Sutton Coldfield

Swimming pool :-)

Two birds

For Mama!

Grosvenor Park

Chatting to fat squirrels and a heron on Xmas Day.

First times

So I drove home from my friends' wedding last night and there were a number of firsts for me - first time driving in heels, first time driving in heavy rain, first time driving through massive road-wide puddles and first time driving on country roads in the dark. All in all I did rather well, I thought. The man was way more relaxed than usual too, though that may have had more to do with the number of boozy drinks consumed.

Anyway I now know that I don't like driving in the pouring rain. I also don't really like puddles, though I can handle them. I really don't like other drivers who don't bother dipping their lights. I don't mind driving in small heels and I surprisingly do like driving down dark country lanes that are mainly empty. It was a bit like playing a racing game on the computer, though thankfully slower and, blessedly, with way more skill.

Brainless chilling...

...with reference to my previous post 'absence', it turns out I was right.

Digesting, taking time out, brainless chilling or wasting time - it's an essential skill in creating resilience. Call it what you will: it matters.

Check out this: Building resilience by wasting time.

First subzero cycle ride

I was a bit nervous, partly about whether I'd get frostbite and partly about whether I'd slip on ice and fall and break a bone and then freeze to death, immobile, unable to find my phone. All rather extreme, I appreciate.

The anxiety of driving the scary car in such conditions was worse than the anxiety of cycling, so I chose to ride.

I knew the roads would be gritted, but I didn't want roads - I wanted my usual ride through the university grounds and I can be very stubborn. No ice or frost or minus temperatures will stop me having my way!!

It now seems obvious, but even the tiniest path in the university was (miraculously) gritted...obvious, because in this silly country we are terrified of health and safety 'issues' and presumably they didn't want anyone to slip, break a bone and then freeze to death, all because they walked through ungritted university grounds. Makes me wonder how we survived as children...

Anyway, it was only marginally chillier than plus 4*C. One pair of tights might become two next time and my two pairs of gloves were replaced on the way home with one pair and one pair of snowboarding mittens - slightly trickier to change gear, but less risk of frostbite.

After all this, I'm glad I rode and the reason is because my ride made me feel incredibly happy. Sitting in a car, I'd have been warm and cosy and safe, but riding I was free, liberated and able to live in a crisp, invigorating world that bit at my cheeks and made my heart swoop towards the sky. It was stunningly beautiful this morning. I'll post some pics, so you can see what I mean.

What a beautiful world we live in.

Ice spikes

View from the bridge

View behind me

Snail curiosity

Usually, coming home from swimming on a Tuesday evening at 10pm, we have a dimly lit snail-based obstacle course down the side of the house. This misty dark evening there were none and I wondered where our little friends go when it is below zero. Much as I detest accidentally standing on them and hearing that awful crunch, I don't like the thought of their moist little bodies freezing solid, even if it would act as a kind of armour.

Some say they that as they magically disappear just as sprouts appear on our plates, clearly they turn into little green cabbages and jump onto supermarket shelves. Others say they go to Camden. Some say they burrow deeply and freeze, hibernating until they warm up again, while others say they produce anti-freeze in their blood.

Other, possibly more sensible people, say that they crawl beneath stuff and wait it out until winter, hibernating until things warm up again. It appears, you see, that the deeper you go (as with water), the warmer it gets. Clever snails, sleeping through winter.

I'm not really interested enough to do any more snail-related delving, because my curiosity is satisfied by the word 'hibernate'. They obviously go somewhere warmer (if darker) for the winter months and that's enough for me to know.

Anyway, I came across a cute website that I thought I'd share with you, in case you ever decide you want a pet snail. It's called My Pet Snail.

Today I love

The sunshine. The way frosty grass crackles underfoot. The cold air on my cheeks. How warm my ears are under my ear muffs. The blue skies. The orange and pink clouds. Life. You.

Absence

I feel as if there has been a lack of the inner me in my posts for a while. The inner me that is curious about the workings of people, that is deeply passionate about fulfilment, understanding, perception, insight and mental wellbeing.

I had intended to apologise for this, but even as I type, I realise that other sides of me have been absent for a longer while - the side of me that sees pretty things outdoors and wants to share them; the side of me that becomes indignant and doesn't want to understand another's pain; the side of me that is grumpy or bored or fed up with the weather; and the side of me that delights in simple things, like making guacamole and fairy cakes.

So as I type and decide I'm not going to apologise, because all sides of me are valid.

I think about learning (and therefore life) and about how important it is to take time out sometimes, to just digest and chill, to become, perhaps, ever so slightly brainless for a bit, while everything settles inside, before taking another step.

And another

With bird.

Text pest

I've been suffering at the hands of a text pest. At first I was distraught, but only for a short while, before I became enraged and disgusted with such pathetic behaviour.

I realised that for him to need to send such disgusting texts to a stranger...to hope to get some reaction from a person that could, for all he knows, be his grandfather, must mean that he has something seriously shit going on. Either he's got no life, or he has some addiction, or his life is so dull that he has to content himself with pestering strangers. Or he's just a nasty person.

Then I vacillated between pity and wanting to laugh at his pathetic attempts to regain power by trying to take away someone else's.

I am left feeling that I will not tolerate this shit from anyone. And I really don't care. He is worth only being laughed at, for being so utterly ridiculous.

Still slightly gobsmacked.

Chicks

Some chickens we met on our weekend away in the South Downs. Delightful, gorgeous little chickens. They made me very happy with their gurgling, cooing sounds. :-)

Best Mama in the world...

...is what I have. She listens. She understands. She gets. Her heart is compassion. She sees beneath the surface, in ways you might not imagine. She knows, although sometimes she might wish she didn't. She feels all the colours of the rainbow and then some, with an intensity that would frighten most. She is stronger than you or I could ever have imagined. She is love. Sometimes it takes a while, but she will always get there in the end. She will always love me and she will always understand, even when she or I think she doesn't.

I've never given her full credit before, but now I see her with clear eyes. It is my Mama who taught me to love and to see the world as a beautiful place. Peace and love to a truly beautiful woman.

Our little Xmas tree...

...is happily settled into her new home for the next month or so, in between Imran (the yucca) and Lily (the peace lily).

She doesn't have a name, but she's so glamorous with her tinsel, sparkles, lit up star and white bead necklaces that she doesn't need one.

West Wittering

Pretty leaves...

...and cold ears!

Frozen spider home

Well it's a bit chilly today. Bright sunshine, blue skies and plenty of frost.

View from our B&B

Misty, subzero, beautiful.

Champagne morning

Mr Gordon, from down the road, used to sometimes greet me with a smile and say "A champagne crisp morning!"

