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...

Money is Evil or how did I get myself in that mess....

Hey, I'm back, did not realise I had not written for two years but there it is and I am back. Today's great revelation is about money and I want to thank my friend Chris for his conversation this afternoon that made me work it all out.

I have been helping out on a farm for more than a year now and loved every minute of it. I did not get "paid" in cash but got plenty of meat and vegetables from the farm shop. The relationship with the farmer was easy going and on the basis of "Baya, you are helping us out, you do what you can and if it does not feel right or its too much for you, then don't do it". It worked very well for a whole year.

But of course, in my head the money matter was growing...people were saying, how are you getting paid, how much doe they pay you...and little by little I became convinced that I had to extract some hard cash from the farmer.

Eventually, he agreed to pay for my petrol. Victory, I thought and felt all valued and declared I now "worked" there.

Only....

Last week, suddenly, I was threatened with "the sack". I did something wrong and was told it was a "sackable offence"...may be they were joking but actually, there was a lot of shouting involved. I could not work it out and was very upset. What had happened to my lovely relationship with the farmer. Why was I told that I could not take this or that vegetable because they were too expensive, why was I expected to work harder, longer. Why did I start feeling anxious about going there to "work".

And then, suddenly, during that conversation with Chris, it became clear...money had entered the arena and changed everything! It did not matter what the amount was, what happened is suddenly they "owned" me. Unconsciously, I became an "employee" thus sackable, thus exploitable, thus expendable. My labour there was based on an exchange of gifts, now its based on cash and everything had changed.

Can I retrieve this situation by saying I don't want money anymore? Will we ever go back to the easy earlier relationship, either that or I shall leave because, guess what. I am getting "paid" but I no longer enjoy myself there. I am under an obligation and the worse of it is that I created it, I wanted cash, to be valued enough to be given crisp pound notes without of course realising that my value diminished as soon as money was involved.

Money is evil, I tell you!

SELF SUFFICIENCY

Baya happy  in the summer

Been having a rather though time in the past few weeks. Beavering away knitting my fingers to the bone. Tea cosies, mittens, flowers...work work work work. Stuff to sell. Stuff to make and stuff to sell. Stuff..

Then I sat down for the Samhain ritual, last Sunday and asked for a vision from the fire (as you do if you are that way inclined - if you are not, just think that I was meditating - oops that probably sounds dismissive but I mean it. Gazing into the fire, looking for a vision from the ancestors is a bit like meditating). The fire was good and strong and this ancestor came along and said : "Self-sufficiency is also about being sufficient to oneself".

It hit me there and then between my brows. I have been (once again, bitten by lady consumerism) dizzying myself instead of being self sufficient. Busy busy busy busy. How can I possibly be stressed and busy when the stress of  WORK has been removed (blessed be she who has removed it) from my life.

But you see, I HAVE BEEN PRETENDING TO WORK! Like a slave, I have knitted, dug, whatevered myself into a frenzy. Anything to not accept that I am no longer working, there is no need to be stressed, worried about money, etc. etc.

So as we enter the descent into the winter of the land, here is what I am going to do. I am going to go for Self Sufficiency and be sufficient to myself. How, I am not sure. It will start however with me stopping to pretend that I am working and that I am really really busy.

So if you hear me say those things, please tell me and I'll stop (if it was that simple). Do you fancy having a go yourself?

Happy descent....

MIND YOUR ONIONS....

This is simply too beautiful so I had to show it to you...it has nothing to do with my onions story but made my heart sing. It was taken on the 10th 10 10 at 10 past...13 hours (sorry, did not/could not carry on the 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 etc. theme).

This whole 10 10 etc. thing was really amazing because whoever decided it was an important and auspicious date (be it angels, guides or some clever person) was quite right. It turns out that if you decide whatever date is an auspicious one then it becomes auspicious. Spent the day with my Satsang friends going "lovely" this and "lovely" that for no apparent reason but the fact that a) the sun was shining and b) I had been told it was going to be a lovely day being the etc. etc. etc...

