Dark Side of the Broom

Summer Snippets.

2012-01-04T23:19:00.001+11:00

Hulllooo! Happy New Year!

With the Summer in full-swing in these 'ere parts, I'm generally staying away from media and pooters, and swinging between resting and doing. The resting has been happening a fair bit lately with the shtinking hot days we've been having. I've been lolloping in the shade with my notebooks and pen, a novel, some non-fictional reading matter, a whacking great jug of iced herbal tea, (with lemon balm leaves for additional calm), and enough watermelon to sink a small un-seaworthy boat.

It's all about being here now and not really being terribly bovvered about much at all. Shamelessly I might add. It's the one time of the year that I really get to do that without too many distractions.

So here's a teensy glimpse of our Summer, which has thus far included enjoying a Solstice picnic with the Moon, and involved copious amounts of ice cold ginger beer, my favourite blue dress, and a sinuous Indian flute playing live and most serendiptitously in the background. It was both otherworldly and bucolic. And very sunshiney. In fact, it was a most welcome and soulful respite from the Christmas mayhem going on around us.

We also took the opportunity to head off to the country for market some market browsing, and possibly the best chai I have ever tasted, Vegas-themed elopement parties, (ok, just the one then), and selecting patterns to make summer dresses with fabric from my rapidly shrinking stash - mainly for the Moon who is growing like a weed. A very lanky dandelion-ish type of weed in fact.

And I actually do have many more interesting photos than these ones, (I do love my Hipstamatic app on ye olde iphone - perfect for the lazy, crap photographer), but these were the only ones I had without our faces in 'em. So the vibe will have to be sufficient here.

Hope you're enjoying/have enjoyed some pleasant and relaxing holiday time - whatever season you're deep in now.

Just a Bit of a Catch-Up. Or, Wot I Hath Been Doing of Late.

2011-12-02T09:20:00.000+11:00

Hmmm. So what is it now - a post every six months or so? Erk. I was about to wipe this blog - delete it entirely. And I did lock it awhile - due to the unsettling fact that my precious anonymity was entirely compromised. But this is some while back, and I can only assume that my very small and let's face it, trivial, meanderings are long forgotten by now.

But it made me feel very vulnerable - particularly the work-related stuff. So I locked the blog and waited until I was finished with the Devil's Own Exams to make a decision whether or not to render this blog obliviovus. A new Latin word! Not an extinct language after all hey? ; )

I was still thinking of erasure in fact, when a very sudden wave of nostalgic melancholia drenched me good an' proper, and I found myself here again, gingerly trying on this moth-eaten, demonically possessed old overcoat. With long black and flappy tails, and bats residing in the pockets. The kind of coat that Withnail would have worn. Wondering if it still fits or not. A sad and lingering damp smell pervades. So apologies for mixing metaphors, but this place needs airing. So here I am, flinging the windows wide open, (but never sweeping the cobwebs from the corners, oh no, for we do not dusteth in these parts. And I do have a fondness for the helpful spider).

But to return to the matter in hand, in the process of reviewing and spring cleaning this ricketty old shed, I have, er, ~~deleted~~ edited certain posts so that I may not feel as exposed. And you know what? It's just a blog. I have so much more going on in my life than this, it doesn't have to be anything more than it is, or a bloody masterpiece. Writing here or on any of my other blogs is not my Task of the Week. It's a blurt. Ramblings. Nobody has to read anything here.

So. Ahhh...that feels slightly better.

What has transpired with you dear reader? (I do realise that I am now addressing an entirely empty room. The fire has died and the hearthside is empty, along with the chai pot and cookie tin. The room is cold and barren, and so I talk to myself in the manner of which strange leddies do). Therefore, for the sake of some kind of dubious posterity, (mine own), I will collect some kindling and continue to witter on, whilst listening to Tom Waits' live album Glitter and Doom...ahhhhh! And also his latest offering which I am enjoying muchly - Bad As Me. Well, yes. How did you know Mr Waits?

Oh, and the new PJ Harvey album Let England Shake is very good. Can see why she won the Mercury Prize. Again.

Wot I have been up to:

Becoming (more of) a big hippy through my naturopathy studies. Gawd - a whole lot. This Health Science degree has not only tried to steal my firstborn from me, but also many of my now withered eggs for future interest payments. It's just a little bit like disappearing into a cult, such is the level of commitment. Fortunately, we do not sing silly songs or make offerings to overlords from other planets.

As a result of my reprobate ways, at the best of times I have about -$3.00 in the bank and have a great deal of fun dreaming up ways of acquiring bread and tram fares. Fortunately, this does not terrify me as it possibly should. I love what I'm doing, and don't mind for myself, but I do question what I am putting my family through...and not even for art! It's for science. Egads. Who'da thought?

...As a result of all this swotting palaver, I am becoming a scientist, (arrrrrrgggghhhhh!! noooooooooo!!!). Ahem. And my vocabulary has shrunk most alarmingly. In fact, I tend to end all my sentences these days with: "...n' stuff". I am a (nearly) lost cause.

I turned...40 about 6 weeks ago. Yes 40. And it was fun. And despite the fact that, in my mind at least, I still think I'm about 27, I am managing to reconcile myself with the much older woman who gazes back at me from the mirror, not without a wicked glint and a sense of irony, I must say.

I have been developing an obsessive fondness for the band Gaucho - who when I listen to them, make me feel inordinately cheerful. They're a gypsy jazz sextet from San Francisco who play 1930's European-style gypsy jazz kinda mashed with New Orleans swing...it takes me to very dark, sweet, and joyful places. Gaddammit - it's a fine thang suga.

And I'm enjoying Alice Hoffman's new book The Dovekeepers, as recommended to me by a friend. I'm not usually a fan of Hoffman's to be honest, particularly her modern stories and their vernacular, (for I am an old-fashioned kinda leddy). It's based on events surrounding the famous events at Masada in 70AD. A little reminiscent of Anita Diamant's The Red Tent which I also thoroughly enjoyed.

About to start a women's group...a full moon gathering to be precise. A well-trodden path perhaps, but I have a clear idea about this. It's sacred space to be held and shared, not a therapy session for individuals. More anon.

A women's gathering a bit like this one, but with cushions and lots of cheese.
Source.

Have become a very crunchy woman indeed, in that I now henna my hair and use beetroot juice to maintain my painted (red) strumpet-y status.

Current nom of choice is cucumber slices doused liberally with za'atar. Be done with it and rename this "crackumber" already.

A Solstice-y Post.

2011-06-22T23:35:00.002+10:00

This is the post I write when I'm not reeeally blogging at the moment. In fact, I'm in the thick of exams, and it's all head down, bum up et al, so the fact that I'm here at all has probably got something to do with the yerba mate* I drank earlier in the day, and an excess of manic mental energy.

Also, I don't think my brain can possibly contemplate any more stipules, placentation, gametophytes, alternation of generation, chloroplasts, and reticulated venation at this point, (er, Botany exam looming). And I need to remember that there was once a time in my life when I read, wrote, and spoke a language that is recognisably english.

So...happy Solstice! Whether it be Winter, (as we're currently in the throes of here in't Southern hem), or Summer days in your hood. If it's the latter you're enjoying I wish you dozy hammock time with a big floppy hat and a demned fine novel. Possibly a glass of prosecco, or whatever grabs yer fancy. Here, I'm looking forward to a mulled wine, a hot curry, and possibly some stolen moments with my neglected knitting. And more study. Oh.

I had a picture for you here, but blogger is determined to be bloody-minded. So just imagine Solstice-y things, with accompanying music break...

The Moon is gearing up for her school's Winter Festival tomorrow night. She's made a wonderful lantern for the occasion, and she's going to be in the school play. She was supposed to perform bare-footed, (outside. In the icy night I might add), because she is going to be an "indigenous person", (yes, just anonymously indigenous in the background, and apparently indigenous people must be barefooted). As it's proving to be a particularly Antarctic, (Arctic sounds better doesn't it?), winter we're having here, I had to say to the woman organising the play that although I don't wish to blight the authenticity of the venture, my child is to wear shoes. But apparently it just won't be the same...I confess I am the killer of theatrical dreams.

Somehow, I think my skinny, pale little ginger-ish kid may just not be all that authentically indigenous in the first place, and I suspect that some sense of belief/reality may have to be suspended at some point when viewing the performance in question. Well, it is a play non? But, then, maybe it is all about the shoes, (many, many women believe that it is all about the shoes), and I am a big Wet Blanket, and this poor teacher who has to basically herd cats for living, is possibly feeling much the same way as Blackadder did when he said, "fortune vomits on my eiderdown once more". Fortune being yet another precious parent.

But onto Other Things.

Musically speaking, right now, I'm very much enjoying Amiina's Puzzle, (Amiina are the string section who play with Sigur Ros on their albums), as well as the truly fabulous Late Night Tales as mixed by Trentemøller. Love. It.

Am looking forward to redeeming a delightful gift in the form of this 'ere...post exams. Indulgence.

There may also be the odd leisurely lunch to be had at this old favourite, a celebratory dinner, and a couple of long overdue creative projects to be embarked upon.

This Solstice sees me at a transitional point. Big shifts happening, and the next stage of life is opening up before me. So many wild opportunities, (I mean, really), and some serious questions regarding motherhood and what I can feasibly take on, or not. I'm finding this a good time to release and consolidate in general.

Many Solstice blessings to you dear reader, whether you are embracing the light, or moving towards the Winter dark.

*which has basically got caffeine in it, whatever its delightfully hippy pr says. And from the studies I've been reading, it may not be altogether a good idea. Um in general.

Joy Pockets

2011-06-11T13:33:00.007+10:00

Well, back to our normal programming. I'm emerging from a rather arduous 6-month or more long depression where I felt I was actually losing my mind, (hence the shutting down of this blog for a wee while, for it mayeth contain nuts and should therefore come with a warning).
These things are certainly sent to try us wot? Discovering that I have a serious hormonal disorder that has made a number of things tricky, (and had some nasty side-effects and implications, as well as the fact that there'll probably be no more babies for me - which is sad, but hey, I'm getting a bit geriatric for all that anyway), has shed some light on the matter; and addressing this immediately alleviated the feral Black Dog that had come to visit me in my parlour.

I'm certainly feeling a deep appreciation for good friends who have been such a great support to me, even though I have behaved like an insane piece of baggage at times. They are actually still here! Singular. It's also been a good lesson in boundaries and I no longer give my energy away where I don't feel it is reciprocated, (for whatever valid reason), both in my online and offline life. It makes me unable to give in other important areas, (I have been neglecting some lovely connections and need to spend some time nurturing these too), as well care properly for myself. So redirecting my energies and being more focused and mindful about them is where it's at for me. It's a good, grounding lesson in self-respect, and yes, all that self-love stuff. And then that flows forth like a mighty river to others. Or something like that. Heh.

And now that I can feel the joy again, and as a gesture of appreciation for all the good, beautiful people and things in life, I'm thinking about getting on board with Mon's Joy Pockets.

'Ere goes...

✬

handpainted malabrigo lace yarn

African violets around my housie
drooling over carnelian earrings on Etsy

watching the wonderful series Treme
late-night conversations with dear friends on the other side of the world
sewing an "olden days" costume for my girl's birthday
beautiful gift of a sublime boho blue summer dress from a dear friend which has made me supremely happy : )
thyme, peppercorn, and olive oil infused goat's chevre that melts in the mouth
playing "fetch" with my cat Merlin, (yes he thinks he is a dog and I have video evidence)

✬

Malabrigo lace yarn in colour 'pagoda' from Eat, Sleep, Knit.

