ITS ALL CHANGE AT VIEW FROM THE BRIDGE

HELLO EVERYONE!

In the heart of a wonderful organic, sustainably inclined supermarket, 14 of us sit at a long table, frozen, with our coats on, listening to a fantastic talk about Bees. Why the coats? Its freezing. The heating is broken and cannot be fixed because it's May (?!)! We should be on the roof garden, in the lovely sunshine!

In the heart of this supermarket, there is a terrible blue light and a deep sadness. I've never sat in a supermarket for a day (obviously, it would be weird if I did that regularly). People's faces are so flat, grim or sad. They've given us a wonderful wooden table with bright wild flowers brimming with yellow energy. The scene shimmers with excitement.

Their gaze glides over us. They hurry along, pushing their trolleys, their pushchairs or talking into the emptiness of their mobile telephones. A couple stop and listen for a bit but then drift on. No one asks what is going on... Can they even see us?

It gets colder and colder (health and safety/chilling cabinets) and then I hear that name, again and again, Bayer, Baya, Bayer, Baya...not in a good way... a bad name, bad energy, Bayer and Bees, Bees and Baya, sounds the same. Its like the supermarket, cold and empty like the eyes of the customers, it is not my name anymore.

This is why its all change at Home Made....same captain but different perspective, different view from the bridge of my ship!

Will we ever bask in the sun on the roof?

Being there felt like a true political statement but it did "count" if hardly anyone noticed? And the supermarket is fab and very "green" and welcoming. Did our presence change anything?

It seemed to get slightly warmer in the afternoon...I even unzipped my coat!

"I DON'T SEPARATE HOPE FROM MY ACTIONS" VANDANA SHIVA AND SATISH KHUMAR

BRUNCH WITH VANDANA SHIVA AND SATISH KUMAR!

It's Saturday, I am in London, better than that, I am in some posh organic restaurant in Notting Hill  and I am having brunch with two of the greatest activists in the world of permaculture/sustainability etc etc.

The theme is Seeds. Vandana and her team have just published their latest book called "Seeds Freedom" and its available to read on line at navdadia.org.  Here is the link: http://www.navdanya.org/attachments/Seed%20Freedom_Revised_8-10-2012.pdf.

It has a very illuminating chapter on Europe and its policies on seeds and it's rather scary and complicated.

If you want to know more about what these two think, please go and get their books from the library! I recommend Earth Democracy: Justice, Sustainability and Peace from Vandana and my favourite book by Satish is You are Therefore I am: A Declaration of Dependence.
 

So I am not here to scare you because the News can do that quite easily.

I am here to give you some ideas of what you can do!

Hope has got to be at the base of all our actions - see title of today's effort.  How do we do this?

Here is how:

Only use seeds that either you have saved or you have bought from an independent seeds company. In the UK The Real Seeds Company is deemed to be sound. I have no information about the others but there was talk at the brunch that most seed companies in the world are now owned by the seeds and GM Food cartels...

O dear, I did say I was not going to scare you! Back to hope.

Learn how to collect seeds at the end of the growing season! I will be posting a tutorial on this in August with illustrations etc. Its much simpler than it sounds and there is no need to do a course on it. You will need loads of paper bags so start collecting now!

For now, if you want to have a go, look into your potato bags and see whether you have any that have start germinating. If you do, plonk them upright in the bottom of an egg box and leave them on a window sill in an unheated room (preferably but it works in the spare room too!). When the sprouting bit is about 2.5cm tall, plant them! I know that we get told that we have to buy new potato seeds every year because otherwise they will become "diseased". I am assured by Vandana (who knows what she is talking about) that is is not true.

Next year's potatoes chitting on the window sill!

Close up... not ready yet but give it another month....

Get together with your friends and start collecting and swapping seeds! Meet up for brunch (copycats!) or whatever and start doing it. It is not complicated, costs nothing and by saving your seeds and sharing them you will save yourself some money, get a bit of fun and also help break the monopoly of the big manufacturers of GM Food and seeds.