So I suggest that we all decide that random days/hours/minutes are going to be lovely and it is garanteed to make them lovely, for sure!

As to the onions...went to my local farm equipment shop to get my early onions set. I plant onions and garlic around my vegetable beds in the autumn and believe that it protects them from pests...funnilly enough, the pests seem to believe it too which means that my crops are usually not eaten by snails and sluggs although my lovely neighbour suggested the first year that was because they "had not found me yet", a lovely image of gossiping sluggs knitting in a corner of the field behind us saying "have you heard that French woman at number 75 has planted her beans" came to my mind then and has never quite left it...

Sorry, keep wondering off the point, back to the onions...as I was walking into the shop, I spotted a huge bag of grown up onions for sale at £3.50. Now my onion set was going to cost me £1.70 for 70 baby onions and I could have a whole lot more for £3.50 with no back breaking work, no tilling, weeding, digging. And I did wonder then, dear reader, why I bother, I did, I really did and nearly bought the grown up onions when I remembered that its not about money, its about love! Its about ritual. In October/November I plant my onions and garlics and then they grow and in the spring they get the sluggs off my plot and then I harvest them and they taste nice and they give me good energy and vibes because, I love my land, I dig it on my knees with all my heart and I can taste it!

There they are, my little baby onions, aren't they cute

I HAVE NOTHING TO SHOW YOU OR IS IT TIME FOR THE ST. JOHN'S WART YET...

Sorry, people but there are not going to be any jolly old photos of an artistic nature today in the blog cause, I am bored with trying to be artistic.

Its funny writing a blog. Its fun to start with and then I got all into pictures and being clever and then after last week's...well I want to get back to basics.

So here are my meanderings for the week...

I feel like its February and have been looking longingly at my stock of St. John's Wort thinking may be I could just start on it a bit early. That was untill I pulled myself severely together and realised that Feb is in...o my Goddess, in 5 months time....so there is no way no way at all we can break into the St.J.W.

But what to do when it is so damp and grey and feels like the Grizzle (drizzle, grrrrr) will never stop. Cannot garden as all damp and looking like the Somme in 1917, no healthy walk to forrage as ditto and bored with knitting shawls that I have to unknit because I cannot count properly.

There is always the Parish Council tonight, I hear you cry on the sidelines...zzzzzzzz

Ok, so no pictures, no St.J.W., lack of Shawl patterns for idiots and have spent the afternoon battling with Direct Debits (DD, the sneeky brigade).

The Beloved wailed as she was doing the accounts that some DDD (Dastardly DD'ers) had put their prices up by 50% for no apparent reason so I got onto my high horse and grabbed the phone (thereby running a huge bill with Cable, those other fiends) and got them all....reduced...some of them substantially ie from £15 a month to £5.00....how does that work then? Apparently they have "leway" said one of the nice people that cut my costs down...

Oh that has cheered me up! I could not break the nice Virging Media girl from India though...she just could not bring our costs down and suggested may be we should stop using the telephone. Which was a fair point since Skyping does not cost a penny...then I contacted BT who are cheaper but the Beloved in turn sobbed and said she could not live without the Virgin Play back thingy so...we are staying put.

On the plus sign, Bedfordshire Libraries (Goddess blessings to them, they are the best) do have a copy of the book on how to live without money in stock and WILL lend it to me for £1.00 and they WILL think about ordering a book that Kestrel recommended on Stoneage skills for today people...so I love them.

I am glad I did not do pictures today because writing all this down has made me put my St.J.W. away in its little February cocoon and realise that it might be grey outside but today has been a GREAT DAY...I have battled with the DD and won some over and I have talked to Kestrel about our weird and wonderful lifestyle( I love the connection and the feeling of not being alone).

Thanks for listening... I am all perked up and smily (but no photo of that either)...life is great and I can may be not beat the system but certainly annoy it and nibble at it!