I never really understood what he meant, but it was always a day like today: crisp, blue skies, bright sunshine, subzero air, cold enough to see my breath, that delicious way that the sun has on such days to blind you unexpectedly as you round a corner, so, just for a second, your world is nothing but light.

Today, walking down the street, breathing in the scent of a wood burning stove, I remember Mr Gordon and, though I'm sure he never carried one, I will always remember him in a black bowler hat to match his long black umbrella and black shiny shoes.

Nice things...

Dullsville

What is it with November weather this year? Guess we're liking the number '12' tomorrow.

At least I can use my new brolly. Yay!

Even flatter

At least it makes deciding what to wear easier. No brolly, no sunglasses, no need to worry about waterproof feet or coat. No need to worry about layers that I can remove when it gets warmer or add on when it gets colder. Nice even seven...

Breakthrough

Just come out of my darkroom to find that the grey monotonous sky has broken into clear blue, with bright sunshine lighting up the oranges and yellows of autumn. How utterly divine!

Flatlining

This has to be the dullest weather forecast I have ever seen. It's not even raining, so I can't use my gorgeous new brolly. Roll on the weekend!!

Our delicious meal

Oooh, homemade chips, coated in sesame oil and sprinkled with salt, black pepper and cayenne pepper. We served them up with broccoli, oyster mushrooms fried in garlic, and mussels.

It was hard to find a recipe for mussels that didn't involve either cream or white wine, but eventually we cooked them in coconut milk, with a couple of finely chopped spring onions, two chillis and a garlic, plus some ginger, lime and fish sauce. Honestly the most delicious mussels I have ever eaten.

Clever us! Or maybe food made together, with love, tastes of love.

Shame about the photo, but just to give you an idea.

We didn't use the coriander or lemongrass, and we substituted ground nut oil for sesame oil, but otherwise, this is the recipe we used: Thai style mussels.

Autumn

Colours. Beautiful. Bright. Crisp. Happy.

Wood burner?

I want one. :-)

Bracknell Forest

We decided to go for a wander in the forest today and lovely it was too. We came across many yummy looking mushrooms, but I was too scared to pick any of those we found. Instead I bought four different types the minute we got home. We also saw some rather random sludgy stuff. If anyone knows what it is and if it's poisonous, please let me know. I'm rather curious. It didn't make me want to eat any.

Me and him

Random sludgy stuff on tree stump

Pretty ferns and trees

My yummy guacamole

I can rarely buy it in shops because it's full of double cream, so I make my own and today's is especially tasty. Sorry for the terrible photo.

- one avocado
- half a medium sized tomato
- three tablespoons soya yoghurt
- pinch of salt
- a number of totally unmeasured dashes of cumin, cinnamon, garlic, paprika, cayenne and chilli (the same spices that will go into our fajita mix)

Yummy. Can't wait for dinner!

Shame

Just watched a very interesting TED talk on shame that, at times, made me want to cry. The truth often makes me want to cry, especially if it's a truth that resonates or one that is not often acknowledged.

One part especially touched me. It was a section on how if a woman can sit with a man and be with him in his shame, without judging, just sitting with him on his journey, she is doing something amazing. This touched me because of men I have worked with as a counsellor and who I know in my heart my acceptance of them in their entirety and my honesty about the space between us as I perceived it, healed something in them. It touched me because I could see that so many women in their lives misjudge them or don't allow them to be who they are and shame continues this game.

I don't claim to be perfect - in part the story brought tears to my eyes because it made me realise how imperfect I am and how difficult I can be with my own man, but all I can do is to keep trying my best, apologising when I've done something I feel is wrong and forgiving myself each time I screw up.

Brené Brown talks on shame here.

Remembering how to love someone

Just came across something I wrote about five years ago and for some reason it makes me stop and think.

"If I love you truly, it’s because I can see your essence. I see a glimpse of something deeply beautiful inside you, like a shining light that shows me who you were as a child. It lights up all the dark corners of your being, showing me your faults and flaws and everything that makes you human. It shines through your skin, so that you too become deeply beautiful. No matter how ugly you might think you are on the outside, to me you are beautiful. Once I have seen that raw core (and as long as you keep letting me see it), once I have touched that part of you with my eyes and therefore with my heart (and as long as you keep that part of you open to me), I will always love you. Is this what they call the soul? Is this what I see inside you? Is this what makes you ‘you’? This light I see shining out of you, is this you? This light I see shining out of you, do I have one of those too? Is it my inner light that makes me who I am? I see something inside you that defines who you are to me. Do I have that something too? Do I have something inside of me, like a light, that shines out of me and that defines who I am?"

Important, maybe, to never lose sight of that thing you once saw in someone that made you say "I love you", otherwise you might forget how to love them.

Words that were never spoken

I found this in my scribblings just now; something that was written but never shared, when we were less than a year in and we were living in different countries.

It makes me smile, now, when I read it. It is a nice reminder of how things once were. I don't miss those times, but it's nice to remember them. Beautiful in a totally different way to how things are now.

“The flat seems a little empty without you.” 

I wanted to reply, “My heart feels empty without you,” but instead I said, “I know how the flat feels.” 

I haven’t spoken to him of love yet. I keep remembering that if you like someone, it is about you and your preferences, not about the other person. You like avocado or pineapple. You like a guy. If you love someone, this is not about you. You feel love for them because you see that they are lovable – it is a quality of the other person.

I can’t express to him how I feel because I don’t know. I want him to know that he is special and that I value him beyond what my words can describe. I want him to know that he is worth a lot to me. I see his heart; I see his essence. When we lie next to one another, just looking at each other – I see the light in his eyes, I stroke the lines of his face and I see indescribable beauty.

I see the light in his eyes and I wonder if he loves me. I wonder if I love him.

For the children

Wow. Just watched an amazing talk on TED that blew me away. The man is truly astonishing in his honesty and depth of feeling.

This is a recognition of what is missing for children who have no parents or who have parents who cannot give them what they need.

A child of the state

Cookies

Love this so much I had to share it on my blog. No idea where it originates, but found it on a certain social networking site.

Pretty heels versus comfy flats

My feet are killing me from all the tramping around various towns and cities today, so I am deeply grateful for having been wearing my Converse all day, as I'm sure (evil) pretty heels would have completely destroyed the bone structure in my tootsies by now.

I am also fairly confident that I slipped on a (now very dead) slug coming up the dark path to our front door, surely also a safer experience in comfy trainers than in pretty heels.

Mounting evidence that flats are a much better choice than heels any day.

Sheep

I had to return to Old Street today, to pick up some papers from my old counselling college, and I assumed my feet would find their habitual way back to Moorgate, a trip they used to make every week for a year. Either they didn't, or someone has been moving buildings and possibly deleting an entire square.

