I've never lived in a north facing home before and I do now realise absolutely why not. It depresses me to have no rays of sunlight in my home, though of course I have sunshine in my heart. How could I not, with such a wonderful housemate? :-)
However I do need real sunshine too. I have, as the air has been warming, been known to lie on the floor of the living room with the front door open and my head on the threshold, getting rays of afternoon sun on my face, for the half hour it comes through that portal. I've now discovered another source! If I sit in the far right of the sofa, almost with my nose up against the wall, the setting sun shines his pink and slightly feeble rays on my face. You have no idea what joy this brings to me for these 20 minutes! :-)
the random ponderings of an ordinary person
Tuesday 26 April 2011
A few more freckles on my nose
After a lovely afternoon and morning with my parents and sister, climbing Moel Famau and exploring the backstreets of Chester, we headed to the Peak District with the sun shining and the roof down. Even the journey is a holiday, when you're in a Saab 900 Turbo with the roof down - such a beautiful car!
Our first night we cooked - BBQ steak (which took around half an hour to cook rare because our BBQ turned out to be damp) with quick cook noodles, mange tout, green beans, broccoli and sweetcorn. Deeelicious. The greatest quantity of veggies that he's even eaten while camping apparently - I told him he'd obviously never been camping with my brother and his girlfriend, both veggies themselves, and should try that out sometime for veggie versus pot noodle.
Incidentally, did everyone know that 'vegetarian' doesn't come from 'vegetable', but from 'vegetus', Latin for lively or vigorous. According to the Vegetarian Society, though the Oxford English Dictionary apparently disputes this. As reported by Wikipedia. And they used to be called Pythagoreans. I guess Pythagoras was a veggie-eating camper too.
Anyway, minor digression, we were woken up by mooing early on the first morning. Gorgeous cows in the field next door, which delightfully licked snot out of their own noses with their mega long weird tongues, followed up by enormous poos.
We walked two hikes that day, both 'minimum three hours' though we took a long detour on the first one (misinterpretation of the word 'wide'), which required us to follow paths that only sheep should take. Indeed I did take the lead from a kind ram who peered into the mini canyon above me, assuming that if he could get up there, then so could I - and I did just about manage, though I later rejected this assumption when I saw a pair of lambs frollicking happily on a virtually vertical hillside. The scenery was breathtaking, the space and clarity heavenly and peaceful. While it was chilly at night, the day times were warm and spring-like.
The second night we ate out, too tired to cook, besides which it being 8pm on Easter Sunday, little was open. He chose chicken curry and I went for gammon and pineapple, with mash and veggies - tasting as good as my Mama's Easter fare of boiled ham! Very happy-making! :-) I got some odd looks when I asked for mint sauce, but it makes over-boiled pub veggies taste delicious, especially cauliflower.
That night was very chilly, so he built us a fire in our fire basket and we sat warming our cockles until it died down, massaging our tired aching feet and staring up at the stars from time to time. Why, as humans, we ever gravitate to cities, I struggle to understand when I am in a place of such natural beauty and peace, yet I inevitably, eventually, find myself drawn to the greater levels of unexpectedness and randomness that cities hold. Everything in moderation, I guess.
Back home, unpacked, clean house again, the only evidence of being away my state of mind and a few more freckles on my nose.
Our first night we cooked - BBQ steak (which took around half an hour to cook rare because our BBQ turned out to be damp) with quick cook noodles, mange tout, green beans, broccoli and sweetcorn. Deeelicious. The greatest quantity of veggies that he's even eaten while camping apparently - I told him he'd obviously never been camping with my brother and his girlfriend, both veggies themselves, and should try that out sometime for veggie versus pot noodle.
Incidentally, did everyone know that 'vegetarian' doesn't come from 'vegetable', but from 'vegetus', Latin for lively or vigorous. According to the Vegetarian Society, though the Oxford English Dictionary apparently disputes this. As reported by Wikipedia. And they used to be called Pythagoreans. I guess Pythagoras was a veggie-eating camper too.
Anyway, minor digression, we were woken up by mooing early on the first morning. Gorgeous cows in the field next door, which delightfully licked snot out of their own noses with their mega long weird tongues, followed up by enormous poos.