Good luck with your battles, struggles, whatever they are and do put away the St.J.W. I swear, the sun has just come out for one second and the sky is clearing in front of my eyes, the cats are dancing around the garden and a cup of tea has just materialised by my side (thanks Beloved)...SMILE

THE LAST LESSON....

Marseille Callelongue Calanque Monday 20th September

Went to France last week-end for my mum's 82nd birthday. She has got cancer, its very serious, secondaries and all so was expecting...well was expecting to have it my way...isn't that choking. I was actually wanting my dying mother to have the sort of 82nd birthday that I wanted for her. I can see it now but at the time, I was full of giving her the best time ever, sitting together hugging and telling each other how much we love each other and any number of other strange notions.

Only you see, in my family we do not do things like that, ever, EVER, EVER.... even when mum is dying and its probably her last birthday.

And why o why should we start now? Because, I want to? What right do I have to impose upon someone my ideas about how she should or should not do something?

But see, its too hard...too hard for whom? Too hard for ME... excuse me, says a voice in my head, you could please, ahem, remind me...who is it that's doing the dying here? And who is having a hard time? ME? Pardon, what?

Ok, point taken...so I have to let this happen and be there but watching at a respectful distance. Doing it her way. Because, that's probably her last gift to me, the last gift a parent can give a child...teaching them to accept that they know best how to die.

As I look out of the window, with the rain, practically horizontal, and the north wind blowing a gale, the hum of the central eating, my old friend, in the back groud, I also watch as the year slowly dies and remind myself that I can no more influence that than I can influence my mother's choices.

Last week, I wrote of midpoints, this week, I am watching, not being centre stage and not making it all about me. Strange feeling that. And yet, watching is amazing. Look at her photo, I managed to take it when she was not looking at me...looking at the beautiful rock face above. There she is, my mum, dying her way, as I watch...

MIDPOINT OR THE END OF THE SUMMER?

Autumn light...the end?

I have been thinking...yes, I know, dangerous thing to do, thinking...my heart was heavy you see, when I took that picture, I saw the autumn light and felt the cold winds of winter howling somewhere, ready to pounce and the cold and the damp and the land looking dark and forbidding...and I thought, its the end, the end of summer...

Then I looked on my left. Well you cannot see what is on my left when I write and I did try to take a photo but it did not come out. Its an old yellow bit of A4 paper, three years old or thereabouts that my son drew for me. On it is the plan of a classic script and in this plan...there is no ending. On the edge of the plage, there are the following words : Climax and Rebirth.

And there we are, really at Midpoint. Midpoint between the two solstices, bang around the Autumn Equinox, the point of balance before it all tips down into the second half, not the ending, you see, no, just the second half.

So what if, there were no endings at all, just Climax followed by Rebirth. Therefore there would be no death as such. A beautiful Climax of life, like the one the land is going through at the moment with all the gorgeous berries rioting, the last calendulas, the red tomatoes. Have you noticed, its all red out there, blazing it is! Climax and then, of course, Rebirth.

What a way to think of life...there is no end to summer just a magnificent climax and immediately after that, its starting to be Spring again. It might take time for us to see that but already, as I have said in a previous post, the new growths have arrived. I have tidied up the herbs garden and cut the tarragon down and underneath the long leggy bits, the new baby leaves are already there...

So, I am leaving you with this photo, the great blast Climax of my harvest and from the Midpoint of the year, the beautiful Autum Equinox, I stand and contemplate how I am going to allow everything to Rebirth. O Dear, that would mean me too - Rebirth without constantly checking whether its happening, trusting the process of it, letting it build up, enjoying the slow, gentle, tender, special growing of my very tiny leaves. Having the patience to allow this to happen. No interference. Watching tenderly...till they are ready to unfurl...o around the Spring Equinox...that would be the next Midpoint then, jumping from Midpoint to Midpoint, light of feet and heart. Think about it, its wonderful!

HEARD ON THE RADIO....IT MUST BE TRUE...

ROSEHIPS AND GINGER SYRUP INFUSING IN THE SUN...