Vintage-y Bikes and Other Such Delights

2011-02-11T09:28:00.001+11:00

Have to be somewhere soonish, so I'm off on my bike in a minute. Oh how I do love my bike. It's so lovely, and rose red and vintage-y, with a delicious wicker basket on the front of it where I've placed two big fake, red blousy roses. And it's called 'Ruby Belle', (well, that's what's written on the side). Oh yes indeedy. I am so very chuffed with my bike. I'm planning to make a lining for the bike basket, (covered in roses of course - hehe). But in the mean time I happily scoot around with my big fake shamelessly overblown roses, and often a big bunch of kale and far too many library books sticking up out of my basket, threatening to unbalance me entirely. And it all makes me irrationally cheerful.

I've been told since I serendipitously acquired my bike that I'm a lot like Miss Price, (the witch from the book Bedknob and Broomstick by Mary Norton - also a film), which is possibly quite fitting if you know that story. Except that I'm not a spinster and I don't live in a village. And I'm not called Eglantine, (but I really wouldn't mind being called Eglantine at all. It's a grower, that name, and highly appropriate I think for someone who adores roses). So, er, perhaps I'm don't uncannily resemble Miss Price. But in a former era I would totally be a spinster living in a small village, riding around on my old fashioned bike trying to use my witchcraft to aid the war effort. I wouldn't teach the piano, (my word! That would be grim with my playing skills), but I would love to visit the sick. Maybe with a salve or herbal brew. Most definitely. It would be all Keep Calm and Carry On, but with spells and gingerbread.

Being on my bike helps me think, because although I tend to be a rather stately rider, (all the racing-bike clad cyclists zip past me as I meander along), it's movement in general that tends to help me gain some clarity.

The next few days I'm going to be needing said clarity, as because of looming dates and deadlines, I have to make a whole swag of rather Big Decisions over the weekend. Just the usual life-work stuff that can define or at least set the rhythm for the year ahead.

Decisions regarding how much study I take on, how much work I can fit in between study and mothering, (it looks as though I may well be teaching Literature at a uni again on as sessional basis - in an area I absolutely love to pieces).

So. I think the rain is clearing, so I'm going to do my very best Miss Price impersonation and go for a wee pedal up t'road. Cheerio to all, and have a jolly fine weekend wherever you are.

Summer Musings, Parenting, and Other Random Bits.

2011-01-26T14:29:00.008+11:00

The summer has well and truly settled upon me. I drift slowly through my days in a kind of torpor. Semi-hibernation. Dormancy. Time has collapsed; I'm forgetful, slow(ish), and I have to say, not exactly motivated. I think people refer to this as being "in holiday mode", but to me it's as though I was in the middle of something important and then a possibly somewhat wicked witch, (but, hey, we like those don't we?), cast a spell on me, and I wander around trying to remember what it was I had to do...slay a dragon? Spin straw into gold? Clean out the fridge?

It's quite pleasant but also unsettling, this flagrant self-indulgence. There are picnics, and delicious invitations, but I'm not being much of a social butterfly this summer, and have been keeping things simple. Seeing close friends only, and letting the outer ripples of the social circles fade a little. They'll be there when everything is in full swing again. I think my seasonal cycles are a little topsy-turvy, because I contract my energy in the summer, and feel far more expansive in the colder months.

There's much to be done, and the year is about to unfurl very suddenly and reveal its very busy self. And there are Big Things on the horizon. Oh yes. But right now, chez Nettles resembles Sleeping Beauty's castle - with various human and non-human creatures draped snoozing and oblivious across books, chairs, beds and couches, and often the floor.

A bit like my house at the moment. But without the many bearded chaps. And Prince Charming.

(image: Prince Charming finds everyone in Sleeping Beauty's castle asleep, from Les Contes de Perrault, 1867. Illustrated by Gustave Dore, from Wikipedia Commons).

The Summer has made Night Owls of us, and the evenings are filled with books, art, crafting, conversations - both here and long-distance, and surreptitious games with dolls, teddies, and other props played beneath the bed covers, late into the night when certain 8 year olds are supposed to be sleeping: "ok mama, in a minute. I just have to put my dolls to bed. They have cholera". Ahem.

I'm wondering what this year will hold, and have been thinking carefully about how I want to integrate different, and often competing activities and impulses, (isn't this so often the case for all of us, but perhaps most particularly for those of us who are parents perhaps?) Namely, study, creativity, paid work, the desire to wander and travel again, (which is so strong right now), and my wish, my need to focus on my family, and the love and the dreams, that are calling me there. The full moon in Cancer was a big, dreamy, fullsome one was it not? Drawing us home to some real or possibly imagined emotional centre. I think I sunk deeper into my daze, and am only now just emerging.

But the way my brain is "working" at the moment, lulled by the steady clack of my bamboo knitting needles, (yes, I am engaged in irrational summer crafting involving very warm red wool), and vaguely kicked into gear by a steady supply of earl grey green tea, I find it easier to focus on random snippets, and perhaps share some interesting ones with you dear reader...

* Discovering Fairytale Magazine. And also this fairytale-related blog...I mean, how can I resist such lovelies?

* The ultimate, (in my very humble opinion), oat cookie recipe, (with chocolate chips! And maple syrup! And vanilla! Ok enough!) It's found in my fave recipe book of the moment Feeding the Whole Family by Cynthia Lair, which I seem to be referring to for inspiration for many, many dinners. But these cookies are so good. You can find the recipe here at Attachment Mama.

* A free knitting pattern for Wicked Witch Stockings from this fabbo site of wool and wit. The stockings are stripey of course. Need I say more?

* This beautiful, wise post from Mama Om has stayed with me, not only because it aligns with so much of what I feel and believe, but it also made me think how dramatically different my approach to parenting is now compared to how I first started out, and definitely before I had my child. It reflects so much of what I've come to learn over the years as a parent, and how much I've changed since becoming a parent. You know, before I had a child, I was sure that my child would be super well-mannered, and well-behaved, and that that was also Really Important. I didn't have much patience for messiness and "badly" behaved children, or more particularly, their parents who lacked "control". Hehehe. Oh bollocky-bollocks. Yes. Quite. Laugh at me dear reader, because I was a silly young gal.

On the whole the Moon is actually lovely, (bias alert!), and she has pretty good manners for sure. But I'm not setting out to raise a courtesan, or a people-pleaser. I would rather have a child who is happy, confident and strong, and who has courage and respect for herself, (as well as for others), and who is guided by a sound inner compass and intelligence, than a "good", super-polite, pliant-and-keeping-everyone-or-at-least-adults-happy-and-always-worrying-about-what-others-think child. Who hasn't seen the results of this in adults they know? And it can breed years of unhappiness, angst, and a natural inclination towards dishonesty and manipulation. Once upon a time, I wanted my child to reflect certain values that I held, (and this is natural to a degree isn't it?) But I now realise that some of these were complete bloody blind-spots born of my idealistic cluelessness, naivete, and a good dollop of judgemental thinking, (who me? judgemental? heh). It was also inherited from my own well-meaning parents. And, well, simply not worth holding on to.

Ah. There you go. Rant over ; )

* Saw this production of Mary Poppins with the Moon on Sunday night. Here I was steeling myself for 3 hours of, er, somewhat wholesome fun, (being somewhat disinclined towards musical theatre in general I have to admit). But I found myself having a ball and it was quite brilliant fun! It may also have had something to do with the look of absolute glee and delight on the Moon's face throughout the entire show.

* Thinking of getting hold of this book all about natural dyes. I've dabbled with natural dyes many years ago, but I'm interested in taking it all a bit further. Another string to the ol' bow. Has anyone out there done this sort of thing before? Any tips me hearties?

Diversionary Tactics.

2011-01-13T14:22:00.002+11:00

It's such a horribly sticky day that all my intentions, namely those requiring any kind of movement, have gone out the window. Queensland is currently in the grip of terrible and frankly incomprehensible floods, (affecting areas at least the size of Germany and France together), that have also tragically incurred loss of life, and which have catapulted the event into the awful status of National Disaster.

We here are not directly affected by the floods, (although the cost of food will now skyrocket because a massive amount comes to us from Queensland), but by gum it's raining muchly. And the heat. The heat. I'm usually one for a little humidity, but this is the kind that leaves one, and everything else, sweaty and damp all day with little relief. Thankyou La Niña, combined with a worrying dollop of climate change. And I don't mean to sound flippant.

Looking out my window I encounter such a benign scene. It's a lot like that particularly English variety of rain that they get in them thar parts, (not always obviously, it can get pretty intense there as well), gentle, constant, and very greening. But The Moon and I went for a wander in it before, on a quest for a refreshing glass of kombucha, (slather), and discovered pretty quickly, it's a little more Southern Gothic in a Louisiana swamp kinda way. My word! The humidity! (92% apparently). And the Giant Vampire Mosquitoes on Steroids! Or at least, they must be feasting on people who take steroids because I've never seen them so big, (nor so plentiful). And yes, I realise that's very, er, scientific of me.

Summer retreat - my somewhat overgrown balcony garden, (taken on my iphone, further underlining my dubious photography skills). The garden is Gothic indeed. But I do like a bit of overgrown in-my-lady's-bower action. Being all wrapped in green. Not everyone's cuppa I realise. But oh the jasmine! (foreground) is flowering at the moment, and the scent in the evenings is sublime.

So I am doing as they do in India, and sipping chai, because they really know a thing or two about surviving oppressive heat there, (and I shall be eternally grateful to the Sub-Continent for giving chai to the world because it's the perfect accompaniment to most predicaments). In fact, I should probably rename this blog Chai and Misadventures, so thoroughly preoccupied with the stuff am I. You may have noticed a theme emerging. Ahem.

As a, (yes, ok, very frivolous), diversion from all of the above, I thought I would compile one of my random lists of bits and bobs for fun.

* I've been chatting to a fair few people lately about the joys of organic vegie boxes. We get ours through CERES Fair Food, and it's a great venture really worth supporting if you are local and so inclined.

* The Bloke will be playing some mooosic at this late summer event down at the National Gallery of Victoria, and it's usually a bit o' (nicely low-key) fun.

* And may I say just how obsessed with Ravelry I have become of late? 'Ere I am if you want to be friendly. It is a self-contained World I tell you! A vortex of woolly wonder. Yes, this is somewhat repetitive of me, but I have pierced the veil of knitting mysteries and have joined the ranks of the initiated. It's all very exciting. I joined ages ago, but wasn't active there 'til this past week or so. But I do feel at this point, something of a fraud, due to the fact that to date, all of my projects are floating around in the ether, and haven't yet hit the needles. I tend to spend a lot of time researching and thinking and building up to things. Then whacko! I'll pounce. In like Flynn! So to speak. I'm still at the, um, research stage of things. Ok?

Currently I have many favourites, and quite a few in the queue to embark upon, but I just last night discovered this one, whilst ~~stalking~~ searching for patterns. It's deliciously druid-y-forest-y. And then I realised that I can make it for little more than AUD$30 if I buy this wool from here. Pretty bloody good value really.

* The Moon has just asked me if I was alive in the 14th Century. Some days I feel as though I may have been. Children do wonders for the vanity don't they? Yesterday, she said to me: "you don't look that old today mama. You look about 14". Ta.

* Speaking of The Moon, I am about to make her another of these peasant dresses. And it will be the last of these I will be making for her, as the pattern goes up to a size 8, (it's actually pretty good covering sizes from 6 months to 8 years, and is quite delicious). The Moon chose these fabrics here, (the peach colourway), from the Sandi Henderson Meadowsweet range.

* Also might have a go at these baskets. If I'm really organised.

* We've been lurking around the library a good deal, (as we do on hot Summer days, the thought of the beach in that weather is anathema to the likes of us), and as a result I've been trawling through recipe books and adding some new recipes to the repertoire. We've been greatly enjoying the Ginger Lemonade, (which is actually a concentrate), found in Moosewood Restaurant Celebrates.

* Merlin, (the kitten) has an obsession with chocolate and geranium petals. As a consequence we've had to hide all the chocolate, and any geraniums picked for the house quickly become bald and limp. I'm wondering if he has some kind of feline Pica. But he's not eating anything else untoward, and has to be the most chilled-out feline I've encountered, (apart from his 9-11pm manias).