We walked two hikes that day, both 'minimum three hours' though we took a long detour on the first one (misinterpretation of the word 'wide'), which required us to follow paths that only sheep should take. Indeed I did take the lead from a kind ram who peered into the mini canyon above me, assuming that if he could get up there, then so could I - and I did just about manage, though I later rejected this assumption when I saw a pair of lambs frollicking happily on a virtually vertical hillside. The scenery was breathtaking, the space and clarity heavenly and peaceful. While it was chilly at night, the day times were warm and spring-like.
The second night we ate out, too tired to cook, besides which it being 8pm on Easter Sunday, little was open. He chose chicken curry and I went for gammon and pineapple, with mash and veggies - tasting as good as my Mama's Easter fare of boiled ham! Very happy-making! :-) I got some odd looks when I asked for mint sauce, but it makes over-boiled pub veggies taste delicious, especially cauliflower.
That night was very chilly, so he built us a fire in our fire basket and we sat warming our cockles until it died down, massaging our tired aching feet and staring up at the stars from time to time. Why, as humans, we ever gravitate to cities, I struggle to understand when I am in a place of such natural beauty and peace, yet I inevitably, eventually, find myself drawn to the greater levels of unexpectedness and randomness that cities hold. Everything in moderation, I guess.
Back home, unpacked, clean house again, the only evidence of being away my state of mind and a few more freckles on my nose.
Wednesday 13 April 2011
The gift of a black cat
An enormous black furry fat cat pranced across the road in front of me as I cycled home from my counselling placement. I don't care what other people think; for me, a black cat = good luck. I shall, therefore, be expecting some good news in the next few weeks.
Feeling positive and on the up, despite the damp weather and the cold air. Sunshine, I know you're just hiding for a bit, you want a bit of solitude, and soon you'll be coming out to play again. When you do, I'll be ready and waiting. :-)
Feeling positive and on the up, despite the damp weather and the cold air. Sunshine, I know you're just hiding for a bit, you want a bit of solitude, and soon you'll be coming out to play again. When you do, I'll be ready and waiting. :-)
Tuesday 12 April 2011
Easter!
Three weeks away from college and I am joyous! It's been a truly hard few weeks, lots of difficult personal work, conflicts and challenges, and study has focused on psychosis, self-harm, suicide and trauma - all the cheery topics for the end of term. Thankfully the last two weeks have mainly been conducted on beanbags, which was a real delight for me.
Of course I have study to do over the next few weeks, but I feel like I have my freedom back and the sun is shining. What could make me happier?
Of course I have study to do over the next few weeks, but I feel like I have my freedom back and the sun is shining. What could make me happier?
Sunday 3 April 2011
Culinary goddess
That's me!
I decided to take a day off to do nothing work-related, so (in among a bit of trashy TV, college work, doing some washing and cleaning the house) I decided to experiment in the kitchen.
Breakfast was toasted rye bread with fried eggs and grilled baby tomatoes.
Number two, coming in as a late lunch, was a Thai-style hot and sour coconut milk and mushroom soup. Absolutely delicious. Flavours of chili, lemon, lime, coconut milk, ginger and mushroom, with lemon rice and carrots added at the end (an accompaniment to yesterday's dinner) to give substance. On the side we had potato cakes to dip into the soup (not homemade sadly).
Our late afternoon treat was a little plate of dairy-free fairy cakes with a dark chocolate, golden syrup and almond flake topping. They sound nicer than they tasted. Don't get me wrong; they are very tasty little cakes, but nothing special. What is special about them, however, is that they were very tasty and dairy free and my first attempt at making fairy cakes alone. Well, alone excepting the muscle-power of mixing that my beloved provided - reminds me of when we plastered the lounge, except I was the one doing the mixing that time and the fairy cakes are much nicer on the skin than plaster powder.
For dinner we shall be having the remainder of the soup and probably the rest of the fairy cakes. I expect this will be as two courses, not one.
I am now going to partake of my third fairy cake with a nice cup of tea.
I decided to take a day off to do nothing work-related, so (in among a bit of trashy TV, college work, doing some washing and cleaning the house) I decided to experiment in the kitchen.
Breakfast was toasted rye bread with fried eggs and grilled baby tomatoes.
Number two, coming in as a late lunch, was a Thai-style hot and sour coconut milk and mushroom soup. Absolutely delicious. Flavours of chili, lemon, lime, coconut milk, ginger and mushroom, with lemon rice and carrots added at the end (an accompaniment to yesterday's dinner) to give substance. On the side we had potato cakes to dip into the soup (not homemade sadly).