I found myself lost and absolutely refused to use my phone to find my way, because I count myself as someone who 'knows' London, having lived in it for ten years. Happily, before the miniscule twinges of panic took grip, I was distracted by lights! Not just any lights, but a square full of lit up yellow and green lines, edged with warnings of tripping hazards (lesson number one in how to take the fun out of an installation). It looked like a disco floor, so obviously I took a detour so I could walk across it and it was absolutely as exciting as I thought it would be.

As I crossed this square, with no idea of where I was going, I suddenly noticed the sheep - thick rivers of people in suits all headed in the same direction - and it was then that I realised that finding a tube station in London in rush hour is remarkably easy - just follow the largest river of people.

To my delight this worked, though it took me to Liverpool Street station rather than Moorgate, but that was fine. Clearly this trick only works if you don't really care which station you end up at, but really, once you're in the tube system, it's impossible to get lost, at least, for a seasoned ex Londoner such as myself.

I felt slightly sad not to be meeting up with anyone, the love of London in my heart and me wanting to share it, but it's been a long day of client work, punctuated by tea (with soya milk) and polenta cake with my friend and her daughter in the cafe in Highgate Woods, with sunshine and trees all around.

Actually, on reflection, it's good that I'm going home, because this deep excitement and thrill I feel, when I lived in London, often led to over-activity, no time for myself, not enough sleep and an increasing sense of restlessness. I used to end up feeling, after all the excitement and endless nights out, like an overtired, grumpy toddler.

I've had a great date with London today, but I've no desire to have the relationship I used to have with it. I'm happy to go home, put on my slipper socks, heat up my leftover mango chutney and shallot chicken from last night and read a good book. Despite that, I'm glad that my love for London has finally returned, but without the attachment and slightly codependent feeling.

A happy me is on the slow train home.

Beautiful skies

And no idea how to post right way round from my phone....

Thanks to my chicks

Had the most wonderful weekend with my ladies in the Cotswolds at a gorgeous water park, with wooden lodges and views over the verandah to the lakes. Pitch black at night, with amazing views of the stars and the milky way.

We started with some initially hilarious attempts at tandem cycling, which ended rather successfully I thought - my friend Sarah and I are certainly more attuned to one another after our efforts and know much more about each others' starting and free wheeling positions! After hours of bright, clear sunshine, we were attacked at the end of our ride by hail, and finally headed home for some well-earned cups of tea and snacks, followed by afternoon snooze time in the returning sunshine.

'We' (my lovely companions) made a wonderful dinner of veggie risotto (courgette and sweet potato), with lemon and garlic prawns and steak. Afters were meringue with strawberries, topped with grated dark chocolate.

The evening brought chill out time, with films, games and a face mask, made by my sister, of cucumber, some kind of plant she had picked, lemon juice and jelly - smothered on, we looked like leprotic zombies staggering around the lodge.

Sunday started with an hour of yoga in the glorious sunshine, with views of the mist on the lakes and all around us, like diamonds filling the air. In line with our cleansed yogic minds, we made a full English breakfast (yummy bacon!), went for a short ramble around the fields and lakes to work off a tiny portion of the fat we had consumed, then returned home to eat a full roast chicken and roast salmon lunch.

All in all, a weekend of absolute pleasure and enjoyment, with some wonderful women who have shared my life from my childhood through to now, and have been with me through a colourful range of experiences and adventures. Wonderful to be together for the first time in years with no man distractions and no little people distractions - just time together to reflect, chat and (mainly) laugh a lot. Must never forget the value and importance of taking time out to be with those who love and understand me.

Power and confidence

The days are drawing in. I love the oranges and yellows carpeting the ground. I love the crispness in the air. I love the darkness of the evenings and feeling cosy in our home. Despite this, I am aware of a creeping something that makes me uncertain. I know what it is, because it happens every year. It's the days drawing in. It's the lack of light impacting how my brain functions.

I know how to cope with it these days - my SAD lamp, taking chances, saying 'yes' to things when I'd rather stay home, exercising, being outside as much as possible, not eating too much, being nice to myself, treating myself and making sure I have enough sleep. It's also about reminding myself that any low points are all just a trick of the light and will disappear in spring when the days begin to get longer again. It's all good, actually.

As part of this process of remembering, I also read and watch things that might teach me more about how to feel positive about myself in the timeframe between October and spring. One of these things is a very interesting video on power and confidence and the value of body language.

The woman talks about how powerful body language impacts not only how others see and judge us, but how we feel inside and about how we judge ourselves. Very interesting. You can see the video here.

The grey areas

I watched a video that intrigued me. It's about defining who is and who is not mad. It's about how once people know you're mad, they want to keep you in that box. Everything you do, they define as part of your madness. People don't like grey areas. Grey scares people - it is neither one nor the other.

It reminds me very much of the book I've been writing for two years. Where do you draw the line between what is madness and what is socially acceptable? Who draws this line and who judges who has crossed that line? How do you get back once you have crossed that line and how do you re-evaluate and rebuild your own identity?

The TED video gave me much to think about. Click here to see it.

Grr, bark, woof!

And I liked this too, which I found as part of Seth Godin's talk on broken things.

I think I like those Canadians... :-)

Cycling

A friend posted this, but I don't know the source or origin. It made me smile because it is so very true. :-)

I'm well 'ard

Well I did it! I managed the 'easy' ride in Ruthin - 29km riding with over 1km climbing. It was difficult and I had to walk in some places - mainly uphill, but one short downhill too which was mainly grass and bracken underfoot, with brambles to my right and gorse to my left. I didn't feel too bad when I got back, but there were times my morale dipped on the way!

It took me three hours, 17 mins and 44 seconds. My lovely man did the easy ride with me and stayed mainly by my side or behind me to encourage me and occasionally share delight at the amazing views. He didn't join in, however, when I baa-ed at the sheep or quacked at the ducks.

The start of the route was in Ruthin and we climbed up the long road to the highest carpark near Moel Famau. I was properly impressed with myself having never thought I'd be able to do what I saw others do!

It constantly amazes me what I am capable of when I try things I think I cannot do. I think it's physical achievements more than others that really push my boundaries, because my down points, I always see, are all psychological.

Of course most people there would have beat me, but the fact that I did it makes me beam...in a slightly tired and achey way.

Taking risks

I made up a delicious new meal today. Tried it out on myself, and found it yummy, and have now made it for my man. We shall see if he likes it!

It is chicken breast, skinless, smothered in mango chutney and covered in sliced shallots, wrapped up in a silver foil and baked for 20 minutes. Served with rice. Surprisingly delicious.

You may wonder what my inspiration was. Simple. Contents of fridge and cupboard. Life offers surprising opportunities. All we have to do is to take those opportunities. If you take a risk once in a while, you never know what delights may come your way.

I did not die

A beloved friend of mine posted this recently following a loss. It brought tears to my eyes because of its truth and so I wanted to share it with you.


Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there.
I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there.
I did not die.

Mary Elizabeth Frye

It's not so bad...

It's not so bad being home after all. Me today, working from 'home'. The sun was as hot as in Zagreb, the music as civilised as the cafe I was in near Kamenita Vrata and the culinary options infinitely improved.

 

And my view today. Almost as nice as Zagreb...

I was in Pau Brasil, Reading, a fabulously delightful little cafe that offers the perfect place to work, with wide open shutters letting in the sunshine.



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Utterly unimportant yet happy making

It would appear that swimming between 200m and 800m every day and hiking up and down small hills for half an hour a day tones one up. And it was fun. And I ate very tasty food and lots of it.

Anyway, in among all the fun exercise and eating, I appear to have to left 2.5kg somewhere between here and Croatia. Wasn't trying to lose it, but can't say I'm overly sad about it either.

I must find more fun physical activities to engage in on a more regular basis. Happy me.

Another small thing that made my day was coming home to a lovely clean flat. I obviously married the right man. Even happier me.

Tugomila Kosorčić, nee Podhraški

I've just come home from the cemetery, which is a beautiful large place, full of trees and peace.

We visited my aunt - the first time I've been - and it hit me harder than I expected, seeing her name in gold lettering on the black stone headstone. I was caught in my heart by something quite painful and sharp that brought tears to my eyes and made me feel as if the bottom of my heart had opened up into some deeper cavern full of emotions that usually remain hidden.

We sat a while in silence and I rested my hands at the foot of her stone slab, stroking it with my fingers as if it were her arm, like I did the last time I saw her. I had a flash in my mind of climbing into the grave and curling up on her lap, as I used to as a child, snuggling into her cuddly body. Part of me really wished that I could, only I know that the body that lies there now is no longer cuddly in the same way and it doesn't hold the person I loved anymore.

It was good to know where she lies now and to see the trees around her and to hear the birds singing. It's a nice final resting place.

As time passed, the tears stopped flowing and the sadness began to lift, replaced only with peace and a certain clarity about what I need to do in life. I now feel shattered. I hadn't realised it would take so much out of me. I suppose opening the cavern full of emotions takes a lot of effort and perhaps closing the door on that cavern is difficult too. I also suppose, or perhaps I know, that this was important for me.

It's all part of the process and it's a process many of us don't like to return to, but death is not going to stop happening and as we get older, it will become ever more frequent. Better to start coping with it properly now than to wait until that cavern is so full that it becomes impossible to enter. As well as the sadness, the cavern is full of photos and videos, memories of what has been. These are all valuable gifts that can teach us about how to be happier in our own lives. It's all part of the process.

Working from 'home'

I've been working from 'home' today, in Zagreb, and it is absolutely delicious. How I long to live here a while!

This is me, working.

I look a little rough and somehow sad, but I wasn't at all. I was very happy, albeit slightly hot and sweaty. Instead of little white parasols, they have now planted vines that grow up the trellis and I was sitting in the half shade of this, listening to the silence of those praying at Kamenita Vrata and the talks of the tour guides taking tourists around Zagreb.

This was my view as I worked. Heavenly. With loose leaf Earl Grey in a rather annoying but delightfully British cup.

 This is where I was.


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En route

I wrote this last night while en route from the island to Zagreb. 

"So today was my last day in Veli Lošinj. We went swimming early, straight after breakfast without even clearing up first – such a treat. At Rovenska we went straight into the cool crystal clear waters, and we swam and played catch with the lovely manky old tennis ball we’ve been playing with for years. This time Mama managed to hit me in the head once and then right in my left ear, making it ring temporarily. “Child abuse” I screeched, but really I couldn’t complain having hit her in the face a few days previously and awarding her with a fat lip.

This year, leaving my Mama has made me so sad. I couldn’t keep my tears back and I feel a huge lump in my throat. It always affected me like this as a child – with delight I always arrived and when we left I felt bereft and somehow orphaned.

It’s hard being a child of two cultures, constantly torn between the two. Or perhaps, rather than being torn between two cultures, it’s being torn from those I love that makes me sad.

I feel sad thinking of her alone in the little flat now, though I know she will enjoy the peace and quiet, as well as occasionally perhaps feeling a little lonely. I find it hard to bear thinking of anyone I love being unhappy. I wish she were coming with me on this seven hour coach journey to Zagreb. Or I wish she would be there already, waiting for me, having made my bed and, perhaps, prepared some chicken soup for my arrival, but I know that the Zagreb flat will be empty and, for the first time in two weeks, I’ll be sleeping in a room on my own.

I don’t think it’s possible to have the happiness without the corresponding sadness and I suppose that the level of my sadness this year is a sign of how much I have loved being on the island with my Mama.

I have a day of work and two nights sleep in Zagreb, before I catch a flight back to my new husband, who, it must be acknowledged, I have missed."

I woke this morning feeling no less sorry for myself, but to wake on the first day to have breakfast alone after two weeks of breakfasting with someone is just quite odd. Plus which the vile builders under the window woke me by their arguing and shouting: not a nice way to wake up.

Anyway, just got some messages from my Mama which was lovely, and no doubt after a nice cup of tea everything will become rosier. It always does. As I look out of the window, the sun is finally shining through the clouds.

And again

This time she beat me by three points. So close, yet still so far. :-(

At least the sun shines on my last day and I have no less than three cups of tea waiting for me to drink - having made my own, then Mama made me one, then, upon seeing one without milk next to the kettle (but with a carton of soya milk next to it) I asked Mama if she'd made me one, to which she said yes and so I added the soya milk...to her tea. (blush)

So it is that on my last day I have three cups of tea for breakfast. Must eat quickly my delicious meal of polenta with ham, so we can head to the beach for my last Adriatic swim of the year.

Penultimate day in Veli Losinj

We woke to a warm morning and sat outside for breakfast, watching the lizards play and scurry in the half sunshine, trying to catch ants and the odd butterfly foolish enough to swoop down so low to the ground.

At lunchtime, we made our way down to Rovenska harbour to enjoy a light meal of calamari, blitva, French fries and salad. We watched shoals of fish jump out of the sea, like a smattering of gentle rain, as children threw pieces of bread into the waters next to our seats; and a somnolence settled around us as if a heavy blanket made of the finest strands of sunlight was resting upon our shoulders. I began to feel quite dozy, wanting nothing more than to snooze for a while on the pebbled beach, listening to the water lapping nearby.

As we paid the bill, all ready for a few hours at the beach, the grumbling thunder began to make itself heard, as if reproaching us for our laziness. Mama went home, anxious about the storm, while I went on and swam a fresh and invigorating 200m or so, in the calm clear seas, marked only by ever increasing circles as the droplets of rain gently began to fall.