If you collect your seeds and use them year upon year, selecting the strongest plants (as I said, tutorial to follow), Vandana says that they will produce better vegetables, adapted to your soil and your garden. Amazing but rather logical, don't you think?

And finally, instead of believing that you need the prayer "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change...", start saying "God grant me the ability to change the things I cannot accept" (This is the current slogan of native canadian tribes who have had enough) and get a move on!

Don't feel powerless, it disempower you!

There is plenty that we can do to make a difference and I suggest you start right now!

In hope and with love,

Baya

SEVEN NIGHTS WITH SEVEN MEN...

That got your attention, didn't it!

Let me explain.

Two months ago a male friend invited me to go to the north of Scotland and share a house. Cheap as chips, love Scotland. I signed up!

Then it transpired that I'd have to share the house with 7 men. Was I phased, distressed? Not really. I wanted to go to Scotland! However my female friends and beloved frowned and predicted disaster. What would I do with seven men?

I'll tell you what I did! It was absolute bliss. Nobody asked me for an entire week HOW I WAS or indeed WHY I was doing anything. If I said no to anything the answer would generally be OK!

I went in and out, long walks on my own, lovely meals together in the evenings. I felt free and so incredibly relaxed.

I got to thinking about men and women (as you do) and their difficulties. This is what I came up with. Simplistic for sure (but then I'd think that....I am a woman and I like to complicate and analyse things) but interesting (I hope).


When I said that I did not understand the verbal instructions about the central heating, John instead of settling down for a long mull on what the instructions might or might not have been, got up and went to ask again! What a disappointment. I was really looking forward to spending a couple of hours speculating...and freezing in the process. Then I could have complained bitterly about the cold!

Lesson one : Men generally do not like to complicate things. If they do not understand something they tend to say so. Women love to complicate things just for the fun of it and will discuss endlessly what it was that somebody meant without even thinking of asking for clarification.

When I said to Rob, no I don't want to go for a walk with you. He said O OK. I was speechless, I had prepared this long rambling explanation about the why and he had just walked away from me. I felt cheated and abandoned, hurt and upset...actually I did not, what I felt was relieved because I did not have to go for a walk with anyone!

Lesson two : Men do not need to ask why and accept your answer as face value. Which drives women mad because they love the word WHY and its many ramifications. Also very often Women's answers are not straightforward and do require a why because what they really want is a bit of a chat or a way to complicate things which is what makes life so interesting!

When Alan said Lets sort this mess out looking at the sitting room, six men got up from wherever they were and stated sorting it all out. It had been a tip and in a few minutes all was spick and span. There had been no complaining about the mess, no sighing, no feeling put upon, no discussion about how and who would do what (and of course the why of everything).

Lesson three: Men are strangely organised in a completely disorganised way. Women are obsessed about order and need things to be done at a certain time in a particular order. Men tend to get on with things when they need doing. Women do things because they should or they think they should.

When Peter said could he have a lift to the station because he had to go back to Edinburgh, there was family trouble, David said I'll take you mate. Peter suggested 6.30am and David laughted. No, mate, make it more like 7.30. Peter said OK. Nobody asked how and why. I was itching to get the back story to this. I wanted to know how Peter felt and offer a lovely hug. David took Peter to the station. A while later Peter texted to say he'd arrived safely. Period. Aarrrrgglll.

Lesson four: Men talk about feelings in a completely different way to women. They don't chat about feelings, they tend to deal with them quietly. They do however know how to ask for help but the help required is often of a practical nature and they do not want to "talk about it". Women  need to share their feelings so that they can work out what those are and like to deal with them in company. They expect men to be part of the company. Men find the whole thing boring and irritating. Women then feel unloved and ignored.

and finally Lesson Five: spend a week with blokes and you might become one of them! But not quite. You'll be relieved to know that as soon as I got home the first question my lovely partner asked was "How are you feeling?"....man or woman?

Tis all for now.

With love

Baya

WHAT IS IT ABOUT THAT ROAD LESS TRAVELLED?

I was standing on the bridge over the River Spey. As you can see, it branches into two tributaries.

I looked left first and there is this lovely bit of river, smooth and calm, easily navigable, leading to promising lands (or so it feels).

