more chilled than I ever expected to be. Chilled enough to wave hello and shout 'Happy New Year' to the 'hood' up the hill. That's progress, long may it last.
So, after my long sojourn I thought it might well be time for a catch up. I mean, there’s been the Solstice, Christmas and New Year to contend with. Surely that’s worth a few words.

The Solstice was greeted by 3 women, one belly cast and an awful lot of drumming. All drums and beaters made with our own fair hands - skin to skin. The Beanie was gifted with the most glorious solstice dress from DocWitch in lots of lovely greens. Just precious. Can't tell you how much I love her in those dresses - thanks my darling dark broomster.

Christmas was wonderful. We hosted the event this year (despite only being in the house for 2 weeks) and I got to cook my first ever Christmas turkey. This was no mean feat in an oven whose door didn’t shut properly. Apart from the extended cooking times, everything turned out peachy. We had handmade stuffing with walnuts and craisins (dried cranberries), lemon and rosemary potatoes, balsalmic glazed carrots and parsnips and giblet gravy (which is what I call gravy made with the ‘juices’ of the bird – shiver…). I also created a monstrous chocolate and hazelnut Pavlova with a delicious choc mocha cream filling. Hence I am now the size of a small continent. The table looked lovely, everyone devoured the food and complimented the chefs. We even got to play the Rat Pack singing Christmas songs and, of course, the classic South Park Christmas song ‘Just a Jew’ (playing merrily in the background. Ah love that little Kyle.
There was, of course, that slight slow drag of nostalgia that had me longing for the crisp cold whiteness of my childhood Christmases long gone. I never quite get into the full spirit in this country – something about the long hot days and warm nights. Here’s something I found that made it a little easier. It also appeals to my sense of romance. Pause for a sigh.

And so - here I am - relaxed, warmed through by the sun and ready for a new year of who knows what. 2008 was a pretty good year all up. We rode the ups and downs as best we could and we seemed to find more smiles than frowns. That's good enough for me. I don't really have many specific dreams for 2009 but I do know that I want it to contain more. More hours spent laughing with my friends, more time spent soaking in the stillness, more treading lightly on the Earth, more time being open hearted and in the moment and lots more pleasure taken in simple things.


Leaving behind only footprints

Oh, and God if you're listening, could you please start to make my bottom look like this?


My little Nudie Bum

Sweet Dreams and to all a Good Night...

One Sweet Blog Award

Thanks again to Moonroot for this cute little number.

I have to list seven things in a number of different categories.

7 things to do before I die

1. Walk the Inca Trail.
2. Write a really good book. One that makes you laugh and cry, smile and yearn.
3. Learn how to make stuff – clothes, toys, anything and everything.
4. Build a mud brick/earthbag/adobe/cob meditation hut.
5. Awaken my Heart.
6. Become a Tantra teacher.
7. Have another baby.

7 things I do now

1. Swear. A lot.
2. Sing all the time.
3. Write.
4. Worry.
5. Procrastinate wildly.
6. Run wonderful events for women. I love my work. www.thedivinefeminine.com.au.
7. Read whenever I can.

7 things I can't do

1. Play piano any more.
2. Anything mathematical.
3. Read instructions.
4. Sew.
5. Prevent my daughter from repeating the last things she hears about a million times.
6. Understand myself.
7. Enjoy sport.

7 things I find attractive in the opposite sex (in no particular order)

1. Beautiful eyes.
2. A great sense of Humour.
3. Creativity.
4. Openness.
5. Honesty.
6. Intelligence.
7. A sense of Adventure/Musical ability (what can I say – I have a soft spot for muso’s).

7 things I say most often

1. Oh, For F***’s Sake!
2. Awesome!
3. Alright. See you later.
4. I love you. (To my mum, my daughter, my hubble, my friends – everyone I love).
5. D'you know what I mean?
6. Christ on a bike!
7. That's hysterical!

7 celebs I most admire

1. Cate Blanchett
2. Kate Bush
3. Emma Thompson
4. Claire Bowditch
5. Dalai Lama
6. Wayne Dyer
7. Daniel Day Lewis

7 favourite foods

1. Fish and Chips
2. Fish Pie (home made)
3. Chocolate and all chocolate related products both known and unknown in this universe and all others
4. Lemon Cheesecake
5. Mashed potato (especially when it comes with Bangers and Red Onion Gravy from the Bangers and Mash Café in Notting Hill, London.
6. Warm Pecan Pie….mmmmm
7. My mum’s Macaroni Cheese

I’m going to follow Moonroots lead with nominations. I've already done a fair bit of nominating in the last post, so for this one I'm going to just say I nominate everyone on my ‘Eye & Heart Candy’ blog roll, and if you read this and would like to join in - well, consider yourself nominated too!