I am home again now, my mind alert yet peaceful, as I listen to the gentle rain fall outside, hitting the leaves of the oleander and mandarin trees, and perhaps also some roofs made of tin or wood. It has been a good penultimate day on the island.

New yoga class

This post is to raise awareness of a fantastic new yoga class run by my delightful sister. You can find out more information by clicking here.

The class is on Tuesdays in central London from 6.30pm to 8pm. Last week's sequence was to increase courage and to open the heart and the sequence for the second class is to increase stamina and creativity. Each week, the class focuses on different areas of development and you will find that she provides a very powerful and strengthening form of yoga. Even if she wasn't my sister, I'd definitely be sharing news about her classes. She's seriously the best yoga teacher I've ever had the pleasure of studying/working with.

You can find out more about her training, experience and teachings on her website, by clicking here. There are also some photos that show you what you too could achieve by attending her classes!

One day

296 to me and 297 to Mama. I had most of the vowels and she had most of the consonants. One day I shall beat her!!

Our final layout

Christmas came early

Today the island smells of Christmas, with liquid resin dripping from the pines above.

It started around 1 o'clock in the afternoon with heavy, dark clouds and a few gentle spots of rain, maybe a few distant rumbles of thunder. Suddenly, all went black, as if dusk had come upon us and the wind picked up, causing the bay tree to bend almost horizontal.

We locked up shop, taking everything indoors. As we shut the front door shutters, the rain began to fall in sheets and the clean tiles in the garden were covered with debris. We went to lock the window shutters from inside the bedroom and debris was blowing in horizontally through the back bedroom window right into my eyes, making it hard to see. Then the hailstones began to fall, the size of ten pence pieces. I was so glad I'd decided not to go swimming!

It lasted maybe 15 minutes, maybe half an hour, then it was gone, a peaceful and gentle rain falling and the dark skies lifting to a paler shade of grey.

We've just come back from an exploratory walk around the island, now covered in the debris of trees and other plants, to see dozens of enormous pines snapped in half and torn from their roots, some breaking concrete where they landed. In the hospital park, one sequoia snapped at about six foot and fell, narrowly missing a row of windows where it landed. Agave plants have been torn from their roots too, especially those that are 12 foot tall and taller, in flower.

The damage is very specific, worst in the harbour behind the church, but mostly only one or two trees hurt, with all others around intact and happy with the feeding of rain after almost three months of sunshine. We think it may have been another tornado, similar to one we had when I was small, but it's hard to know.

The sun is shining again, six hours later, and everywhere is open for business as usual, just with fresh piles of chopped pine wood to the side and pine needles carpeting the ground.

Enough excitement for the day. It's time to make dinner and return to business as usual here too.

1104m and beer

I've been swimming across the bay and back of my favourite bay (here) and just tried to work out far it is. I'm terrible at estimating distances and although I knew it was quite a bit longer than my usual pool lengths of 25m, I guessed it to be about 75m across. This meant, in my mind, that swimming across and back twice, would be like doing 12 lengths and with my aim of 10 lengths a day, this was good going - especially with the waves and currents making it all a little bit harder.

Today I did three runs across the bay and back and I became curious, so I just checked it out on t'internet. Turns out that the distance (if I manage a properly straight line, which I never do) is just over 184m. Which means today I did more than 1,104m swimming - my straight lines not being at all straight and my efforts including a detour to meet a woman's niece halfway across the bay to retrieve a bag containing a can of beer for aforementioned woman.

Speaking of which, it is most odd to meet someone for the first time when you're both swimming naked. Especially when they want to shake hands. Not being able to quite see her outstretched hand under the waves, I was a little anxious about grasping the wrong thing and shaking hands under water anyway is odd. As it turned out, it was all fine, but saying "Pleased to meet you" while bobbing up and down and trying to retrieve a can of beer, is a most peculiar experience.

Incidentally, I knew the woman already and have been chatting to her, a lovely Slovenian woman, since I was small. It wasn't a completely random meeting.

Sticky

After a rather frustrating morning in Zagreb, not knowing how to turn on gas, I had a cold shower and no polenta for breakfast. Thankfully, Croatian bakeries are amazing, so I bought a slanica (salty thing - soft bread stick with a slight saltiness to its surface) and a kind of apple strudel. The journey was calm and I had a great seat on the coach - front seat, almost as if I was driving.

On board the ferry, finally, I bought tea, did some work on my laptop and then sat on top deck in the hot sunshine, watching the water roll back in frothy white waves alongside the boat.

We managed a swim, my Mama and I, and played catch in the water too. Later in the evening, when all I wanted was to sleep, we went to visit the nuns, her nuns, her friends. We listened to them, and some children, play piano and flute and sing songs. It was quite delightful but by 9.15pm I was well and truly ready for bed.

This morning I finished off my work, sitting in the shade of the oleander and the mandarin tree my brother planted over 30 years ago and then, later, we walked down into the harbour to buy some yummy veggies and olives. Now, I shall be going for a walk in the hills to Javorna to get some swimming and peace on a far away beach, hopefully able to cool down in the sea for a while before trekking back across the hills, the dust of the paths sticking again to my hot skin.

Tonight we have a fresh fish BBQ at a my uncle and aunt's, along with numerous cousins and their children. It will be a good feed for sure, though I hope I can avoid the customary 'appetiser' that I have never enjoyed, to my mind too much like paint stripper. Terribly ungrateful of me, I know.

Teta Tugica

The wardrobe door, when I opened it, reminded me of Narnia, except instead of Narnia, it was a world where my aunt was still alive. The scent of her clothes suddenly created a tiny chink that let through a glimmer of hope that she is still alive somewhere around the corner, waiting for me. Then, the scent overwhelmed me as I was hit with a whole range of micro emotions I can't even identify.

It's funny. Everything goes round in circles: grief, sadness and acceptance, until finally you get to a slightly heavy, gently sad place of knowing everything is as it is and life goes on even when life has gone. It's impossible to change how things are and true acceptance is one of the most wonderful gifts we have. This slightly heavy, gently sad place of knowing is still settling in my heart and it's okay. In among the weight is the dancing pleasure of having known her and knowing that I knew her soul, her humour and her love.

HOT

Not felt even the slightest bit of cold since I stepped off the plane. Well, that's a lie. My feet felt cold when I washed them in cold water in the sink, but they're hot again now. I almost didn't wash them, but I heard my Mama's voice in my ear and I remembered how, as a child, I would scramble into bed with dirty feet and she would grab them, one by one, from under the sheets and wipe them clean with a damp facecloth. I was a good girl this evening, washing my feet, and I can rest easy in her clean sheets knowing my feet are clean too.

Sleeeeeep. And then tomorrow more travels down to the coast to see my teacher of how to have clean feet.