Our late afternoon treat was a little plate of dairy-free fairy cakes with a dark chocolate, golden syrup and almond flake topping. They sound nicer than they tasted. Don't get me wrong; they are very tasty little cakes, but nothing special. What is special about them, however, is that they were very tasty and dairy free and my first attempt at making fairy cakes alone. Well, alone excepting the muscle-power of mixing that my beloved provided - reminds me of when we plastered the lounge, except I was the one doing the mixing that time and the fairy cakes are much nicer on the skin than plaster powder.
For dinner we shall be having the remainder of the soup and probably the rest of the fairy cakes. I expect this will be as two courses, not one.
I am now going to partake of my third fairy cake with a nice cup of tea.
Black Swan and psychosis
I watched Black Swan last night and it made me incredibly anxious. Psychological thrillers or anything to do with severe mental health, especially psychosis or hallucinations, have always terrified me more than gun shooting, physical violence and car chases, though I don't like them either. I remember studying psychopathologies at university and each lecture would bring me more anxiety as I pored over the symptoms to see how many of those on list I could relate to. I know lots of people who did this with the medical dictionary in our sixth form library, but for me, it's the so-called mental illnesses that frighten me more than the physical ones.
I have a feeling that I have more direct knowledge of them, as well as theoretical knowledge, than many people, so I wonder if this means I am less scared than most because I understand more, or more scared than most because I can't ignore these issues and have more contact with them (or perhaps, obsess over them!). Certainly reading about treatment and management helps significantly, but it's the many thousands of despairing untreated people that my heart breaks for. And, what if, one day, I become one of them? One of the untreated: slowly, invisibly and inexorably fading away in a darkened room, or drinking themselves to death. I would hope that those who love me would be there to look out for me, perhaps more successfully and confidently than they have in the past with (slightly) more minor crises, but you never know because everyone has their own life and their own issues to focus on. If you're looking the other way, for whatever reason, you may not see.
What is it, I wonder, that makes mental illness so much more frightening than physical illnesses? What is it about going mad that instills such fear? Is it the idea of losing your 'self', perhaps? I know that the idea of taking most of the drugs around always made me anxious when I was younger, for that very reason - what if I lost my 'self' somewhere along the way and never found it again, or never found a new one?
I feel compelled to read, watch and write about the very things that terrify me the most and I rather suspect that this is so I can explore them, to understand, to know. Knowledge and understanding, to me, are security.
Then there's the whole debate about madness and spirituality. For the scientific, anything that is not science is hallucination, whether this is just a random experience or part of an illness. For the spiritual, it often feels very hard to know where to draw the line between spiritual experience and psychosis, certainly when non-believers become aware of these experiences. I certainly don't know where this line lies. Any thoughts concerning this particular issue would be welcome. I'm deeply curious about this.
I have a feeling that I have more direct knowledge of them, as well as theoretical knowledge, than many people, so I wonder if this means I am less scared than most because I understand more, or more scared than most because I can't ignore these issues and have more contact with them (or perhaps, obsess over them!). Certainly reading about treatment and management helps significantly, but it's the many thousands of despairing untreated people that my heart breaks for. And, what if, one day, I become one of them? One of the untreated: slowly, invisibly and inexorably fading away in a darkened room, or drinking themselves to death. I would hope that those who love me would be there to look out for me, perhaps more successfully and confidently than they have in the past with (slightly) more minor crises, but you never know because everyone has their own life and their own issues to focus on. If you're looking the other way, for whatever reason, you may not see.
What is it, I wonder, that makes mental illness so much more frightening than physical illnesses? What is it about going mad that instills such fear? Is it the idea of losing your 'self', perhaps? I know that the idea of taking most of the drugs around always made me anxious when I was younger, for that very reason - what if I lost my 'self' somewhere along the way and never found it again, or never found a new one?
I feel compelled to read, watch and write about the very things that terrify me the most and I rather suspect that this is so I can explore them, to understand, to know. Knowledge and understanding, to me, are security.
Then there's the whole debate about madness and spirituality. For the scientific, anything that is not science is hallucination, whether this is just a random experience or part of an illness. For the spiritual, it often feels very hard to know where to draw the line between spiritual experience and psychosis, certainly when non-believers become aware of these experiences. I certainly don't know where this line lies. Any thoughts concerning this particular issue would be welcome. I'm deeply curious about this.