Tree of Happiness Award

I know. A lot of blogging in one day. Still, when the mood strikes (even when the connection is s.l.o.o.o.o.w)...

I find I have been tagged by the wonderful Moonroot, who has gifted me a lovely Tree of Happiness. Ta very much!

The rules of the award are:


• Link to the person who gave the award to you.
• Post the rules on your blog.
• List six things that make you happy.
• Tag six people at the end of your post and link to them.
• Let each person know they’ve been tagged and leave a comment on their blog
• Let the person who awarded you know when your entry is up.

I think this has come along at just the right moment and is some Good Medicine to get rid of the Bad Mojo surrounding me right now. So without further ado, these are ‘Fings Wot Make I Happy.’

1. Peace. Quiet. Serenity. Ok. I’ll stop now. I promise.
2. My creative, caring and very loving hubble and my curious, challenging, tiring, wonderful, dramatic and adorable daughter. Really. Even when I’m angry and crabby, they are both amazing gifts in my life and I do know how very lucky and blessed I am.
3. Having my writing published. Makes me feel like I do at least one thing well in my life. Writing helps me stay sane. Stories feed my heart and soul and Reading helps me grow up big and strong.
4. A long lie in with a good book.
5. Nature. How I love thee – from the ripe bosom of the fertile Mother to the cold, stone hard ground and chill winds of the Crone – I am thy humble servant and my soul is an ever evolving Ode to thy Beauty.
6. My friends. I am blessed to have many good friends both in this hemisphere and the other. They have provided much support, love and happiness and I am terribly grateful for the wisdom they share and the joy they bring.

My six nominations are:

1. DocWitchy-poo at Dark Side of the Broom. Love her. Love her blog.
2. Griffin from Snapper and The Griffin – lovely stories from a lovely man.
3. Sew Mamma Sew (http://sewmamasew.com/blog2/) – a wonderful blog that keeps my creative yearnings alive.
4. One Red Robin (http://oneredrobin.com/) – such wonderful crafty stuff. I just love it.
5. Suse from Pea Soup (http://peasoupoftheday.blogspot.com/) – mothering, crafting and all things homely and special. Nurturing as a hot cup of tea and a biccie.
6. The Dance of Small Things (http://danceofsmallthings.blogspot.com/) – a blog that warms the cockles, fills the tummy and expands the heart.

Don't forget to share that happiness around.

How's The Serenity?

Well hello there Dark Mother. It's been, well, not long enough that's for damn sure.

I'll make this quick as I'm on the dreaded dial-up and it is so painfully slow that I may kill myself out of sheer frustration before this blog has been uploaded.

We are in our new home - Hurrah! We also have only one or two more boxes to unpack - double Hurrah! Our new neighbours enjoy playing loud Gangsta Rap - Boo! Hiss! Our other neighbours are clearly in a band and I have been serenaded with some seriously heavy drum beats and guitar solos. Surprisingly, this bothers me less than the horrendous 'duff duff duff' of the gangta rap. Being in a band suggests creativity and also, having dated three musicians in a row, I am aware that there is a finite amount of rehearsal one can do in a day. Thankfully.

I am someone who needs, nay, whose very life and wellbeing depends upon, certain levels of peace and quiet. I do not deal well with noise pollution of any kind. When you are merrily painting away with your IPod in your ears and you can STILL hear your neighbours music, then that becomes slightly worrying. I have to say in all honesty that moving in day was completely ruined for me by said musical accompaniment. Especially as on that particularly exhausting and difficult day it continued well past 10.30pm and it meant that I was trying to put my daughter to bed with that in the background like a bad smell. I do think it bothers her less than me thankfully but still. It does beg the question, why would you move to this beautiful area, surrounded by the verdant and abundant green of nature, with peace so possible, and then spend your daylight hours blasting yourself off the face of the earth with music. Any music. The fact that its gangsta rap and therefore horrible, negative and violent, is not so much beside the point as a whole different point all by itself. So - it was with a heavy and anxious heart that I began my stay here in this lovely new home that belongs to me.