Croatian English Croatian

When I got the coach from the airport the bus driver spoke to the guy in front of me (incidentally, the guy next to me on the plane) in English. He then looked at me. Opened his mouth and shut it. Looked at me again. Then he spoke to me in Croatian.

I'm not sure what it was. Maybe my slight tan and freckles from having been outdoors for four days camping and cycling - suggested I wasn't English. Maybe my confident attitude - suggested I'd been there before. Or maybe it was just because I was tired of waiting so, after putting my suitcase under the bus in the baggage bit, I walked up to the front of the queue and handed him my 100 kuna note.

Pushing to the front of the queue like a true Croat. I am very proud of myself.

Potential

Someone once said to me "never love a man for his potential" meaning I should love him for what he is now.

This morning I woke up and I suddenly remembered that and I have now decided it is wrong. At the time, it stopped me dating men who were nowhere near their potential and had no desire to get there, and so it saved me from unhappiness.

Now, I think it's important for me to be able to love a person for their potential, because this is what helps people to reach the heights they can only dream of. Expect that someone will get there - not now, not tomorrow, maybe not next year, but eventually. Expect that someone can achieve the best that they can be, and they will - not necessarily how you or they might envisage, but in the way they are meant to.

I think the saying should be "Love a man for who is today and for who he will be tomorrow, but don't expect him to be today who he cannot be until tomorrow."

I am also aware that I am not speaking just of men or people you date, but of all people.

That sits better with me.

Thank you to my pet robotic rat

It appears that my pet robotic non-George rat really was looking after me. I passed my driving test first time. Hurrah!

I go from a single woman who doesn't drive to a married driver in the space of a month and I am finding this a huge identity shift. Exhausting.

Must eat and go out to see clients. I can sleep tonight...

Not George

So I had a very strange dream last night. I was in some kind of lab, or classroom or something and everyone had a pet mouse or a pet rat.

I started off with a pet mouse, but he ran away and was so tiny that I couldn't catch him. Then they (whoever 'they' were) gave me a pet rat. As we spoke - because, to everyone else's surprise, my rat could speak - it emerged that he was a robotic rat and he had been assigned to me for some purpose, kind of like my guardian. Those that had assigned him were not the 'they' I mentioned before, but some higher power who I was not aware existed. They did not know of this higher power either - only my pet robotic rat knew of him or her. My rat also told me that he had AI and was perfectly capable of any task I should choose to assign him.

Finally, he told me his name. I thought he was going to tell me it was George or something else equally sensible, but it was a two-part name that is now hovering on the periphery of my memory, something like Reasonably Practical or Sensibly Reasonable or Practically Normal. None of these things, but something very similar.

I am left with an oddness in my mind, as if something happened of importance or maybe that his name was very important, but now I have forgotten it and maybe this is a bad thing...but even so, I have a sense he is somewhere in my mind, prowling the corridors of my neurons to make sure that everything is functioning as it ought to be.

A gift

The best reward is watching someone change in ways that gives them a happier, more fulfilled life; especially knowing that I have helped to facilitate that change. Usually I know through my own experience of our relationship and our work, but occasionally someone tells me themselves, through words or a gift and that always touches me deeply.

Passport - more delights

Oh! And they have cold and warm fronts too!

See picture to demonstrate some of the delights - fronts, weather symbols and dragon fly.

Passport

So my new passport has arrived, valid until mid 2023, a date that doesn't seem real.

Unlike my old passport, I look like a convict. Gone is the smiling face of my Williams passport and here is the stern face of my Shah passport. I do hope this isn't representative of my life!

I assumed with it's fangle dangle chip thingy, that the pages would be tear proof. If Aussies can make money that is tear-resistant, surely the UK passport people can make tear-resistant passport pages. It appears not.

Other than the photo, the obviously fake expiry date and the (now) torn page 5, I am in love with my new passport. It has sparkly wave and bird designs and then other birds in blue and grey, and dragonflies and fishes. It delights me. I was almost in rapture, but not quite there, when I notice the weather symbols. It would appear that new passports have weather symbols, one for each page, in the style of the BBC weather site and so far I have spotted snow, rain, sunshine, cloud, broken cloud with sunshine, thunder and hail or sleet (not sure of what the last one is).

I never imagined getting my passport would be so entertaining and interesting. I urge you all to check the hidden delights of yours, if you have a new one; and if you don't, yet, I wish you much happiness when you finally do!

(See Passport - more delights for more delights!)

The curious arrival of The Jumper

We found a navy blue jumper at our house around the time we got married. It was hanging on the handlebars of one of the bikes. It looks like a man's style. It's small, Jeff Banks, with pale blue stripes going down the arms... Smells of man or hard work or something. I don't recognise the smell, which I was sure I would and I find this odd.

If anyone reading this post owns the jumper, let me know and we'll keep it safe rather than taking it to charity.

Marriage and commitment

It’s a funny old thing, marriage. I have always been ambivalent about it, on the side of anti-marriage if I'm honest, primarily because I have seen it trap otherwise happy people into something that makes them unhappy. I have also always felt that commitment is in my heart, not on a piece of paper, despite the laws in this country that make marriage a safer union legally than other unions. Don’t get me wrong, the ambivalence is not about commitment for me, it’s about the institution, or so I told myself.

In the lead up to my wedding, I felt nothing but anxiety and stress. Little excitement glimmered through the fog for me. In between the complex layers of planning, I began to lose sight of my man and I started to panic, forgetting the whole reason for getting married, and I needed to keep looking him in the eyes, to remember who he was and why I was marrying him. All this stuff you are required to do in order to have, what was in my eyes, a traditional wedding, takes so much away from the whole point of getting married, which is to be with someone you love and to tell the world how you feel.

I thought that the ambivalence would continue to my wedding day, but, unexpectedly, the day of my wedding, and especially as we spoke the vows to one another, I felt happy. Unambiguously and unambivalently happy. I also felt a mild surprise to suddenly know in my heart the full extent of his love and commitment to me and I realise that this brings me closer to the truth of my ambivalence: I had never seen a marriage with the kind of commitment I wanted and so I didn't believe it was possible for another to give me what I wanted and needed. This being the case, why would I want to commit my life to someone forever? I know it's not necessarily about being married, legally, or I believe it isn't that, for me. For me, it's about a public declaration of commitment, in whatever manner it might have happened.

In the last week and a half, I have felt an odd sense of safety and security that I have never known in my life, not even as a child. It’s a sense that someone really does have my back and really truly does love me. I didn’t know this feeling existed, never mind that I was missing it.

So yes, I admit, I am happy. Though one would hope this would be the case only a week and a half into a lifelong commitment!

Work

Slowly slowly, one day at a time, I'll get there. Just been offered one day a week school counselling in Reading starting in September. Only half an hour cycling from the flat and not a million miles from my swimming pool. It's all very exciting.