* Apart from the usual obligations the year is already presenting to me, (study I will chat about some other time), I'm very keen to travel somewhere this year. Every coupla years I get a terrible itch to travel and just have to go somewhere. I don't know whether it arises from having a very peripatetic childhood, but it's quite a deep imperative for me. Fortunately, (and also quite unfortunately in some instances), I've mostly had the travel stars aligning so that a good deal of free, or near-free travel has landed upon me, but these days it could be tricky. I'm going to see where this goes, and hopefully I can swing something. Melbourne is like many big cities, quite insular in its own way, and people can stay here for years and years without any need to leave. As a result, there are a good many people I've encountered here who have never actually been out of town. Their entire lives. And I'm not talking about very old people. Quite extraordinary. To me anyway, and considering Australians are supposed to be the most well-travelled people in the world. And doesn't the world know it...who hasn't had an encounter with an (often drunken) Antipodean in some far-flung corner of the globe?

* Thinking about a stint here this year with a few friends, (if we can get a good group of us together to cover costs). Imagine, hours of uninterrupted crafting with a gang of likely wenches, plenty of music, possibly wine, depending on how many of us are preggers, breast-feeding, or just generally abstemious as I am at present, (being Whiteadder-ish as I like to call it).

* Planning to catch Black Swan on the big screen. Even when I find Aronofski's films pretentious, (The Fountain for instance), I still think he's a damned interesting film maker, and I'll check out whatever he's doing. I'm particularly fascinated by this one though.

* And to end on a really frivolous note...Hot damn! Do I want these shoes...and another pair just for good measure.

Ok, see youse, and all the very bestest.

Enjoying the Space In-Between.

2010-12-30T11:13:00.006+11:00

Well here we all are on t'other side of festive proceedings, which included our traditional viewing of The Nightmare Before Christmas, gingerbread people, Solstice cake, and obscenely-shaped carrot snacks for certain reindeer. And I must say, at this point it's quite lovely to just potter and pause, and rest in the space between. With cake of course. Heh. Currently we are pyjama-ed and spread out on the dining table, with the morning sun streaming in the windows, avec art supplies and the Moon-child's art in various stages of completion. We're munching on slabs of hommus on rye toast, sipping veritable rivers of peppermint tea, and Joni Mitchell's Blue is on the rekkid player, (which seems to have emerged as our most-played album of the summer so far). The kitten is doing some kind of mad, wild-eyed circuit of the room, and a package full of beautiful, handmade clothing from Gaia Conceptions has just arrived.

Nativity scene for Advent and Christmas. No, I haven't suddenly become all religious. Um, it's a Steiner thing. Initially I had ambitious plans to do a handmade holy family, (Mazza, Jozza, and Jezza). I made Mazza following the instructions in the book All Year Round, and by the time I had finished her I was completely over it all, so I snatched a doll from the Moon's dollhouse and made him some suitably bliblical garb, and did a quick needle-felted job on the Chosen One. Also didn't have adequate shepherd-like figures. So two gnomes and a laconic owl had to suffice. Ta da.

It's all deeply pleasant really, and so very good to just stop. I've decided that I'm not going to embark on a Summer School subject, (to try and fast-track my degree). For although I'm surprisingly fascinated by organic chemistry, I don't fancy my summer break being swallowed up by yet more study. Instead, I've been needle-felting things, painting a chest of drawers a lovely yellow for the Moon, watching old movies with my family, contemplating knitting projects, and a number of sewing projects, including some brightly coloured bunting for the kitchen. I'm still in search of a fabulous novel to be excited about...(any suggestions??)

I also find it's the time of the year when I feel most motivated to 'spring clean'. When the tree is taken down, (looking a bit worse for wear because it was delivered by Oxfam three weeks before Christmas. Three. Weeks), and there are pine needles from here until next year, I find I get all inspired to rearrange furniture and reconfigure things in general. This is partly spurred by the need to make room in our wee house for new stuff, because although we try to keep the acquisition of Stuff to a minimum, it does creep up on one, particularly during the festive season. So I have been rummaging through cupboards filling garbage bags full of clothes, toys, and sundry flotsam to give to charity. I can feel the home exhale. It feels clearer and more peaceful.

And the Moon now has a violin, (her Steiner class embarks upon a strings program for the next few years and she chose the violin, which I'm very happy about. I don't even mind the somewhat screech-y practising). Ok, I'm off to gnaw on a juicy mango. Hope you're all travelling well, and are able to get some lovely rest time. How is it all going for you?

Of Solstice and Knitting

2010-12-22T10:54:00.005+11:00

Hope you enjoyed your Solstice, whether it be of a summery or wintry variety. Although it's supposed to be Summer 'ere in these parts, yesterday dawned somewhat grey and chilly and almost wintry, (which I don't mind at all because it is far more conducive to scoffing gingerbread and supping on hot fragrant chai than if we were roasting in 30-plus Celsius weather).

Not only was it Solstice, but it was a lunar eclipse also. Spesh.

It's been a while since I showed up here, and I've mostly been away from the interwebs, recovering from my year of study and generally winding down, shifting gear, and taking care of lots of neglected areas of life that tend to fall by the wayside when one's head is being occupied by assignments and exams and whatnot. There's also been epic events connected with Moon's school, (how many school picnics, concerts, and festivals can one child have I ask you?)

I've noticed a prevailing theme emerging amongst my friends and I, and even among friendly interweb bods, in that a number of us have been wanting to slow things down, simplify, and not attempt to try and do too much. I've certainly been attempting my own version of this, particularly as things started to get stupidly busy and I just decided that enough is enough.

So now, in the days leading up to Chrimbledom, I'm just pottering, doing some festive baking, (but not too much!), and crafting with the Moon who is now on school hols. And eating just a little too much gingerbread. Ahem.

We've had some big and small changes here lately, largely instigated by me. Thing is, those of you who know me, know that I would prefer to live out of the city somewhere a bit beautiful and green, and quiet. But due to a combo of factors, including the Moon's schooling, (not to mention her teacher who we would follow to the end of this blessed earth because he is a freakin' genius with children), we are very much in the city for the next little while.

So, in order to align a bit more with our values/ideas about how we want to live we've been busy investigating composting systems, and acquiring ceramic water purifiers, push-bikes and a kitten. Er, yes, a kitten. I'm aware of the dissonance in that sentence. Long story, but mostly to do with the Moon desperately wanting a kitten and catching me during a momentary lapse of reason.

And having been lectured by righteous types on the evils of cats and the environment, let me just say that I have strictly indoor cats, and they have no opportunity to prey upon birds or animals - native or otherwise - of any description. Except flies and mosquitoes, (which I heartily encourage). I do find it odd that I tend to receive such lectures from the owners of rabbits. Um, yes, rabbits. So good for the environment. Not feral, nasty, cannibals. Or anything like that.

Anyway, let me introduce to you, Merlin...(so named by the Moon). 10 weeks old, total chaos, and very cuddly and affectionate.

Merlin: being jet black, I have to capture in bright sunlight and with his eyes open, otherwise he tends to disappear. I nearly sat on him the other day when he went to sleep on a black chair.

In other news, (or not-news), I've become quite obsessed by knitting over the past few months. This has taken me a little by surprise, as I'm someone who tends to be far more inclined to things of a fabricky and sewing nature. Although I have knitted bits and pieces over the years, they tend to resemble Roman roads in their straight and undeviating nature, (er, scarves for instance), and I always thought myself far too impatient for knitting. But the knitting envy became overwhelming and I have since embarked upon Projects.

I finally completed a cardigan for the Moon, having it on the needles back in July and pretty much finished by August, and then, I encountered the picking up of stitches around the neck, (cue music suggestive of doom), and following a goodly amount of swearing that would lay out a sailor with a fit of the vapours, it languished in my knitting basket for the next few months. Finally I asked a friend Who Knows About Knitting what to do with the sodding thing, and it all came together very quickly after that. I could post a pic, but I haven't taken one yet...(how's that for an anti-climax).

Suffice to say, it worked! And it fits the Moon! And she loves it, (it was her Solstice pressie), and it is the colour of berries and cream! And it has star-shaped purple buttons made from sea-shells!

*Blink, blink*.

But, now I am infused with the fire of woolly inspiration...erm. I've been swooning over goodies on ravelry, acquiring wool, (a veritable ton of Peace Fleece), knitting books, and patterns, (even though I can't for the life of me understand what half of them mean, and by the time I look up all the knitting abbreviations, I can't remember what I was doing in the first place). I am determined to embrace circular needles, although I am deeply, deeply intimidated by them, because I have just purchased this delicious book, and want to make just about everything in there, (the elf hat! the elf hat!). And nearly all of these patterns require circular needles.

And I want to make most of this lovely designer's patterns as well, and Tea Leaves for me, and Tiny Tea Leaves for Moon.

But at the moment it all amounts to a large pile of knitting porn. I have a mountain of learnin' to do. So dear reader, are you able to point me in the direction of any good tutorials? Particularly in regards to circular and double pointed needles?

And what knitting or other crafty projects, if any, do you have on the go at the moment?

What the New Moon Brought...

2010-11-09T10:10:00.002+11:00

This weekend just gone, (oh please come back to me sweet weekend, don't go so quickly!), gave us a New Moon in Scorpio. Intensity wot? I actually thoroughly enjoyed this energy, but oh my dreams! My dreams were full of tea-time chats with dangerous and charismatic fairy kings, strange unearthly magic, doorways into Other Worlds, and all manner of fae-ness. Bemusing at times. Did anyone else have wild and woolly dreams I wonder?

from Paulina Cassidy's tarot

This moon carried the energy of transformation, and it was a good moon to get really clear about what is working, and release what isn't working in the ol' life. What relationships, ideas, and dreams are worth nurturing, and what needs to be released and healed, and let go of good an' proper. It's a time when truth and lies and even nefarious dealings can be exposed, (ooer - intrigue!), revealing that where you thought it may all have been peace-love-and-mung-beans, lurk far darker, often unconscious, and less er, 'evolved' motivations.

It's been a good time for a psychological Spring clean, or a late Autumn purge. Depending on your season and inclination of course. Mon has created a lovely space over at Spiral Sisters, and does a moste fab moon post on a regular basis, and it's worth checking out what she has to say about New Moon in Scorp. A humdinger.

Instinctively I've felt the need to rebalance. It's been a very long sloggy year of study. As an aside, can you believe dear reader that I am currently immersed not only in learning about herbs and sundry potions, but also medical science? Indeed. Truly singular, and a strange notion I thought would ne'er come to pass. But here I am, on the eve of my exams, (er, note to self - study don't blog), and I am feeling the need to reclaim certain unused bits of my life that have disappeared under a pile of dust and cobwebs. Whereas other things, I am needing to let go of altogether.

Very basically, the following is some of what (the less private stuff anyway) emerged from my New Moon musings...

- decided that I'm going to try and meditate more - make it a daily practice instead of an accidental phenomenon.

- same with yoga, although this occurs more often, I want to nurture my practice more. Create a space and rhythm that I 'go home' to on a daily basis. Even if only for 10 minutes. That 10 minutes can work powerful magic, just being with the breath. Resting there.

- I'm going to learn to drive, (yes, yes). I realise that this is case of arrested development, (or just plain laziness), but even if I can't operate one of those nasty mechanical eyesores of the auto variety, I can ride a horse and fly a broom. So there. Still, the time is nigh for a different kind of licence and to confront fears around being on the roads with complete maniacs. Ahem.

- not be on facebook nearly as much. It's not as though I like it. At all. In fact, it is crap-eth, and sucks up my valuable time and energy which I could be using to, er, blog. Or make things - such as brew potions of greate delighte, or...I don't know - chase the trade wind all the way to the Caribbean. You get the picture. Let creativity breathe. And inspiration.