I fretted and tossed and wore myself into a hyper-state of sadness and angryness all the while trying to think of ways to avoid, cure or simply deal with this unwanted aural attack. The Hubble very diplomatically suggested that we simply befriend the neighbours and see if we can cure the situation with sugar instead of vinegar. It may be that they don't realise that the sound carries from their house (at the top of the hill) to ours (at the bottom) or that sounds simply carries more here because of the nature of the valley and the trees and so on and so forth. It could be that they simply don't give a fuck. This is what I fear. That I have moved next door to people who have no regard for anyone else or their needs. On one level, I understand it. Really. I do. Why should we let anyone else dictate how we should live our lives? We shouldn't. I am not someone who enjoys confrontation. I'm not someone who wants to try and tell people how they should live. I'm simply someone who craves peace and hoped to move into this amazing area and soak in the beauty and majesty of nature, uninterrupted by such hideousness. Since then, I think I have been 'Woman on the Edge' - waiting for it to begin again, almost expecting it to happen every night. Thankfully it has not. It's been all quiet on the Western Front since Sunday - a fact for which I am extremely grateful. I know I should pull myself together and just deal with it less fretfully but I am not made that way and to do so will require an effort of will and an amount of psychological reprogramming that I am simply not capable of right now. I do intend to try and get myself on track, just as soon as I can get myself on track. I am exhausted and angry and irritable and my poor daughter has been harrassed by 'Mommie Dearest' all week - not a good start to our green idyll.

I can tell that this post is a little disjointed. It's totally how I feel. I also know that no-one can get me back into a peaceful frame of mind and heart but me. I also, also know that if one cannot seen the Divine in everything and everyone (everyone), then one cannot really see the Divine at all. I have the problem not them. I am the one who finds the situation difficult. Not them. I don't want to put them out of my heart simply because, at worst, they are selfish wankers. I think that the Universe is enjoying a great Cosmic Joke at my expense and it's up to me to find a way back to peace and equilibrium despite my current challenges. It's just funny (funny ha ha and funny strange) that in buying my first house, I have managed to buy into my worst nightmare. Well, actually, let's not get over dramatic - it's my semi-worst nightmare. I won't write my worst nightmare out. Don't want to focus my energy on that now do I!

I've been seeing a Homeopath and she reckons that when I am back in harmony, so will my environment settle. I'm hoping that this is true. I'm adrenally exhausted and my fight or flight stress levels are very high simply due to the fact that I can handle large amounts of stress without actually realising that I'm stressed. Early childhood and all that. So - she has got me on something or other to basically smooth down the ruffled Kitty fur and get me relaxed (or as relaxed as I get - think wooden board with a soft cover on) and then we'll start dealing with all of the other stuff. Deep joy.

Anyway - we are here. It's looking more like home. Much painting has been done (our bedrooms look awesome) and much more painting has to be done. The wood panelling has to go. I don't want to live in a sauna. We are also very definitely getting double glazing put in. Firstly to stop the noise and secondly to insulate and keep the house toasty. We are living in a house that was previously occupied by DIY bodgers and there is some seriously dodgy electrical oddments happening which means that when we turn on the dining room light all the upstairs lights go out. Yes, honestly. That made me laugh. That's a good sign.

Anyway - I am longing for the broadband connection to be re-established, so that I can once more live like a modern woman instead of a pioneer. I can then check in more frequently and read my favourite blogs in peace. Well, you know what I mean.

Until then I wait. It's what I do.

Home Sweet Home She Sang

Home Sweet Home
Well, it's been full steam ahead over here at Chez AH today. There's been packing, worrying about not packing fast enough and, dropping off many boxes of stuff at the new place. Yes, at long last, I now hold in my sweaty little hand the key to our very own hoosie. Life is good.

The shine was taken off the apple somewhat by the rather less than pristine state the house was left in by the previous owners. I was annoyed, nay very pissed, for at least two days and we were left with a lot of work to do to simply clean the place to a decent standard. And all of this before we could even start to move our stuff in. We decided in the end that we should try and paint the place before moving in furniture as it's so much easier to paint unimpeded by 'stuff'. So a lovely weekend of sugar soaping walls was enjoyed by all. We then painted most of Lily's room a lovely soft heathery dusky pink. We intended for there to be green feature wall but upon completion of said feature wall, we were both rapidly transported back to the late 80's, big perms, 'Back to the Future' and all. We speedily painted over it in white and now Mummy is going to add a little of the pink to a lot of the white and have a slightly lighter pink feature wall instead.