What a morning

By 10am I have had breakfast, got dressed, caught up on emails, written a blog post or two, done two loads of washing, hung two loads up to dry, put dry clothes away, done the dishes, got my tax spreadsheet and paperwork up to date and stripped the bed ready to wash the covers.

Almost time to put the third load of washing on. Then I'll go into town to do some last minute grocery shopping and get some final bits and bobs for my wedding outfit, before going off to do some counselling. Finally, I shall head home to pick up Siy's trousers from the dry cleaners, make 30 little boxes, wrap their contents and make dinner.

I'm hoping for an early night. What do we think are the chances of that?

Mixed feelings about my wedding

I dreamed of my aunt last night. I was lying in bed and I could hear her laughter and her voice floating up from the ground floor. As I slowly rose into consciousness I realised it was just a dream and I remembered that she was gone.

I am acutely aware that my wedding day is the first anniversary of her death and so I have very mixed feelings about this week. Amidst the usual wedding stress I have been experiencing little flashes of excitement, but also tears. I keep remembering the day she died, as I cycled home from work looking down on the lights of Reading. I had a phone message from my Mama telling me to call and I knew in my heart that she had died.

Now, as I sit here typing, I am full of grief and I wish so much that I could hear her voice again, catch her contagious laughter and listen to her dry Croatian humour. I wish she was still here, because I know how happy she would have been and how much she would have liked my man, had she ever had a chance to get to know him. The only thing that consoles me is that before she went I told her that he was the one for me and she smiled and told me this was good.

Thinking of her always.

Fairies' horses

I found out today that Croatian for 'dragonfly' is 'fairy's horse' and I am completely enchanted by this image.

Humour, or lack of

That was the first joke in weeks that I found funny. Stress can disable my sense of humour. My poor man.

I ask you all kindly, please be very, very nice to me this week and don't tell me any of your stresses.

"How are you?" this week, from me, requires you to think, very hard if necessary, of all the good things in your life. You can share those with me. That would make me happy.

Thank you for your attention. :-)

Counsellors and light bulbs

How many counsellors does it take to change a light bulb?

One, but the light bulb really needs to want to change.

Boom boom! :-)

Falling in love

I wrote this a while ago and thought it might be a good time to share it.

"Falling in love, I had always thought, was electric – a passionate frisson of fire, chemistry and jumping sparks, with a nervous uncertainty deep inside. Love, I thought, by definition, made one anxious and on edge, unable to think of anything or anyone else when alone, and totally absorbed in it and by it when with the object of this love. It had never occurred to me that it could be this gentle, natural sun‑warming. It had never occurred to me before that electricity was man-made and is a temporary means of creating a light that fills your world for a moment, sometimes blinding you to what’s behind it, like a spotlight or a torch shining in your eyes. It never occurred to me that it’s the sun that has always been – burning brighter without blinding, and for longer without ending – a source of light that not only lights the way, but that warms your skin and heart and that, when you turn your face up towards it, casts all shadows behind you."

Art installation

So I was in the ladies in the Tate Modern and I noticed this butterfly.

I stared a while, assuming he was an intricate installation, then I got curious and gently touched his antennae. They moved ever so slightly. Then I touched a foot and he hopped back a tiny bit. I couldn't work out if he was real or not, unsure how good art can be. Eventually, after noticing a wing was damaged quite badly, I decided that I didn't care if I'd got it wrong and he was make believe, I had to tell someone. I couldn't bear the idea of him dying in a toilet rather than free in nature or on a leaf. It turned out that he'd escaped from an installation and someone was sent in to retrieve him.

I felt relief that he was rescued, but now I can't help wondering if I did the right thing. Either way, I'm glad he didn't stay in the toilets and I'm glad I saw him and noticed the life in him.

Compliments

"Hi gorgeous," "sexy lady," even a wolf whistle, I can take and I can enjoy the compliment, but "whoarr, look at that" followed by a raspberry does not go down well and neither does it make you attractive in any way, shape or form.

Gentlemen, please refine your compliments.

Surprises

I like surprises.

Yesterday my lovely man's dulcet tones floated through the flat to inform me that a flashing package had arrived in the post. I thought he was joking, but he was indeed correct. An envelope was flashing red from the inside. So exciting!

It turned out to be a set of pink flower bicycle lights all the way from Norway, the coolest lights I've ever seen! The back one is on my seat post and the front on my handlebars. I love them - thank you my Norwegian happiness senders!

Pink flower front light, on handlebars next to bell

Do you ever stop and think?

Disclaimer: this is probably not relevant to anyone I know.

Those of you that gob on the floor, especially those that do it bang in the middle of the pavement...do you ever think about what might happen to your gob?

Do you ever imagine that it might very soon attach itself to the hem of a long dress and then wind itself around the dress owner's ankles, causing the dress owner to gag repeatedly as she becomes aware of what has been creating the cold wet sensation around her feet? Do you ever imagine that your gob will cause her to go home immediately and scrub her feet and legs in the shower, having put her dress straight into the washing machine.

Inadvertently, other than creating a traumatic incident for someone, you have also contributed to a waste of energy and electricity. I don't suppose you really care though, not about my feelings or about the environment, because if you did you wouldn't have gobbed in the middle of the pavement in the first place.

I am very cross. This is me ranting. Thank you for your kind attention.

Storm clouds

The storm brews and builds up and we fear the worst. Sometimes it passes over without us even noticing it has come and gone. Sometimes the storm does hit and it rages all around until we think we can't take any more, but eventually, with time, the storm always passes and the sun shines once more.

I love rain

I'm wondering if my last post was a curse on myself. The number of things I am dealing with are piled so high that my head is heavy and I find that my heart is becoming heavier each day. I get the irony of my feelings right now.

The sound of rain falling outside soothes me a little in the absence of the man that should be stroking my hair. I can't wait until he's home again.

On the upside, I have finally found something good in this endless rain. Its sound soothes a depressed heart and its touch cleanses the mind that is heavy with rubbish. For the first time this spring, I want the heavens to open up and pour down on my world.

The importance of maintaining a depressed stance

I saw this pinned to the noticeboard at the counselling service where I work and I was highly amused by it. It also struck me how true it is and how much we cling to old behaviours and are surprised when things don't change. Reminded me of a quote I used to have on my wall:

"If you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always got."

Driving theory test

I passed!!

I was very worried about it - not about the multiple choice section, because that bit was easy enough, though much harder than any of the mock tests I tried - no, it was the hazard perception bit that I was very anxious about.

I started revising/practising yesterday morning and my clever brain was able to retain enough of the theory to pass the multiple choice, although much of it is fairly obvious if you have a grain of common sense. I found the BSM book very helpful in revising for this and, obviously, the Official Highway Code. All very interesting.