Had a bit of a down day on Saturday and Sunday was a bit subdued too...was wondering why and after much pondering realised that I have been listening to the radio and watching the News every night as well. Last week was both the 70th anniversary of the Blitz and the 9th of September 11th. So many programmes dedicated to both events and what with the SPENDING CUTSSSSSS.... screaming at us from all sides, I got myself truly dysphoric, in fact down right unhappy but in that sort of vague blah way that does not allow you to do anything but just feel blah...

But this morning, I heard it on the radio, it must be true....HAPPINESS STARTS WHEN YOU EARN £50,000 A YEAR.

That's it, Radio 3 it is from now on! Although Radio 3 always decides to play some obscure contemporary music when I switch it on, just to annoy me, instead of playing some uplifting Mozart or something. But seriously, I will not listen to this drivel anymore. I like to keep in touch with what's going on in the world, don't get me wrong but, I am officially declaring a boycott of all TV and radio News for a while (well till I get seduced again).

In my lovely fantasy world, we, of course, do not have a television and watch endless repeats of Escape to the Country (my secret vice). No, we sit listening to Mozart, in front of a roaring fire, knitting by candle light and making clever conversation. As it is of course, we watch any amount of rubbish (the knitting and the roaring fire do take place).

I dug the blah out with my spade as well as my potatoes, currently being rinsed on the garden's table by the lovely soft rain and also burnt away all my dysphoria in the back back garden (I am not going to explain the garden to you, if you have been paying attention, you know what the back back garden, also know as the farm yard, is)  along with all the dried up bits that needed burning!

£50 000 a year indeed! The Beloved and I used to earn that sort of money when we both worked for the NHS and we cannot for the life of us remember what we used to do with it...pay other people to do what we do now probably, ah yes, she said, go on holiday and have meals out!

Yes, but....have you seen the Rosehips and |Ginger Syrup, glowing in the sunshine! Have you, Have you!!!! I will drink it and as I drink it will feel the wonderful summer we have just had go into my veins and bannish Blah for ever! I will, I promise you that it will work!

WILD PEARS, POTATOES, BUTTERNUT SQUASH, WILD PLUMS...FORRAGING

The first outing of the Tea Cosies...

Dont' I look proud at my first craft fair...I tell you I am so happy I could burst, which would, lets face it make a bit of a mess...|In case you wish to know, it went well...in unexpected ways and people really liked my stuff and I learnt loads and it was such fun! What I will remember is that people want to learn "how to" nowadays. They do not wish to buy stuff much but are really keen to learn stuff so I'll be organising little workshopettes to teach the skills I am learning by the way I live, the endless gifts I am given.

Its gleaning time, dear friends and the harvest is amazing. Around where I live, after all has been harvested, the farmers don't mind (I have checked) if you go in the fields and help yourself to what is left behind by the machines. My lovely farmer friend Garry says that it all gets ploughed back in anyway so might as well help myself!

And I do...potatoes at the moment, all different shapes, the ones that Mr. Mark & SainsTesAsco does not want because they are not pretty enough or whatever... they end up in my lovely bag and then in my cooking pot. Its good for the muscle tone as well, no need to go to the gym when you can walk around the land collecting kilos of fruits and vegetables and then carry them home. In my world, it is not cricket (O how English I have become) to use the car to go gleaning or indeed wooding, it has got to be done by foot and hand.

And the land at the moment is just amazing. The harvest is in, the wheat is cut down and they have started ploughing. The black earth is being churned for the winter tide and smells beautiful. I had my nose in it this morning and it was warm and delicious. The season is turning. And I want to dance with gratitude. There is so much...so much to harvest!

So much work to pot everything and transform it into delicious "butters" and "cheeses". That is the thing. To collect, gather, make takes patience and time. Its like a prayer really. Slowly picking the sloes, patiently gathering the damsons. Squinting in the sunshine to see the berries. I believe berries hide in the first instance and then when they realise you will only take what you need and not more and leave some for the birds then they de-cloak and there are hundreds of them.