Tiny Rant. I complained to the estate agent about the state the place was left in (dirty unhoovered floors, dirty walls and woodwork, scuzzy cupboards etc) and was told that the previous owners had 'cleaned it to the best of their ability' and that they were 'honestly nice people.' Harrumph. I would never (ever) leave a place in that kind of shitty state. We would lose our bond if this place looked like our new house did. So, I was a bit cranky for a few days and I think it upset the hubble a bit. He wanted it to be all grinning and cheer because we do now own our own house. I am a glass half empty kind of girl. Sorry. I need to be allowed to experience my disappointment (and my fear of so huge a commitment) before I can enjoy the fruits of this intense labour of love we are undertaking. I AM honestly joyful that we now own our very own piece of Real Estate. I love our garden. I love that I can paint the place whatever colour I damn well please. I love that I am able to relax (in my mind at least) knowing that no-one can sell it out from under us because it's OURS. And I especially love sitting on the terrace and seeing nothing but green frondyness spreading out before me like an emerald ocean. It's pretty glorious. On the downside, the house is a little darker than I would like. It doesn't seem to get a huge amount of sunshine after the early mornings. Comes from being at the bottom of a very steep hill I guess. I'm thinking of cutting some more skylights into the kitchen and possibly adding in a window to both top bedrooms. Something small and slim like a bathroom window into the exterior walls perhaps. Of course, this will all come 'in time' but the planning is good. I'm also starting to put out little tendrils towards plasterers and am researching Eco Plaster of all things. Well, we are trying to be 'greener' and have gone with some pretty good green paint for the house. Anyway - once the annoyance of dirty house had passed, I was all systems go and got stuck into sugar soaping and painting with great gusto. So all was well in the end.

We have SO much stuff to pack up here it's not funny. I keep looking around me and whispering quiet prayers for a speedy, nay miraculous, pack-up in the next few days. The removalists are coming on Saturday at 8am (Ye Gods - don't these burly men sleep?) and we have to be R.E.A.D.Y. I made some small inroads into it today interspersed with ignoring Lily a lot in order to do a lot of Change of Address notifications with banks etc. That was long and very tedious but necessary.

Momentary aside. I have just looked out of the window to see the most glorious crescent moon hanging like a tiny silver charm in the blackness. Above it shines a single, very bright star. I used to have (and may still have somewhere) this tiny silver crescent moon necklace. I wore it almost all the time back when I was around 24. Tonight that moon looks like that necklace. Perhaps I should see if I can fossick it out of my jewellery box. Perhaps a girl needs a little lunar charm at times like these. I shall miss these views from on high when I am deep in the valley below. Yes I shall.


And now she is gone. Obscured by cloud once more. Think I'll play a little celtic music to soothe my tired soul. Maybe a little Mary Fahl - jeez but she's a pretty little thing. And you gotta love that dress!

I feel like I have so much to say and now that I am here I can't remember any of it. I guess there is just so much going on and my brain is full of all the things I am desperate not to forget. Heh heh.


by bcarlson15210

I've been a bit of an angry bunny for a few weeks. I get like this sometimes though I'm not entirely sure why. Every damn thing pisses me off so intensely - it's like I've lost a layer of skin or something and there is no buffer between me and the chafing. Some of it deserves my anger, some of it does not. Poor Beanie has had crotchety witch mamma for a while and although she's been enjoying pushing the boundaries quite a bit, (well, a lot actually), does not deserve my evil moods. So on top of the anger has been a fair bit of guilt and sadness too. All of this at a time when I am also happy to be moving into my own home and harvesting the bounty of broccoli, broad beans and beets that await me in my new garden. For that I can almost forgive the mess the previous owners left behind. I know. I know. Get over it puss!

Anyway - I shall not dwell - I shall steadfastly move on to 'Things That Save Me From Myself'. Nothing in this world makes me feel quite so heart achingly happy as my little girl, particularly when she suddenly decides to belt out impromptu songs such as 'I have peace like a river in my Soul' or, as Lily sings it, 'Peas in the river and a sword.' Her rendition of Bob Marley's 'Three Little Birds' is just so sublime I can't tell you. She is so wonderful and so funny and so wildly, passionately unselfconscious and I want so much to protect that quality in her, knowing, as I do (and despite my seeming confidence) what it is to be self conscious. Now and then I ask her to 'sing to mummy' and without so much as a breath, she launches into a song about whatever she has in her head at that time. This afternoon, as we prepared for a nap, she sang about me telling her not to turn the lamp on and off and encompassed 'the whole world' and threw in things like some shoes, a little girl and a toad. Oh, for that imagination. Mind you, it comes with a complete set of 'I like to cover my whole face (including my ears) with vegetable soup' extras. Tuck in and enjoy my friend.

Anyway - its late, my back is knackered and so am I. Time for a good (ghastly, ghoulish) book and a warm duvet. We are about to go onto dial up speed for the next week or so until our swanky new wireless broadband is up and running, so it might be a while. Still, next time you might get photo's of the new hoose and me hauling large boxes up too many stairs.

Bon Nuit.