Theory questions - obviously, you can't look inside unless you're on the Amazon website

I also used some theory test sites, the most helpful being Driving-Test-Success.Com. The most amusing question I found asked what you would say if one of your drunk friends asked if you would race them to the next set of traffic lights. The correct answer was "Nah, racing's for chavs." Highly amusing and clearly not aimed at intelligent (occasional) Guardian reading learner drivers in their mid 30s.

Anyway, my bug bear is with the hazard perception test. I know some people who have failed this repeatedly - all highly intelligent and verging on genius - and I couldn't understand why when so many less intelligent people are able to pass easily.

For those that cleverly took their test years ago and have no idea what this is, it is a series of video clips where you must click when you see a possible hazard and click whenever you see a sign that increases the risk of this possible hazard becoming an actual hazard. For example, click when you see a car coming from a side road. Click again if it looks like it won't stop and again when it pulls out in front of you. The earlier you identify a possible hazard, the higher the score you get.

All this is fine. My issue is that if you identify hazards that the test designers don't think are hazards, it deducts points and assumes you're cheating. I knew, from a whole day of practicing yesterday, that I have a tendency to notice more hazards than they want me to notice. I am not cheating and in my mind I still maintain that they were possible hazards, but I was penalised for clicking them.

This makes me cross. Perhaps I am too nervous about possible risks and need to chill out - a possibility that I will definitely consider - but I still felt that the test itself was a little unfair. If you could only sit with someone and explain why you clicked and what your thought process was, I feel this would be easier. You pay over £30 for the test and there were at least 10 other people in with me. Surely that is enough to warrant an actual person checking those items where someone seems to click a lot or is just below the pass rate. I understand that maybe there are issues with fairness if you did this, but I really don't think that the way it is done is fair on those who are more sensitive. Even the screen was too bright for me and made my eyes hurt, yet I was told off for adjusting it. Anyway, the best hazard perception practice test I found was one the AA site.

I am sighing. I know this is a long post, but I needed to vent. Vent done, I am deeply grateful that I scraped through and passed. There's no way I'd want to do that again!

Good luck to anyone else taking the theory test!

Zagreb

Came across a film today that shows the beauty of Zagreb. Goes on a bit (for me), but definitely highlights the things that my heart aches for. Zagreb is a truly beautiful place to be.

Seven minutes with music and speed of visuals that may not appeal to the older generation, but you can turn the volume down and try to enjoy the imagery!

Watch it here.

Head down

As I typed the title of this, it occurred to me that it might refer to the approach of birth time, but this is not the case and apologies to anyone who might be DYING for a new baby in their lives - I shall not be providing that particular service at this time.

No, on this occasion it refers to study time. I am busy learning all about the theory of driving and it's really very interesting! I am loving it. Most of it is common sense and really rather obvious, thankfully, but other stuff I knew nothing about!

"In wet conditions your car can aquaplane. This means the tyres have lifted off the surface of the road and are skating on the surface of the water. If your steering suddenly becomes very light, while driving on a wet road, this is a sign that your are aquaplaning. To correct it ease off the accelerator and allow the tyres to regain grip."   [With thanks to Driving Test Success]

I wonder if Jesus was aquaplaning when He walked on water. Perhaps He was accelerating so fast that He obtained lift off.

Anyway, it made me chuckle rather a lot. I must find a use for the word 'aquaplaning' in everyday language. It's a good one.


I am also studying codependency and addictions, about which I shall post more another day, when my thoughts have been collected and turned into words rather than fluffy bits of wool.

Love to you all and hope you're enjoying this rather fickle April weather more than I am!!

Ordering time

Twenty four minutes. Not bad. And then one minute to bring my tea with a big smile and a cheeky wink. Very impressive.

Jelly for brains

Sitting in the cafe in Highgate Woods, I just heard a small child tell his mother that our brains are softer than jelly. I have always imagined mine to be more like a walnut and the idea of it being as soft as jelly disconcerts me. I feel quite vulnerable now and am suddenly aware of how thin my skull really is in the big scheme of things.

I am also wondering how long it will take until the staff notice me and give me some tea. I don't mind being ignored today. It's quite nice actually, but I remain mildly curious and am experiencing an unexpected sort of satisfaction at being able to sit at this lovely table in this lovely cafe without having to order anything. I might even be cheeky in a bit and get my own drink out of my bag...

Life in the fast lane

Life has overtaken me somewhat and despite seemingly having a lot of free time, I have surprisingly little time to write or to think or to just be.

Everyone who needs to know, knows what's going on in my life; and those that don't know, probably don't need to know. Suffice to say, I feel as if I am juggling more balls than I can handle. I am making lists every day and working my way through each one. This makes me feel pretty good as I know I am achieving small things. I am clearing the site to make space for the big things.

As to the big things, they are all things that I have no control over, so I am forced to wait and be patient. Patience, patience. A difficult thing to have when so many things I want and am waiting for are held in the hands of others.

'erbal tea

I can now report back on the fantastically cheap tea strainer I bought in Norway. It miraculously happens to be the best herbal tea 'bag' I have ever used and I have already received requests for next time I am in Norway. A most excellent purchase.



PS Apologies for the photo - I can't work out how to 'turn' it... :-(

The little snail

As I was walking home today, into the sunshine that glowed a soft yellow at the end of my road, I noticed a tiny little snail crossing the pavement in front of me. His shell was coloured in pale yellow with black swirly stripes.

I thought about picking him up, to save him from someone else's footstep. I thought about putting him onto a leaf in someone's garden. I almost did.

Then I stopped. What if he had spent an hour crossing to the centre of the pavement? What if he had a purpose and was trying to get somewhere? By 'helping him' I would set him back significantly from reaching his goal. I know it's possibly a silly thought - he's only a little snail - but it made me think about myself. I, like the snail, am in a risky place in my life in terms of career and finances, but despite this, I am where I want to be. I need to be in a risky place in order to reach the place I have always dreamed of getting to.

So this also made me think of others and how impossible it is to judge someone else's progress or to make decisions for them about where they ought to be. We can't always see the whole of someone else's journey - where they've come from or how long it has taken to get where they are. We don't know how far they are from achieving their goal. Because of all this, yes it's still important to help others, but it's vital that we don't force our help onto others. We can notice and we can offer, but we must never, ever force our help. By trying to 'help' someone else, we may, in fact, be taking them further away from where they need to be.

Just something to think about.

More photos from Pen y Fan

Me and Siy atop a little hill

Random plants

Glass installation

Pen y Fan, South Wales, UK.

It looked like a glass installation, but in reality it was a fine layer of ice covering everything all around us. Absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. I'll share some pics now with you. :-)

Blade of grass

Ninki in front of grass

More beautiful blades of grass

Tree 'installation'

A generally awesome view from the top of Pen y Fan