- identifying the need to let go of grudges and anger. Some of my family being Scottish and Intense have 500 year old grudges. Do not crosseth a mad MacKenzie an' all that. I hope I'm not quite like that, but like many, my anger is fiercest when I see those I love and care about hurt or wronged, or where I have seen deep injustice occur. And I have these past few months. Ok, I don't go around hurting people, but the thing is, you can hurt yourself with a big fat grudge, and all that anger stewing in your inner cauldron. And anger, whilst sometimes being a jolly useful emotion if directed well, can eat into the soul, (and the liver in fact), which equals a big fat waste. Not that I leave the door wide open for those with dodgy intentions to walk in, sit down, and drink all my chai. Thankyouverymuch. I just won't allow them the power by letting anger eat away and erode the good bits in life.

- Get to bed a bit earlier. Simple. Essential. So very hard for me to make happen.

- overhaul the wardrobe, and align its contents to where I am currently in the scheme of things. And get some more practical clobber. I cringe slight at the word 'practical' when it comes to clothing. I've never been an 'occasion' dresser. Isn't everything an occasion? Usually I wear the same thing for gardening as I do for going out to a restaurant, (and no, I do not go out covered in dirt). I don't own a pair of tracksuit pants, (for the sake of propriety I won't tell you what we refer to these chez Nettles...hehe), and I am not a jeans-wearing woman. I could happily hang out in a medieval style tunic or gown much of my days. But that isn't so good for bike-riding, and it's these sorts of activities I need to think of now. And yes, stripey tights are most definitely appropriate for all occasions and can certainly be defined as not only 'practical', but damned nigh essential.

And you dear reader? Have you been courting or contemplating any changes lately?

I'm Back. Well, Sort Of.

2010-11-07T08:46:00.006+11:00

This is just me dipping my toe in the water. A trip down memory lane. It's been nearly a year since I posted here and I have a whole new blog thing going on that I just started recently.

What's been happening over the past year for me? Well, I started a new degree, of which I am a year into - a Bachelor of Health Science (Naturopathy) to be exact. So these days I fiddle with herbal medicines and am unnervingly preoccupied with various digestive processes and other bodily functions.

Pottering with herbs. My ideal set-up.

There's been a whole swag of other stuff as well, but how do I condense a year's worth of news into one blog post? Well, er, I can't can I? And much of it would be far too tedious to recount for you dear reader.

I actually don't think there are any readers here anymore...hehe...so I'm here chatting to myself like a madwoman in a cave, listening to my own echo.

Well, must dash need to make banana smoothies for brekkie and plant some seeds in me pots outside. I may return at some point, sometime, somewhere...

Whoever you are, wherever you are, warm wishes and may your broom fly straight.

Zoom, Zoom...

2009-12-11T15:32:00.005+11:00

Off on the private jet-broom for a bit of a (spontaneous) much-needed holiday. See youse all in about a week or so. Fare thee well lovelies.

Kiki from Kiki's Delivery service. Image from here.

Bloggy Renos

2009-11-04T19:01:00.005+11:00

Good evening lovelies! It's been a little while hasn't it? This is partly due to my attendance at a particularly beautiful wedding last weekend. Sigh...delightful. I'm sure many of you have a lot of news I will be needing to catch up with you all...I shall get to that and look forward to going visiting you in my virtual phaeton.

I've also been doing a lot of fiddling behind the scenes, (in entirely legitimate ways I assure you), and you may have noticed a few changes here on't blog. I've also been setting up a new blog, and was going to be all secret squirrel-y about it, but I will announce it anon. I need a fresh start. There are things that bug me about being here. It represents a stage of my life that was radically different to the one I am living now. But I'm not going to scrap DSOTB.

So you may have noticed that my username has changed (singular! and I hope not too confusing dear reader). The thing is "docwitch" irks me, and was only ever intended to be an ironic, silly thing,(and accompanied by the image of a cat - myself - in an 18th Century frock I fail to see how it could be otherwise). But, if truth be told it is an absolute clanger of a name - heavy and pretentious sounding. And the irony of it is frequently mistaken for something altogether, well, lacking in irony. Nettles is actually a nickname of mine. One that at first I detested, but which has grown on me. Erm...

And it does say something about me - I do love herbs, and I do have a bit of sting, (it's that Mercury and Venus in Scorpio, tsk, tsk). But just dunk me in some hot water and brew me until I'm dozy and I quickly become completely innocuous. Possibly medicinal. Although that may be stretching the analogy a little too far.

And although this may be revealing a little too much, "Nettles" is very much related to my real name (as is my little portrait there in the corner). Ok, moving right along...nothing to see here.

My restlessness has me tinkering with my gadgets, and I am completely confounded by the arrangement of them. They won't cooperate, however I try to arrange things. This is only a recent "improvement" with Blogger, but it drives me to distraction. So I have removed all my awards for now, and will try to arrange them properly at a later date.

And on another note, we've just had a full moon in Taurus. I found it a gentle, beauteous yet pragmatic energy this time around. I did over-indulge on champagne (well, it was at a wedding). But for the first time in ages, the full moon wasn't an intense, overpowering trip. How was it for you dear reader?

Wuthering Heights and Olden Days Frocks.

2009-10-24T14:32:00.015+11:00

Just a quick drop-in to say hello and that I haven't gone visiting on the blogsies much lately due to other commitments and distractions. I have a huge pile of stuff to get through at the moment, and am only moving at half-speed through it all due to health issues.

But! *hyperventilates with excitement*, a number of you may be aware of just how much I adore all things Austen and all things Bronte. I tone down my obsession here, but this was the scholarky (it's a word, because I hath deemed it so), path I was heading down at one point, except that it wasn't considered a "new and original" enough topic by my fellow academics, and thus would be less likely to attract the PhD scholarship my actual topic did. Should have stuck to my guns, but I was young and self-doubting. Anyway, this is despite the fact that my Honours thesis, which was on E.B's Wuthering Heights was praised as being a "beautiful new reading of the novel" *snorts tea through nose along with a goodly amount of skepticism*. How's that for a little shameless boast? Oh well. Blame it on the excitement. But the point is, is that it's absolutely possible to bring something new to a reading, and there is always an unfinished element to reading and interpreting a story, and we shouldn't be daunted by the monolithic status of certain novels...and look at the fun they had with Lost in Austen and Bridget Jones (which didn't do much for me, but I'm glad it's there).

Tangent! See the thing is, I have never seen a half-decent production of WH. Maybe I'm just being too picky, (quite possibly), but I have despised the ones I have seen, and they have completely failed to capture the elements of the novel, or they have been anaemic versions of the story. This could be at least in part due to the novel embodying a kind of Nature Mystery, and a circular time-space collapse/head-f**k; and also so many of its elusive elements are enacted off the page/screen. Yet I have always felt that a deft hand could produce a breathtaking screen adaptation of Gothic deliciousness that could avoid the usual lazy and frankly banal devices that are mostly preoccupied with the straight love story aspects of the novel ("ooh - will she choose the rich boy or the poor brutal scruff "? That kind of thing, which is only a part of what EB was getting at. *Stops briefly to genuflect at creepy shrine of EB in the corner of the room*).

Cathy and Heathcliff, (ITV version)

So, this Sunday night, being the optimist that I am, will find me parked in front of the teev in order to view a screening of the latest ITV production of Wuthering Heights. I have greatly enjoyed some of the ITV Austen productions/confections of these past couple of years: S&S, MP, NA, and the very lovely Persuasion. So, I'm so wanting this one to be a good 'un.

And if I had my way, I wouldn't go back in time, but I'm happy to weave elements from time's past into my life now. Tea cups smothered in roses (and leisurely afternoon teas), and the frocks! Oh the frocks...

In fact, I'm off to sew a frock that is just a little Austen-esque. I am attending the wedding of the Preciousssesss** next weekend, so I had better get cracking on this little number.

The pattern is a fave I've had in my stash since I made it 15 years ago, (I never let go of patterns). It's so comfortable and feels so lovely on.

I'm making it out of the loveliest grey lawn, strewn with subtle but sparkly flowers, and it makes me think of a watercolour sun-shower.

And because the lawn is see-through, I have the most buttery soft muslin to line it all with, (can't go shocking the punters now can we?). And it's all done on a very meagre budget, so I am feeling a bit smug.

I am always happy to drift around in "olden days" (as The Moon refers to any period prior to the year of my birth), dresses and have never been at home in jeans. Long hair and sprigged muslin is kind of where it's at for me. I suppose that makes me an anachronism. But I have never been a great follower of fa-fa-fa-fashun. I am the Anti-hip.

Now, a very quick question (if you've managed to make it this far). I'm tinkering behind the scenes. So, dear reader, I ask thee: Blogger or Wordpress? And is Wordpress ok for dummies? I mean, really? Or would I have to contort myself into all sorts of scary html knots? Advice appreciated!

**me darlins Sol y luna and the Ginger Hobo.

Stumbling Out of the Cave. So to Speak.

2009-10-21T23:25:00.013+11:00

Still can't sit at my 'pooter for very long, (my back still "has a sore-ow" as The Moon used to say when she was a little 'un). I am definitely going to get it seen to, and thanks to everyone who offered advice on this front. Always appreciated and taken on board.

I am still emerging from the Dark Moon, and finding myself blinking and somewhat dazed out in the light again. And I'm emerging from this little cave a bit slowly this time 'round, as I've also been knee deep in painting, (quite literally I'm afraid, but let's not discuss it. Ahem). My Pa has been visiting and helping me with said painting, and I now have a vastly improved and rather cheerful kitchen, (will take a photie when I have done The Dishes, (yes, that does require capitalisation, and there are many alarming reasons why).

The Dark Moon has been a biggie for me this time around. Would it be so terribly trite of me to say that it has been a momentous one? Transformative? A rebirth even? (Mommymystic - you were right on that score). How? Can't really explain how...and that would be exceedingly dull for you dear reader. And I'm finding lately that this wee spot here on da blogs* is only scratching the surface in terms of what I can talk about. I find myself a little lost in trying to articulate all that is going on. The beautiful possibilities, the synchronicities**, and also other things...grief. The much-needed sloughing off of layers.

As an almost aside, but not quite as it all still relates to these Dark Moon ponderings, (and forgive me whilst I get all visual for a moment here). This is where I aspire to be, or where I have an element of wishful thinking attached:

Yet it is she (below) who has been my Indicator Card, and a reflection of my reality for quite some years now, (before her it was The High Priestess).

Sigh...why do I feel a little shame in this, I wonder? But with the deepening, I do find a softening. That I am growing softer. I need to learn the lessons I'm learning - slowly, clumsily, sometimes painfully, and even ridiculously. And it's not all a complete bummer. Even when it looks that way. But when I contemplate the Queen of Swords, I do feel a deep sadness.

Forgive any opacity.

Do you have any image/symbol/figure/tarot card you resonate with, or that has deep significance for you?

* Still contemplating the blog reno.

**Erm. Do you have any idea how many times I have collided with the concept/imagery/language connected to Red Tents these past few days? No? Well, let me just say it's all very spooky 'possums. Heheeeee.

Dark Moon Rumblings.

2009-10-16T17:26:00.008+11:00

Once again we head into the Dark Moon time, (this weekend), and it will be in Libra - both my Sun and Moon sign. In fact, this weekend will be my birthday, and the moon will be in the phase and sign it was at the time of my birth, (a lunar and solar return as such). And I'm feeling pulled in two very different directions. On one side towards celebration - fine food and dancing and music and revelry with lovely friends and family. On the other, toward dark moon kind of pursuits and proclivities: retreating, tarot reading, dreaming and meditation, sipping tea containing rose petals, valerian, hops and chamomile; reading, (The Tenderness of Wolves, and re-reading Love in the Time of Cholera). And taking candlelit baths laced with frankincense oil, making plans...all the Aries full moon stuff is coming to fruition and fresh beginnings are calling me. New beginnings of different kinds and flavours.

Image from here.