I love "seeing" things I did not even know existed when I moved to the country three years ago. I went for a forage with a friend this morning and was able to point out hazels, brambles, wild apples, crab apples, damsons, within minutes. Where once, I was only seeing a mass of green, I can now see, see all the nuts, the berries, because I have learnt to look. Not look for, not look because, no...just look and then suddenly I see!

May you get to "see" what needs to be seen to make your week a happy one! Oh and there was a skylark too!

THE KINDNESS OF STRANGERS (CRAFTMAKERS)

The Lovely Claire....

This could be the new business card...what do you think?

That was after Wednesday night at the WiRE meeting (Women in Rural Enterprise). So enthousiastic about our ideas! So positive and interested! Made me feel that yes, we could do it! Spent most of Thursday playing with Mr. Vistaprint and came up with the above.

Then I had this email from BayTree Cottage inviting me to have a stand at their open day next Saturday. To sell the teacosies! Imagine, I am so excited, it feels like the bigest gift and may be I'll sell a few and then I'll be so thrilled!

And this week-end was the great Wrest Park Craft Show near where I live and it again, was amazing!

All these artisans I talked to who patiently explained stuff to me, encouraged me, told me to email them if I needed help and generally were the most generous people in the whole world. I have no money so was not buying much. I was spotted as a "Maker" (by the way isn't it a wonderful job to have...what do you do...I am a Maker...sounds just grand doesn't it), anyway that was  a possible rival you would think but no, oh no...the sharing, the offers, the friendship were amazing.

 I want to mention the  lovely Claire Louise who makes amazing felt bags. Here is her website if you are interested www.clairefairall.co.uk. It is not everyday that you can discuss the joys of Bamboo knitting needles with a total stranger and get excited by their excellence! Also, she has an Etsy Shop. In case you don't know, Etsy is the big forum website on which "Makers" sell their stuff. I registered with them months ago but have never managed to get the courage to open my shop. She was so amazingly encouraging and said I must do it, what could she do to help, etc. etc.... so thanks Lovely Claire and I'll take you up on your offer!

This has made me muse (as I am usually doing of a Sunday evening) on what the world would be like if everybody was as generous and friendly as that, how people could share skills and information freely, without feeling threatened, how we could all be "Makers" and make together, weave and spin a better world. I wonder if this happens when you work with your hands.

Working with your hands is so different from other workings. I have learnt over the months not to blame the flour/the yeast for not causing my bread to rise, not to complain to the wool for the shape of a garnment to be all wrong. I have learnt to accept that sometimes...it just does not turn out right. There are no rhymes nor reasons to it, it just does not happen. The bread does not rise, the tomatoes do no ripen or there is too much/not enough water. Whom to blame... there is no one to blame when you are a Maker. You need to be true to yourself and get on.  If something goes wrong you just have to unmake it and start again.

And there will be dragons....

Apple Tree Pruning Musings

TRADING, HECATES AND AUGUST WEATHER with chard, in the wrong place...

his is in the wrong place...I thought I had sorted out this photo thing but I have not...look below. does my head in!

Hecate, Goddess of the crossroads

I met her last night, in a pathworking and learnt about turning the pages of the book of my life and then endlessly looking back at them, just to make sure. Sure of what? Ah the safety of looking behind. Looking behind stops me from going forward. Its garanteed to work. I might be miserable looking backwards, what with all those childhood traumas, endless miseries, etc. but at least I know when and where I am. Imagine me, following the road that She lights, walking ahead with her dogs by my side. Brrr, but what if, what it I just did that. Turned that page in the book of my life and LEFT IT TURNED. No peeking, no lifting a corner of the page just to check. No no no. Walking forward, lit by her torch, there at the crossroad with both my hands on the neck of the beautiful greyhound dogs she gifted me. I am going to have a go at this... it feels so good, peaceful and right.

TALKING ABOUT NEW ROADS....

LOST AS SEA...PRESUMED DROWNED...FORGOT THE BIT ABOUT THE NINE LIVES...

THE BOY!