Then I looked right to the narrow bit of the river, meandering and dangerous and thought, if I was in a canoe, this is where I should go. It would be much more interesting, really.

I had to wrench my gaze from the left tributary. It looked so peaceful and simple.

Joseph Campbell said Take the Road Less Travelled.

Then I thought again. Why would I want to paddle my canoe down that narrow, unpleasant looking arm of the river?

Because Joseph Campbell said...blah blah blah

And I thought some more (I am doing a lot of thinking up here in the snow and the ice, with the mountains looking on).

How many times in my life have I taken that Road Less Travelled and what happened?

I got on the wrong course and persevered head long into disaster. I stayed in a dead marriage for years. I tried to make things work out that were unworkable. I bought into Suffering is Good for You, it will make you stronger. I believed that "Wherever you go, there you are".

And yet, had I chosen the Road More Travelled...

I looked at the left hand side, smooth as silk, majestic and attractive.

The Road Less Travelled, dear friends, is full of brambles, dangerous and tricky. It demands so much efforts to follow it that frankly, I can no longer see the point of it. Imagine crossing the Sahara on foot instead of hiring a good couple of camels, a guide or ten or even better using a four by four. Why on earth would anyone want to do that?

The Road More Travelled, on the other hand, has many safe havens on it. People have been here before you. They have set up resting places.The brambles have been cut back. The grass is lush, easy to walk on. You might even meet others there who can teach you a few things.

Whereas on the other road, you will only meet haggard figures grimly trying to enjoy the agony. Do you think they will give you a helping hand?

I am off onto the Road More Travelled easier, better sign posted.

I wonder where it will lead me!

With love

Baya

Are New Year's Resolutions necessary Delusions?

31st December in conversation with friend. She says "Next year I am starting my healing business, I've got it all planned."

She has told me this every year for the past twenty years. No healing business, nothing, nada, not a sausage.

Got me thinking.

24th December, my son buys me a selection of  books on writing. Disappointingly Stephen King's "On Writing" recommends writing as the best way of writing.

Got me thinking.

1st January in conversation with self: "This year, I will write that book about the Clearances, watch me". I have said this for five years. No book, nothing, nada, not a sausage.

Got me thinking.

Do I want my dying words to be "I wish I had written that book"? 

Is the desire to write the book better than the writing of it? If I were to write the book, would my life then be empty of meaning? Sounds too Freudian to me!

What stops me from writing. I need the right laptop.  If only I had the right space, the correct desk, the perfect book, the ideal course. Needs that deny my need to write.

Because, don't get me wrong, I am desperate to write. I love writing, I do it in my head all the time. I have always been a writer.

What would you say to a potter who would dream a pot and never use clay? Is a dream pot as good as a real one? As fulfilling? Does it hold water?

Would someone who dreamt clothes and walked around naked be acceptable? 

No, that's not it. I am not naked. I have draped myself in my desire. If I wrote the book I'd have to unwrap myself and stand naked in front of the world. That's not right either. I would be naked.

The unfulfilled desire protects me. 

How much energy do I spend not writing? As much energy as my friend spends not creating her healing centre and may be, as much energy as you spend not (fill in the blanks).

I'll not spend another year with the desire being better than the action. That's not right. It's like wanting to have an orgasm, getting close to it  and yet never daring to. Its horrible!



HAPPY NEW YEAR!

DECEMBER 2012

Monday

If I open the curtains and its raining again…I am not going! No really, I refuse to be drenched to the skin again and carry wet straw into wet pens to fight the battle of keeping the wet pigs less wet than they already are. Everything takes twice as long as it should and everything is twice as heavy as waterlogged. Nobody said anything about endless rain. This time last year I was wingeing about the drought and how we should move out of East Anglia because it was too dry. The Gods are having a laugh. Of course, I go!

Tuesday

Not only did I get drenched to the skin twice yesterday but I fell over and hurt my hip and my pride…truly mostly my pride. I am not as fit and strong as I think I am or wish that I am or delude myself that I am. Cross with myself, the world, the Gods and of course the sodding (literally) rain!