I've been doing a good deal of solitary walking and meandering. And finking. And I am also realising that I've done something bloody awful to my back (or perhaps I've just worn bits of it out!), and sitting down for any length of time is nearly impossible. Not that I like sitting down for any length of time, really. Oh, btw - may I ask of you dear reader: Chiropractor or Osteopath? I have never yet had to resort to this, and have never suffered back crapola before. I do have an almost visceral fear and revulsion for chiropractics, (apologies to chiropractors everywhere), but then I am a bit of a strange bird. And it's based in little other than vague feelings as I'm quite ignorant regarding the science...

Anyway. Onwards. Or rather, back to the point I was making my way gradually, and painfully tangentially towards...

A little while ago I was having wibbles about blogging, and trying to sift through exactly what it is I've been feeling about it all. I spoke about stepping back and into "real time", which is a much tossed about and perhaps limited term that we've coined for offline life. What I feel is basically this: I like blogging - love blogging - but have outgrown...er (for want of a better word) this blog. Or the way I have been blogging...or something along those lines. Vague, me.

This blog began for reasons that are no longer relevant, and whereas once I felt liberated and secure blogging anonymously, (and it has been an absolute necessity for reasons you may find hard to believe, or which may make me appear utterly paranoid). Yet I now feel slightly inhibited and confined by that online persona. Funny isn't it how things can shift so dramatically?

Writing Witch by Paulina Cassidy.

Also, my antsy-ness towards this bloggy formatty thingie is to do with the fact that if I am sitting on my arse, then I am not running out in the fresh air, or crafting or reading a book, or drinking tequila, (erm...possibly a good thing non?). Much how I felt when I was Doing Academia. Not that I am a big outdoorsy camping type or anything. But I do get a bit like a caged mog when inside for any length of time. And blogging is a highly controlled and mediated format which is both a blessing and a curse. There is nothing like face-to-face spontaneous contact that is not so easily controlled, but is in the moment, and is dependent on a range of communication.

Added to that is a feeling that so much has changed, and I have been experiencing a "deepening" (to quote the lovely Mel), and the shedding of layers, the dropping of masks and old, out-dated survival strategies. And now things don't quite fit the way they once did. There is a dissonance when I turn up here, and I have been feeling irritable with my voice, (I hear a resounding "Oh - you're not the only one, she's always been an annoying pain in the botto that DW!"). In fact, have you ever experienced Blog Snubbing? heheeee...I have ; ) But that's straying from the point again, and has nothing to do with the issue at hand.

But...(please bear with me, me hearrrties!), I have found to my genuine surprise and delight, the most delicious community online, and there is no way I am turning away from that. It's just not the sort of thing that happens every day. Well, it doesn't. It's a rare and beautiful thing. So I have decided that my birthday present to myself will be either a new blog or a blog revamp. A clean bloggy slate. This space may end up getting locked and I'll start again, or I'll just re-do this one. And I may blog as myself rather than as Docwitch. *Looks bemused*. Although you may be shocked to discover that I do bear a striking resemblance to my profile image, although it is a little air-brushed. I'm a bit redder, and my tail is fluffier ; )

Dark Moon blessings to you all and a peaceful weekend.

*it's not always the case. Usually the dark moon energises me and I feel a surge towards creativity and productivity.

Into the Red Tent Go I...

2009-10-11T20:05:00.008+11:00

I've had an extremely floppy day*, and am feeing very, very tired after being out until 3am last night. And quel night! A happy, happy, night as I gathered with a group of lovely, (in fact awesome) women in the Red Tent in order to celebrate our beautiful friend Sol y luna as she moves into the next stage of her life. It is her story to share, or not, but I will say that she is about to marry another beautiful friend of mine. And if there were ever a thing as soulmates it is an idea embodied by these two inspiring spirits.

It was such a fun, hilarious, moving, and joyous evening. My spirit has been topped up by delightful company, yummy food and champagne, (brie and chocolate - waahey!), and we even had a burlesque dance lesson to kick it all off at Bottoms Up Burlesque, (heeeee), before we headed into the Red Tent, (which looked stunning and I wish I had a photie of it, but this is actually it).

Photo from The Divine Feminine. The evening was one I'll keep tucked away in the wee box of treasured memories I keep a close hold of.

Me darlin' The Awakened Heart organised the event and led the ritual. She's an impressive Mistress of Delights and Magickal Thingies, holding the sacred space and leading us through the honouring of our gorgeous sister. The effects of this sacred space, and of participating in a Red Tent ceremony is something unique, and yet so valuable; it creates trust, and allows for opening - for women to connect with one another, and with their own power. It opens us to mystery, to love, to the sharing of stories and much cackling. And also to the inklings we have in day-to-day life, which can be transformed into a more soulful knowledge. A sense of self as well as community can be strengthened and nourished.

And there have been further synchronicities - with Ruth's post, and in this post that calls me home, and in an email I just received today, as well as an online course I have enrolled in, (will talk about this anon). They are all gifts within circles of women, and I continue to be amazed.

Now I shall toddle off to bed at this obscenely early hour (for me). And to you, dear reader, the very best and brightest of blessings.

*Do you ever have those days, when after a somewhat Big Night, you find yourself lolloping on the couch/armchair/bed/piano top, gazing about at the general domestic disorder with an indifference that verges on bliss? And you think to yourself, "oh, look at that pile of dishes, or ooh, there's a big pile of washing there, and the bath needs cleaning", and the spectacle gives you a kind of perverse pleasure because there is just no way you're going to contemplate doing any of it for a second. It becomes an odd source of aesthetic pleasure to gaze upon a mess and watch it go by like...little fluffy clouds of crap. All that was absolutely necessary today was the brewing of chai and the making of guacamole...

Of Awardedness.

2009-10-07T20:41:00.010+11:00

Hello! I may be sounding rather chipper this evening. Despite the fact that I am laid up with horrible back pain, (I have no idea how that happened. It's a little like labour pain, but without the rather delicious 8 pound gift at the end of it...if it ends).

Anyway, I'm a lot more cheerful because I think the Mean Reds I've had lately are beginning to ebb - like an insidious mood-infecting tide. Phew. I think I have alienated a phew people 'round here of late. Erm. Sorry. I can be...intense sometimes. This blog has always been a brain dump for me, and sometimes the crapola that ends up on the page is not always very readable, let alone appealing. And although I ain't going to spend time justifying too much, I will say this: please whatever you do, never take me too literally, or too seriously. I play with ideas, and theories, and I try them on for size, see how they feel, what fits, what doesn't but I don't live and die by any of it. I did make (a very small and insignificant sneeze) academic career out of doing this. And old habits die hard, and I can come across as very...didactic (and just a bit of a wanker). I never go out of my way to offend, I just suffer from foot-in-mouth disease : ) And I'm a messy creature.

So I have been feeling a bit chuffed to have received some awards lately, despite the above, (and which I have been very slack about acknowledging). But here goes...

Quite a while ago now, Mon of Holistic Mama awarded me the Kreativ Blogger award, and then Greekwitch at Dreaming of Rosemary did the same, and now Blackened Phoenix over at The Domestic Witch. Thankyou lovelies! I really appreciate this one, and it's lovely to be considered creative, (or, erm...Kreativ?) by some pretty awesome creatrices.

The roolz:

1. Thank the person(s) who gave this to you, (check)

2. Copy the logo and place it in your blog.

3. Link the person who nommed you, (and I mean that in a nominating way, not in a nibbling way).

4. Name 7 things about yourself that no one would really know.

5. Nom 7 "Kreativ Bloggers"

6. Post links to the 7 blogs you nom.

7. Leave a comment on each of the blogs and let them know you nominated them.

'ere we go then. 7 things about myself that no one would really know.

1. I have a phobic terror of maggots. In that, shake-uncontrollably-and-turn-pale kind of phobia. Go figure. Earthworms however, I am on very friendly terms with. Different psychological representations of decay I suspect. You know, one is a representation of death and decay, the other is a representation of...compost and decay. And I adore compost. In fact, if I was a single woman of marriageable age, I would be inviting eligible young men back to my abode to view my compost. Seduction technique. I has it.

2. When I was four I was sent to live with my grandparents, whilst my mother was sent to bed for the best part of 9 months as she was at risk of losing my unborn baby brother. All I packed in my suitcase were knickers. Loads and loads of knickers. With days of the week written on them, as well as some Noddy ones. This meant that my grandmother had to sew me an entire wardrobe of very pretty dresses. Oops. Never mind. I highly recommend the ol' packing-only-one's-knickers-in-order-to-acquire-new-clobber trick.

3. Oddly perhaps, I look better as a blonde, (oddly because I am a redhead, but I was strawberry blonde for a goodly part of my childhood). But I can't be bothered going the blonde because it would be too high maintenance. And I've always wanted to have dark, flowing locks. Sigh. But I look totally shite with dark hair. A lot like Alan Rickman looks with dark hair as Professor Snape. Well, a bit anyway. Um...

If there was anyone in the world I could just suddenly look like, (and even though I don't go in for the whole celebrity BS thing), it would be Rachel Weisz, who has the dark hair that I have always coveted. But I'll just have to do with myself. Obviously.

4. I think I may be the only person born before 2004 who doesn't like Labyrinth. Even though I always dug David Bowie (Hunky Dory is, perhaps predictably, my fave album of his), I just never have got into that film. And yet I totally dig the Muppets and consider Miss Piggy an early influence. But I remember when I was nearly 16 and watching Labyrinth for the first time in a room full of squealing 15 year old girls in their pyjamas with their teddy bears, and just looking from one friend to another, and wondering how I had got there, and could someone please beam me up and allow me to change into something more comfortable and preferably with a little something to smoke (cynical child me). And now I shall prepare myself for a horde of righteously angry villagers who will arrive at my door in the night with pikes and sticks, a ducking stool, and a large piece of charcoal that shall be used to write "sad freak" across my forehead. Wouldn't be the first time either.

5. I was due to be born 100 years to the day of my maternal great grandmother's birthday, (but I came along 8 days later). And although I never knew her, I'm told we had a number of very spooky similarities, (like birthmarks), and share some very specific likes and dislikes. And like her my favourite flower is the Lilac, which before climate change (grrr) used to flower for my birthday, (very closely followed by roses which I am quite besotted by). But no, I don't think I am her reincarnated or any such thing.

6. I hear dead people. On a fairly infrequent basis I'm happy to report. Um. Let's leave it at that, shall we?

7. I am absolutely no good with eggs. Cooking them I mean. I can cook all sorts of things fairly well I'm told, but I can't do eggs very well at all. My eggs are a bit of a joke. Um...any tips dear ones? On a positive note, this is my favourite chocolate, and if you can possibly procure yourself some, you really, really must try it. Although I would caution that you may become enslaved and it will spoil all other (processed) chocolate for you. Possibly...

Now, as I hath detained you for long enough, I shall compile a list of awardees for this one another time. And now I would like to acknowledge this one...

The gorrrrgeous Mel at From Clutter to Shine, and the super-dooper Mountain Mama of Writing for Real Life hath given me this one...(thankee dear ones).

Shift does happen doesn't it? It's sure happening here at the moment. And it's also one letter away from being a spookily accurate description of my blog.

Whilst there are listed below many of the qualities/values to which I aspire rather than embody, I am just a bit thrilled actually.

* Speak our truth from the heart and tell it like it is.

* Share openly and honestly our true feelings without fear of judgement, Blame or shame.

* We write to share our achievements so others can also share our joy.

* We write about our bad times too, knowing that the love and support of others is around us and perhaps heal another’s pain in the process..

*We are human beings will real feelings and emotions and REFUSE to hide behind a mask.

* We dare to be different

* We are Free Spirits

* We realize that by spilling out, we lighten our load.

* We acknowledge our strengths and weaknesses and don't see them in terms of success or failure.

* We laugh together and cry together

* We are all following our own journey in our own unique way

* Above all else, we may lie on the floor, screaming and kicking, or feel like life is collapsing around us once in a while….but at the end of the day, we drag ourselves up, dust ourselves off and rise to fight another day.