Its been an interesting and rather embarrassing few days!

I pride myself in being a very realistic sort of person who does like our animals but in moderation and sort of accepts that they are animals and not people and try to not get attached.

Well, Saturday night, Merlin, The Boy Cat, well ok...my boy cat, my very own, beloved (there I've said it and the image of fair but rather detached person is forever shattered) cat did not come home.

Did not come home on Sunday either!

(I should have known I was in danger of emotional meltdown when, the previous week, The Beloved had calmly remarked that it might be a bit too much to tenderly cover the aforementioned cat's ears when there was gun noises on the television)

Anyway, no Merlin and I sobbed, no really, great big fat sobs. In the privacy of the back back garden obviously. I was not going to let myself go in front of The Beloved or anyone else for that matter. But I think the apple and pear trees in the orchard(ette) at the back were quite shocked and the chickens really did not know what to do with me at all.

I however firmly told The Beloved that it was "all for the best", we (ah ah, I) were getting far too attached to the animal and it was the best thing that some fox or other had got him and although (sob, hastily swallowed) we would miss him (she then started crying saying bizarrely that she would miss him licking her toes in the morning), it would be fine and actually set us free (free to do what exactly was not specified, I was too busy going to the back of the garden again to scare the apple trees some more).

We went to Cambridge yesterday for The Beloved Birthday Treat and roundly pretended we had forgotten all about Merlin's absence (although I did have to go to the loo for a bout of sobbing around lunch time but less said about that the better really).

We drove home in tense silence, both ardently praying to the Goddess of the Ways (it later transpired) to bring our boy home and when we opened the door...there he was.

This is were, ladies and gentlemen, I lost my mind all together and , to his great terror and general embarrassment, howled like a banshee and clasped him to my bosom in an unbridled moment of joy. The poor dear was completely horrified and so, probably, was the rest of the neighbourhood (I  could be heard in Biggleswade, 3 miles away).

So there we go...very happy!

LES VACANCES...??? WHAT VACANCES!!!!

Harvest

This is not actually the whole harvest, just one potatoes plant! So great, loads to harvest further.

As to this holiday at home malarkey...well don't try it at home (ah ah ah). Although it was great on Monday, going to London and playing at being tourists (gorgeous Nimrod rooms at the British Museum), since then its all been work work work, what with the harvest having got to go in, the digging in the back, the painting of the summer house (cedar red, gorgeous), the sending of the lavender to Shetlands, I tell you it is not a holiday at all.

Only, of course, we could argue that I am always on holiday. Watch out, I am just about to get all philosophical about this...holidays used to be for holy days and my days are fairly holy. I love my life, its great and I love not having to work, there I have said it. The nasty little voice (probably my dear mother's) that sits on my right shoulder is saying that it is not possible to not work, its not healthy, a woman my age...blah blah blah. Hold on a minute, I've just hit it over the head and its fallen off its perch.

Because, you see, what matters is the harvest and my harvest is so beautiful!

Its Lamas Tide in my calendar and Lamas is the first harvest, the wheat harvest. The other Friday during Gardeners Time, Aliss was saying that in the first year, you need to take all the apples off your new apple tree because you need to let the roots grow before allowing the tree to bear fruits... what a lesson! I was amazed. Think about it a minute... what if I allowed my lovely little dream to grow its roots before I demand to harvest fruits, what about that hey!!

But its so difficult to do whinges the voice which has managed to climb back on my right shoulder, this time I have decided to not biff it over the head but ask it politely to go and get a job herself, a goodly well paid salaried job that involves a lot of time on commuter trains. She loves the idea and has just gone off to peruse the papers... no really, that's what has just happened. You get a job dearie and I'll stay here and do my blog and start my little Etsy shop and enjoy myself, you can tell me all about it when you get back!

Hurrah! So Lamas resolution is to allow the roots to grow and not demand fruits. I will give this one year, Lamas to Lamas and by next year, I may  well have fruits!

Keep you posted! Thanks for listening

Happy Harvest