Wednesday

Today is killing the turkeys day. People are milling about and the shed is empty of all the machinery. Five ropes hang there waiting. Execution day… Do you have any idea how difficult it is to kill a turkey? Two grown men with sweat pouring down their face, that’s how hard it is. I would love to be more turkey like when I face death. They don’t struggle or shout, rant and rave. They just hang there without a complaint. At least, we can let Flo roam the farm again. I missed her so much!

Thursday

Plucking fifty turkeys cuts your hands in some many little places and makes your fingers ache a lot. I wonder if people know how much work there is in their Christmas feast. Of course they don’t. Would they eat the turkeys if they knew? Would it make it better or worse? Our turkeys wondered around the farm and once they had told us about Flo and her harassing ways, had a generally good time. Mooched around a lot, ate a lot of whatever they could find, worms as well as corn and all, liked people and pigs and the farmer’s wife pansies (the pests) and nibbled as cabbage leaves. Short but sweet. Flo is happy if somewhat filthy. My back hurts

Friday

Winter Solstice and end of the world planned for today. Felt ridiculously scared. Nothing happened. The internet says that its because it happened on a very subtle level and that the people of the planet Zorg have changed my DNA…don’t want my DNA changed, really like my DNA. Internet says its because my Ego is too strong and I need to get rid of it. Like my Ego, A LOT…do pigs have an Ego? Turkeys might have had but they are all dead now so I cannot ask them…

Saturday

The dawn chorus has started again. I swear the birds know that the season has turned and are celebrating the return of the sun. And the hens have started laying again, just like that. They know! Spring is on its way…there are floods everywhere, it has not stopped raining for a week now. May be the end of the world has taken place when I was not looking. Pigs muddy, boots muddy, waterproofs muddy. Question uppermost in my mind…how do I clean the waterproofs and is it safe to put them in the washing machine…wish I was a pig and could walk around naked…actually no, I don’t! Flo and Fudge do not care…they having a wonderful time dancing around!

Sunday

I wish I did not like it so much, this pig girling thing…then I would not be exhausted, scared and wet a lot of the time (and I don’t even do it full time). It would be nice to wake up and the sun is shining. Wonder if we have indeed entered the Third Age (whatever that is) and that means we will be muddy for ever? Wonder what it must be like to be alive for just a few months for the purpose of being eaten at Christmas. Wonder if it would be better if I did not have so many thoughts in my head. Best get on with the milling then! Its been so wet that all the corn is damp which means we cannot use the trailer which means everything has to be done by hand, bucket by bucket! Powerful thighs guaranteed! Flo, Fudge, the pigs and me say…. Happy Christmas hope you enjoy the turkeys!

WELL... I NEVER...

Yesterday at around 3.30pm, the electricity went off...for 20 hours, that gave us a taste of things to come and I realised why I have been behaving so strangely for the past couple of years.

 Well strangely for the average english house dweller. Every day I clean the woodburner, stack wood inside the house, make sure there is wood outside that is dry and I can easily get to. I also put all the solar lamps to charge even if there is no sun.

 Back to yesterday. Lights off, heating off, cooker off...o dear..

The woodburner was on, kettle simmering on top. Just had to add my old Le Creuset cast iron pot with vegs in it to cook the stew and put some potatoes in the fire for later.

As the night drew in we realised the street lamps were off too and most of our part of the village was dark. Switched solar lamps on, one at a time and snuggled up.

Fed the fire, ate, drank tea, read, listened to our wind up radio...

Felt like a rehearsal. Actually was a rehearsal.

Did not know we use so much hot water, will have to see to that and get a bigger kettle. And all these hours in the darkness (comparatively) were strange on the psychy...we went to bed early

We were woken up in the night by men digging our road up trying to trace the fault and got power back this morning.

I have been so often told that I exagerate, I am a conspiracy theorist, I am too extreme...well last night, I was proven right and this morning I feel...well proud, I guess and a bit smug...o all right...a lot smug!

Whatever, whenever, we are ready for it!

PS. We lost internet too...this needs working on.

PPS. no photos...dark...