And in order to fight another day (or at least get up for my 6am walk), I am going to head to bed at this juncture. I shall make up a list of bloggers to share the love with...but for now, thankyou sweet ladies...

And in the words of Ophelia, another sheila who was also as mad as a cut snake "Goodnight ladies; goodnight sweet ladies; good night, good night".

Full Moon Musings: Aries Moon

2009-10-05T17:34:00.014+11:00

Or, perhaps, "what would Beethoven do?" Um. Will get to that one anon.

Well. This was the post I was going to write two days ago. But because of full moon shenanigans, it just didn't happen. It didn't happen yesterday either, (and to be completely pedantic, it was yesterday around 6pm Australian daylight savings time that the moon was full here).

But that's by the by really. This full moon in Aries stuff has been brewing for a long time. These things always do don't they? Bear with me, as this is going to be written from a very personal angle, but I do understand if this is going to bore you to tears, or just be somewhat incomprehensible.

Big. Red. Full. Moon.

I'd be very interested to hear what your thoughts or experiences have been with this moon dear reader. Have you been feeling the Aries el moono vibes this time 'round? How has it affected you? That is, assuming you go in for all that palaver, but I do assume, if you're going to bother persevering with this post, you probably do have some kind of respec', or an element of curiosity for all that woo-bendy esoteric stuff.

According to The Knowledge, (erm?) the full moon tends to amplify many of the qualities of the sign that it is in, (sorry - I don't want to be telling you stuff wot you already know 'ere). So all that Aries stuff - the no-nonsense, straightforward, courageous, energetic, pioneering, impatient, passionate, ambitious and freedom loving, (like other fire signs), qualities, and that which is concerned with the Self and the courage to be one's self, and to trust the self. All qualities I am rather fond of. I do like Aries very much indeed. But an Aries full moon has always been a difficult one for me.* In fact, I could go as far as to say that the full moon in Aries is usually always the most challenging and downright difficult of the year. And this one was a ripper folks. I will be keeping things fairly opaque for the sake of privacy here.

Anyway, it threw me upside-down and shook me until my teeth rattled.

Let me contextualise. Although, those of a more scientific bent will ask where the blazes the context is here. I should say, let me contextualise with some astro-jive. On a personal level that is, (there is a whole lot going on at the moment with good ol' Saturn and Venus is very busy too, but I am no Astrologer, and I am just wanting to record my own personal reflections here anyway).

So. The Moon has her moon in Aries, (and this could get confusing - as I refer to both my daughter, and heavenly bodies). That makes for some interesting emotional dramas. And I have a moon in Libra (not directly opposite hers though), and am someone who prefers peaceful dealings and quietness over drama and outbursts. The Moon, a generally sunny kid, a smiley Gemini social butterfly has a very passionate, intense edge to her. And although I'm not going to stomp all over that, I'm not going to be stomped on either! But I do run for cover now and again. To my local Mexican bar for shots of tequila. Ahem.

Anyway, I swear there has indeed been some luna madness in this household that is generally very out of character. Or rather that which is already there was pumped up 100 fold. Interestingly, today, things are back to their usual calm state. The lunatic tide has ebbed. Thank f&&k. The past month has seen me withdrawing and feeling quite depressed, to the point where I haven't made contact with people much, (owe many an email - erm...apologies to those I do owe emails and/or phone calls). Oh, poor me. I've also been wondering about this homeschool thing and wondering how much of my self, (and for how long) I can give over to this. For as much as I adore aspects of it, I feel called to other things, and I want to have work of my own. I can get little more than the odd blog post accomplished at this juncture. Another source of grief actually. At times I feel utterly lost.

Another Aries aspect thingy I have going on is Chiron in Aries, in the 5th house. Now, that may mean bloody nothing to you and fair enough too. For those who are wondering what on this good green earth she is banging on about, Chiron is the planet known as the "Wounded Healer", and it's in my house of creativity - always a biggie for me. Beethoven apparently had this aspect, (along with gazillions of other people I might add, so please don't think I'm comparing myself to bloody Beethoven. Deaf, wounded, musical genius that I am. Heh). I didn't know this until a few days ago. And all this past week I have been playing loads and loads of Beethoven. I mean, loads. And I haven't really for years.** It's been the only thing that seemed to help the Depression and help shift some of that sad, lethargic energy. And to remind me of who I am, (if that doesn't sound too, too wanky and ridiculous. Which I know it does).

And I was reading about Beethoven, because I have been listening most of all to his 5th. And then I happened upon this bit of information about Chiron in the houses. And I thought "my word, that's a bit of a coincidence, wot?***

My Chiron also happens to conjunct The Moon's moon. This full moon brought all that Chiron stuff to the fore - feelings of unworthiness - particularly on a creative level and on a parenting level. Loads of grief. The kind that has left me feeling winded. And anger. Over losses - of loved ones, lost babies, and old identities.

But there's also anger around the fact that I manage to frequently, (but by no means always), draw people to me who are quite arrogant, who tell me what I need or need to do and set themselves up as knowing more than me, as Experts - who are quite competitive people. This stuff may come from their control issues or insecurities, but, despite my efforts to deflect it,(and I usually let a lot go which is often a mistake), it does somewhat diminish my confidence. And my confidence in my creative abilities. I'm not a doormat, but I think I give the impression that I'm a bit clueless and easily dominated, when much of that demeanour is more of a defence mechanism. Like a very stupid Red Setter who rolls on its back with its mouth wide open, as if to say, "hey, look, I'm stoopid, and completely harmless, so don't bite me ok?". Limited I realise.

Yep. I've really been feeling that Chiron energy.

Before I go on, my cringe over this kind of self-absorbed speak means I feel the need to clarify (or is it perhaps justify...hehe) a few things. And you may be thinking, "well, she's a whinger, what's she got to complain about?". Fair point. In my family, (my mother's side), one of the worst things a person could be is "selfish", (the most scathing and witty of verbal attacks in my family were reserved for the "selfish" and "greedy"). Artists in particular were considered selfish, (among other diabolical things), and most of my father's family are/were artists/creatives, and were considered to be really a bad lot. My mother was in many ways, a thwarted, frustrated (and very angry) artist. A close eye was kept on me as I was one of those "highly strung types", and needed to be taught to be sensible. And such like.

I was raised to be someone who held to the good ol' Scottish Presbyterian values of service to others, and to think of "all those puir starving bairns in Africa", to be grateful for what I have. And so I should be grateful, and for the most part am. And I have at times worked in jobs that have been about helping, if not poor starving Africans, poor starving Cambodians and Indonesians etc. And I've seen some truly terrible things that are impossible to forget, and know that for the most part, I have it pretty damned good. But I think a lot of the time those arguments can venture into the Puritanical, and certainly lack compassion for some of the very real suffering that those who are not starving to death, or in war-torn situations can experience. None of us are immune to suffering are we? Buddhism gets this one quite well doesn't it?

What this rearing of mine has also effected though, is that I have found myself over and over again in service to others, and to often quite selfish people - putting the needs of others first. Particularly the creative needs of others. Not as some kind of glorious martyrdom, but in the spirit of "reason" and the ever-so-deadly, "compromise". How many of us have done this, I wonder? Aries can ask us "how can I best be in the world, and how can this 'I' be of service, whilst also freely expressing the self, and my own will and desires, rather than being a reflection of others?". It's a balancing of energies that is an echo of its opposite Libra.

Anyway, there have been rumblings and Beethoven-esque thunderings, but now that the dust is settling, (or is it the fog clearing?), there have been other manifestations of this Aries Stuff too. Aries is about the birth of new projects and ideas. And although for many of you this is a Harvest moon, for us 'ere in't Nether regions of the planet, it is a Spring moon - full of flux and instability. A fiery, revitalising precursor to the beginning of the warmer months. And in Aries, there are bursts of new energy, vitality and warmth, and a clarion call to gird thy loins, (erk), and take courage to push on out of the comfort zone. No more putting things off. Adventures to be had. And all that.

Thought I would leave you with a glimpse of my quick full moon tarot reading last night...

Don't know if that pic is big enough for you to see what those cards are. So, they are from left to right: "Rebirth"(XX), The Lord (IV - and note in reverse there is a suggestion of Chiron), and Prince of Pentacles. The Fool (O) at the top is one I drew as an afterthought, on instinct. Make of it what thou wilst.

Um. Et vous? How's it all been for youse lately?

* possibly because I have both Sun and Moon in Libra. Whatever the case, I have very low energy during this full moon.

** Interestingly (?) the last time I consistently listened to any Beethoven was in the weeks immediately after The Moon's birth, and I would experience intense feelings of transcendent, ecstatic love for her. What others would refer to as Divine Love. And, even writing this seems so silly to me, but I did experience this as white light, and I would feel as though white light was shooting through my body during these moments when the music was playing and I was holding her.

***On a completely different topic, and seemingly unrelated, but maybe not, is this fascinating post over at Lisa's (Mommymystic) that kind of blindsided me. In a good way. I think. I didn't even comment because I have no idea how to articulate what it is I feel about it. Recognition? I'm yet to work this one out. It's kicked off some strange and powerful synchronicities too.

And the Room of Doom is No Longer.

2009-09-27T16:10:00.008+10:00

The house has been very quiet this weekend, (apart from the tango music blaring out from the rekkid player), as The Moon has had a sleep-over at her best friend's house, and having returned, is currently quite under the weather. She's developed a cold from burning the candle at both ends...er, as much as one can burn the candle at both ends at the age of seven.

So she's been resting on the couch reading and listening to stories, snacking on lemon, orange and poppyseed muffins (yummo), and generally taking it easy after days of being beside herself with excitement and Secret Plans, (which included the packing of "ball dresses" et al). But now it's back to Winter which has once again delivered an almighty sting in her tail. It's been (an Australian version of) freezing over the weekend. And I've had a large pot of broccoli soup (from the lovely Apples for Jam recipe book) bubbling away on't stove. And bread in the oven. All is well in the world when there is soup and bread non?

I did in fact intend to post a Bits and Bobs post on Friday. But these days I am finding it a challenge to get to this spot on the 'pooter for long enough to do anything much at all. Plans go astray - or completely out the window. There's been a lot of behind-the-blog stuff going on here too that not only fills up my time, but also my head. We're mulling over plans for the future - where we may live one day, lots of crafting, (particularly secret crafting I can't talk about...hehe), school hols, staying up in't mountains over the Spring Equinox, and then all the usual day-to-day trivinalia: trivial stuff on the margins.

:: The school holidays have meant that Moon's school friends have been liberated (hehe) for two weeks and there have been sleep-overs, lots of playing, and going to see films. We went to see Up on Friday with one of her friends and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. The version we saw was in 3D and at one point, (which involved an action sequence with a blimp and high altitude), I found myself with sweaty palms and a high pitched giggle. Sheltered, me.

:: The Moon and I have been watching Yellowstone - the most fabulous doco series on the ABC on Sunday nights. It comprises of 3 episodes and each one focuses on a season within the Yellowstone National Park. We've seen the first one, "Winter" so far, and tonight "Spring" will be screened. It's stunning stuff, and quite mesmerising, (we were greatly amused by the nefarious dealings of the wily coyote as he stole the otters' fish from right under their noses. He looked completely ridiculous running off with a fish nearly half his size in his mouth). Anyway, we're loving it.

:: I made the best gluten free carrot cake this weekend. So very much worth the effort. I just happened to have all the ingredients in the house by some happy accident. The recipe is from Gluten Free Goddess over here. Only difference is I used a different brand of self-raising GF flour, and used my own cream cheese icing recipe, (one without butter). It's so good to eat whilst sitting in my armchair, with a quilt on my knee, (and inevitably a cat on my quilt), and watching Trueblood. Ah...bliss.

:: The Moon has officially given up ballet as the term ended. Sadly, she detests it now, and I feel that it's largely due to the ballet mistress, (read Mistress of Pain), who despite being barely into her 20's is very old school about discipline. Moon's way of rebelling is to "not smile" in class. So enough of that, I certainly wasn't prepared to push it, and it was only ever to be for as long as she was enjoying it. I asked her if she wants to do some other kind of dance instead and she's dead keen to try out belly dancing. But I'm having trouble finding a school that's vaguely in our area that teaches belly dancing for children. Working on it.

:: Am thinking that I may well have to get some kind of jobby-wobby. Or try and kick-start the home-based business ideas, (or at least one of them) that I had and which went on the backburner with the homeschooling venture. I just have to get near it all. How do people do this I wonder?

:: I'm putting out feelers for a new yoga teacher (and class), as there's nothing quite like attending a good class to deepen my practice. I'm also thinking more and more about doing the yoga teachers training course that I've had my eye on for years. It costs a lot of money I don't currently have, but who knows...I'd definitely like to move in that direction at some point. But I'll write that yoga post another time.

:: Every time I put on a new pair of socks I manage to step in a glob of porridge. There's nothing quite like the "squish" of cold oatmeal through a sock. I always gasp because it has the same feel as a large slug or other more unspeakable things. I believe globs of porridge actually follow me about the house, looking for the opportunity to make contact with my sock. And homeschooling is not affecting my grip on reality at all.

:: As far as cures for the Mean Reds go, there's nothing quite like watching Jane Austen. Which at best makes me an escapist, and at worst, thoroughly deluded. Great dollops of chilli can help the blues.

:: We have finally, finally...finally sorted the Room of Doom. It took a lot of effort painting, (white because it's a tiny, dark internal room), constructing shelves, and sorting through endless files and culling years of crapola. It was very cathartic if more than a little overwhelming. And very long-drawn out. It is now a fairly ordered, civilised and very pleasant place to hang out, listen to music, read a book, and...sew. Oh joy! My fabric (the Preciousss) is arranged and so too all my gear. I managed to capture it before we manage to mess it up again. Just so I can prove that it's real, (can you tell I've been frolicking on Picnik? heh). Oh and I don't have a "before" shot, which is a shame, because you'd see how very, very different it all looks now compared to what it was previously when it was just a grim dumping ground for cds and folders and...anything that wouldn't fit anywhere else.

'ere tis. I'm not much good at the wide-angle shots. Or rather, I prefer to blame my camera. Ahem. And yes, the cds do extend downstage past the armchair on the left. I'm slightly concerned that this room is a shrine to Ikea, but this stuff was cheaper than second-hand things we looked at (in our area thrifted stuff is waaaaay overpriced. Cynically so).

A slightly closer view of my crafty corner. All that green happened quite by accident. I did a smash and grab through Ikea and came out with loads of green.

Corner view of crafty corner.

And our living room table can be free of all my sewing stuff, vying as it was for space with paints and journals and music and books and all the stuff a homeschooled child needs to be able to have in reach. Oh and there's space for food there now too. How novel!

So now I can actually Do Crafting in a space all my own. I was sitting in the armchair gazing at all this today and thinking how I have wanted a space of my own like this for years. And although it's still a work in progress, it's such a bloody good feeling, I don't mind admitting.

But now I have to think what else to call this space. I can hardly keep referring to it as the Room of Doom now, can I?

On Clothes: In My Wardrobe

2009-09-20T22:26:00.007+10:00

First off, thanks for all the comments you have been leaving here lately, and please forgive my rudeness in not responding to you. I do appreciate your comments, and I must say that in regards to my recent homeschooling wibbles, they made a big difference in terms of me feeling less, well, isolated. Which is sometimes what I do feel. I would just like to pursue this homeschooling lark without great dollops of ideology. Religious or otherwise.

But that good ol' equilibrium is feeling restored after the past few days having been spent recharging the batteries and resurrecting the more neglected aspects of myself. Walking in the Spring sunshine with good friends, visiting libraries and meeting friends in cafes and talking about travel - um, theirs not mine unfortunately. Sitting on a tram (alone! hurrah!) and writing and reading and zipping through my neighbourhood, gazing out at the carnival of colour and movement - of people, traffic, shops, restaurants, and bars: Mediterranean grocers, Thai restaurants, hand-craft and artisan shops, comfy pubs, Mexican bars, second-hand bookstores, belly-dancing supply shops, Gothic clothing shops, florists, and wholefood co-ops. I spent time walking down streets where a sudden gust of wind would bring with it a hit of jasmine and blossoms, and music from a window - someone jamming just because it's Spring time and the spirit moves.

I've had a number of posts swimming about in my head, (including one on my yoga practice, which I'm actually a little nervous about posting, but I'll talk about that another time), but seemingly never the time to actually post them.

So tonight I'm going to do something incredibly frivolous, along the lines of those voyeuristic play-alongs such as "what's in yer fridge?" Um. Yeeess. What's in yer wardrobe? Or rather, what's in my wardrobe? Feel free to play along if this isn't too mind-numbing for you...

Do the clothes maketh the woman? Not sure about this one, it's really all a matter of priorities isn't it? What does your wardrobe say about you? Or do you feel resolutely that it does not say a thing about you? Not all of us are going to express ourselves through our clothes, which are a beacon to the world really aren't they?

Although I do love clothes and whatnot, I have to say that I'm no fashionista. And I think that often the way I dress says something completely contrary to who I am. People love to put people in boxes don't they? What image comes to mind when you try to conjure a picture of an academic, or a scientist for instance? Frumpy? Lots of brown corduroy? Aren't these outdated stereotypes that hardly ever prove to be true? When people have tried to figure out where I'm placed in that dubious occupational food chain, they have often asked if I'm a dancer, or an actor, heaven forbid! Sorry - no offence to actors, but I've known a few in my time. Bloody drama queens...hehehe ; ) I suspect that my love of colour and scarves has something to do with these assumptions. Time and time again I see expressions of shock and surprise when I have told them I teach/dabble in academics/stay home with the Moon/wander the streets in confusion. Boxes. They hardly ever fit do they? Unless someone is dressing to type - as in corporate culture where there are strict rules about that sort of thing, (which I never seem to be able to follow, let alone comprehend).

Clothes for me are not a fetish, (although fabric definitely is), but they are in the category of things that I derive great pleasure from along with food, booze, red lippy and a good massage. And when I was 18 I was accepted into a very reputable fashion design course I never took up.

I find that I prefer to keep a fairly lean closet (by some standards at least). I can get overwhelmed by Stuff, and I don't like loads of choice, (somewhat like an over-stimulated toddler). In fact, I need a very low-stimulus environment in order to feel happy. This extends to how much stuff I own.

Wardrobe snapshot - I don't think you really want/need to see this in greater detail. You get the picture don't you? Oh, and note that there isn't an overdose of Melbourne black? There once was I must admit.

But with the relatively few clothes I do own I like them to be quite colourful. Also, being a redhead, my entire life people have tried to dress me in muted, earthy colours. All very well and good those earthy tones. But I just look awful in 'em. Sickly. So if there can be a moment for just a wee lecture here? 'ere goes: please, I entreat you to not attempt to lump all of us redheads together and throw at us willy-nilly the browns, pumpkins, and greens, (ok - I do love green, but not khakhi). Some of us suit that stuff, others of us who were born on the blonder side of red usually don't fare well at all wearing them, and tend to end up with a complexion resembling Professor Snape's after a particularly disappointing day. We like bright clear reds and roses and hyacinth and the colours of the Spring. There. Done. Ahem.

Note absence of stripey tights, (they are tucked away safely in my dresser).

I have to admit that much of my wardrobe is reflective more of whimsy than practicality, and much of what I'm drawn to is often inspired by literature and film, rather than reflecting any kind of style that is distinctly my own. For instance, a character in a novel might be wearing a particularly colourful shawl, or an empire line frock, so I'll be drawn to that stuff for a while, or be inspired to have a go at making it, or rather to capture echoes of that style rather than literal interpretations, for as long as I'm immersed in that story or preoccupied by that character. Reading is often a highly visual and tactile experience for me as much as a cerebral one.

And incidentally I never buy fashion magazines.

What about you? What do clothes mean to you? Do you feel they reflect who you are? Or is dressing a game? Something playful? Artistic? Functional? A chore? What is your relationship to clothes? What do you love?

Domestic(ated) Bliss and Other Insanities.

2009-09-15T20:22:00.007+10:00

It's probably not a good night for blogging, as I'm thoroughly exhausted in that "Oh-I-just-put-cheese-in-my-wallet-and-my-keys-in-the-fridge", kind of way. That slipping sideways off one's chair tired. Keyboard imprint on forehead. Even little decisions have been just too much. I had such conundrums about what to have for dinner this evening, and I crouched down in front of my pot cupboard and just stared into it. Looking for Answers. And then I started singing. Yes. It has come to that. I sing to my pots. Not even tiredness is an adequate excuse. In a less enlightened era I'd be marked for the asylum.

But as this fatigue has been with me nearly every night for the past week, I thought I might as well just go ahead and just post something. The post I was going to post on Friday. Plus some. Blogging also just helps me...decompress sometimes. Yet another bloody long post follows.

I have emerged from a hellish weekend. Gah. Don't ask, and I won't bore you. It's certainly added spice to my garden variety First World wibbles. But after rottenness such as I experienced, it's like waking up after a birth, or a death - or both- and feeling exhausted and fragile after my little world hath been rattled on its axis. Again. A merry-go-round. And the new day has that strangely illuminated quality - calm and utterly, utterly indifferent. Of course.

But it's not all doom and gloom, although I'm probably being so opaque here that it must read that way. Anyway, true to form, I promise to remain completely random.

:: The Moon and I went to see Ponyo together the other day, (a new film by Miyazaki) and we were both quite enraptured and entranced.

:: And an altogether more adult diversion for me has been finally catching up with season 1 of Trueblood. (I know, it's probably old news). Anyway, it's a series, (written by Alan Ball of Six Feet Under fame), about vampires et al set in a small town in modern day Louisiana. Oh so deliciously Southern Gothic, (the trees! I just love the vegetation...erm...does anyone know what I mean?), and yet also camp, and it gleefully plays with all sorts of stereotypes and cliches. I have thoroughly enjoyed this one, (ok, I'll admit, I'm hooked), even though there are aspects I find irritating. What's new? Anyway, it's infinitely more satisfying and intelligent than that bloody Twilight series, (elements of which I do find fascinating, and about which I am trying to pull together an academic article).

So. Trueblood. It's so bloody funny too. And I think it's also kind of funny that among the core actors are a New Zealander as the central character Sookie (Anna Paquin), a Brit as the romantic hero, and an Awwwstralian as a main character also. All with pretty damned convincing Louisiana accents (although I do hear a Kiwi twang with Paquin - possibly because I'm so attuned to that accent - a difficult one to hide beneath American inflections). Oh and I think I am in love with the character of Sam. Woof.

:: Speaking of the South and Southern Gothic, excuse me a moment whilst I get all esoteric and past-life on yo asses. Ahem. Feel free to leave at this juncture.

Ok. Anyone still here?

Anyway, as awkward as I feel about talking about this (hey - I have a very, very snarky critical brain ok?), but I'm pretty certain I once dwelt there. Very vivid dreams and "memories" I had as a child relate to that, and long before I knew of such a place intellectually. And, I'm wary of offending anyone with this, because I realise that it's a traumatic period of history that continues to be real for many. But when I was 16 my mother had a minor operation in which she was anaesthetised. Three days after the operation she suddenly lapsed into an accent that I have never heard her assume before, (background: my mother is notoriously bad at accents, and my father and I who can do accents fairly convincingly used to roll on the floor in stitches whenever she tried any on). Anyway, she was talking to me about something completely unrelated and then lapsed into this very thick, deeply idiosyncratic and utterly authentic accent - she sounded like a black woman from the Deep South of about 150 years ago, and she was saying that she was going to head down to the bottom field to work, and described what she was going to do in great detail, and she was asking my permission to do so. Which kind of rattled me on a number of levels, and recalled dreams that I've had. This lasted for no more than a minute or so, but the hair stood up on the back of my neck. And then my mother returned to our previous conversation as though nothing had happened. She has absolutely no memory of this, and knowing her very well, I believe her. And if this is the case, well, it would really explain our relationship. And I really don't mean to sound flippant.

Um. Moving right along. And yes, I'm stone cold sober and will no doubt regret that in the morning.

:: I've been trying to read too many things at once, which tends to make me very flustered. Books on Buddhist teachings, yoga books, books on art, tarot books, gardening books, novels, (finally getting to the Pullman His Dark Materials), books on Waldorf philosophy, and fairy tales. I mean, I usually tackle lots of different things at once, and frequently I can be found grazing on a pleasurably diverse bibliographic diet. But really. Sometimes there just needs to be a little bit of focus. Particularly when I don't have oodles of time for reading. I feel the need for a concentrated and absorbed bout of reading, of which I have felt quite deprived of late.

:: But...there's always some time isn't there? Which leads me into a rather elegant segue, (if I do say so myself), and that is Mon's Book Club Mamas.

In Mon's words, "it's an online book club for mamas who love reading". Now, I have to admit, I usually have a bit of a cringe about book clubs. Partly because for so long discussing books was my work. But this time I'd love to join in, and there's a sumptuous feast of a book list, and some very fine reading companions. I think there may even be copious cups of tea, (or...insert tipple of choice here) involved along the way. We're starting with one I haven't read, The Tenderness of Wolves by Stef Penney. So if you're interested in joining us, check out the details over here at Chewing a Leaf. Because there's always time for reading isn't there?
:: I'm having a few issues with milieu in regards to homeschooling. Despite the fact that I'm keeping company with some lovely people, who are very sweet and kind, (blimey! That sounds sooo patronising!), I do find myself feeling really...depressed after being in their company. They tend to think in absolutes and have a much more defined...belief system than I do, particularly when it comes to religion. Ahem. So, although they are quite moderate, I think they would be horrified by what I'm about if it were known. Whereas, I don't care what you are or what label you give yourself, or what you believe, as long as you don't thump anyone and you're not a racist, misogynist hate-ridden bigot - be my guest.
Um, anyway, these people are none of the above, (from what I can tell), but I still often come home and I just want to scream, and dance naked, and listen to loud music, and drink tequila in order to balance out the energy. And you may think the lady doth protest too much, but I really don't do that as often as it may seem. But I feel as though I can hardly breathe. And I realise that is completely childish and irrational of me. I tend to feel bad about that. I also tend to feel as though I am boxing in my energies, reining it all in and making myself smaller somehow in order for others to not be made to feel uncomfortable, (not a good way to be, and I'm hardly slow in realising this. It's a life-long mechanism). And in the homeschool gatherings I have attended, the women are on one side of the thing discussing ladylike things like...domestic shit, and the men are on the other side of the room having manly conversations about...cricket and shit. I move between the two groups, but I don't think this is usually the done thing. I have to say, I find this state of affairs a little extraordinary. And it's this sort of thing that can really kick off my involuntary eye rolling. Domestic animal I may be, but good little domesticated woman I am not.
I am trying to step back as am feeling that my time and energy are being eroded. Not least of all my sanity. And I get very anxious about that. I have always felt that the role of mama is a gift to me, but not a calling. Not my vocation. The deal I made with myself about homeschooling was that I was not going to sacrifice that essential part of me. I still need to function on a certain level, and be challenged on a certain level, (and I don't believe that homeschooling should preclude this in the least). Or I become a very Scary Person. Which I am at the moment. Erm, how about we leave it at that shall we?
:: And how do you homeschooling mamas out there create space and time for yourselves? I'd love to hear how you balance things...and I wish a number of you lived closer and we could share a cuppa.
:: Speaking of homeschooling, the Moon and I are trying to re-start her blog and make that happen more on a regular basis. So this week she painted zombies, (with beatific smiles), and did a little post about that. We is doin' edyoookashun 'ere in't we?
:: Had an old friend - or rather a friend of long-standing acquaintance - over for dinner t'other night. She's a committed Buddhist, and we had an excellent conversation on philosophy and altruism and the idea of living a life, as a middle class, 1st world citizen that is centred not on ourselves but helping others (in 3rd and 4th world, poverty-stricken scenarios) - in very grassroots, tangible ways. She has some wonderful and practical ideas. I was talking about how I will never give a cent or any of my time to anything connected with the UN, (a completely corrupt and rotten to the core organisation), and told her of my cynicism regarding NGO's, (not all, but many share some seriously problematic and systemic process-related issues which can ensure that corrupt elements flourish). We had a lot of fun thinking about ways of by-passing these problems. But all fine in theory. I still think some of her ideas could be workable.
:: I was reading the Awakened Heart's blog and thinking what a good idea that "30 Days of Happiness" is. I'm usually way too cynical for that kind of thing, but I figure this might just be a good idea, and could be challenging in all sorts of ways. And hey, it's got to be better than "30 days of misery", or "30 days of big fat boredom" doesn't it? I may give it a go and see if it gets me taking more photies. Because I've been wanting to get my camera out more lately.
:: And I'm looking forward to hanging with the mountain girls (Awakened Heart and her Beanie) next week as me and the Moon trot off into the hills for an overnighter.
:: The sewing continues, with a huge list of projects in the works. Far too long a list considering I have Other Things I need the time to sink my teeth into. And people have put in requests left, right and centre. Crafting is becoming a chore. I think I shall keep the fact that I wield a sewing machine very quiet from now on. That was a whinge wasn't it? Please excuse me. Demned furball.
:: I've started early morning walks with lovely friends Sol y luna and the Ginger Hobo. This morning was sublime, with the sun rising over the trees, and a mist over the water down by the creek. It was almost bucolic bliss in an urban setting : )
And that's all tonight folks.

Fifteen Films.

2009-09-08T20:41:00.006+10:00

Still from Pan's Labyrinth, (2006)

A friend on Facebook tagged me with this fun filmy thing. I hardly ever go on Facebook, (I just have this irrational, neurotic thing I about it - just can't embrace the application at all). But then this cool stuff turns up, (which is more indicative of the person who sent it to me than Facebook), and I thought it was a good idea for a blog thing instead.

So. Da rules: list 15 films that you've seen that have really stayed with you, and that will always stick with you. The first 15 that you can recall in no more than 15 minutes, (gah! I know - it's quite hard, but a lot of fun). They won't necessarily be "Great Films", or even the ones that you enjoyed the most. So it's not a definitive list of best all-time films. How hard would that be? *Shudder*. This requires a response that is altogether more...visceral rather than intellectual. So some of these I viewed as a child, or in my profligate youth. Not that I'm any less profligate now. Perhaps more so...um...

Here are mine.

1. The Blue Dahlia

2. Dead Man

3. Withnail and I

4. The Motorcycle Diaries

5. Gadjo Dilo

6. The Falcon and the Snowman

7. The Revolutionary Road

8. Roman Holiday

9. A Streetcar Named Desire

10. Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

11. Pan's Labyrinth

12. Three Colours Blue

13. Romeo and Juliet (1968 - Zefferelli version)

14. Sense and Sensibility (Alan Rickman - phwoarrrr!)

15. The Constant Gardener.

And there are so many more...and who knows what 15 I would've come up with on any other given day? But I shall leave it at that. Feel free to play along if this appeals to you.

Ooooh! Was that actually a short post or what? Singular. Heheee...

Goodly Remedies To Stayeth A Melancholy Humour. And the Perils of Spring Cleaning.

2009-09-03T21:25:00.011+10:00

Not quite sure what I'm doing here again tonight, as I'm feeling pretty low at the moment. And without any clear ideas as to what to write about. Don't worry, I won't start whingeing...hopefully. Hehe.

Last night I was feeling pretty uninspired when I posted, (and reading over it, it really shows - didn't work for me. I was in a pretty dark mood too). But earlier this week I decided that I was going to try and post on a near daily basis to see where this would take me. This is also in order to try and gain some blogging momentum*- to see if I can draw a thread through this thing and let the thoughts fall where they may. Not quite stream-of-consciousness, (I won't do that to you, I promise). Gratuitous blogging is something I'm frequently guilty of, and that may be partly the point...or not.

Um.

Bloody hell.

In truth I'm feeling a bit winded at the moment. And not least the actual wind that's been howling 'round the treetops outside, and which has frayed tempers and whipped up nervous systems in this household. The Moon has been over-excited about a sleep-over this Saturday, and thus managed to lose the plot somewhat this evening when she just couldn't calm herself down enough. She's been sick too, so I think she's a bit out of whack. I just can't imagine where she got this from!

Finally, when I thought it was time, after she had a cry, I gave her a dose of Emergency Essence (Australian Bush Flower remedy) in the end followed by a very long cuddle, with whispered reassurances. But nothing was going to work until that moment. It was as though she was looking for release and couldn't calm down until she got there. So it's a matter of riding things out.

Happily, this is a very rare event, as The Moon is a mostly happy, gentle child and I am grateful for that, but when it does happen, it's a bit traumatic. I wouldn't call it a tantrum, it's more of a nervous system build-up, and it ends up taking over her body, to the point where she is sobbing and saying "Mama, I just don't know what's going on with me".

And now Hurricane Moon is asleep, and the house is quiet again. The cat is curled up in her bed behind the armchair, snoring. Peace is restored to this tiny universe. Yet I feel as though something is happening, and it's just hiding in the margins, and I can't put my finger on it.

There is change in the air - and it's at least partially related to the change of season. It's really stirring us up here. And Spring cleaning has been stirring a few things up too. It can be downright dangerous too, having narrowly missed falling off a chair as I was getting a heavy box down from the top of my wardrobe).

Anyway, the things you come across when you're cleaning! Or rather, Spring cleaning. Digging deep beneath the dust, delving into boxes that have remained unopened for, well, years. And what emerges are old sewing patterns - a gorgeous dress I remember making and wearing when I was 23, (and the effect of said dress when I wore it...ahem); and music I haven't heard in years, old photos of friends and loved ones - some no longer living, others on the other side of the world. Part of my wedding dress, (from 1995...eek). These are the things that can stir and shake us up, surprise us with old emotions, feelings of restlessness, instability. Grief. Or bemusement. As in "why in the name of this good green earth did I get rid of that sublime red velvet cap I wore in 1993???" (um, probably because I just wouldn't look cute in it now, but still...). And "who on earth do I have my arm around in that picture...?" And, "Oh and there's my bloody annoying housemate who was such a pain she made me look decidedly un-neurotic". Or, "I danced naked with them and then swam out to an island in the middle of the night...".

So, some of these memories and the emotions that accompany them are quite welcome. Some not. But they can take you by surprise when all you thought you were in for was a bit of dusting and possibly some resulting hayfever. Even in this tiny, unassuming little home, as in so many other there lie layers of history, emotion, and memory. Those secret rivers flowing beneath the quiet little stream of a life.

I do keep underestimating the sensitivity factor - The Moon and I can be extremely sensitive to our environments, and even subtle shifts in the weather, atmosphere, or changes in the home and the people around us. We feel a lot of this a good deal of the time, and feel it in others also. But often I find myself down-playing it, and concealing it a bit because I don't want to be too precious about it. However, most people do experience this, yet maybe not always "consciously". But it's certainly a factor here at the moment in churning up the household dust, and its ghosts, so to speak.

And this wind is crazy-making - those winds leading up to and around the Spring Equinox here in Melbourne can be nothing short of insane. Sometimes I'm elated with it, energised - feeling as though I can fly with it; at other times I just feel surges of anger and impatience. Even mania. According to Traditional Chinese Medicine Spring is dominated by the element of Wood, which relates to the liver and the emotions of anger and impatience. It may be time for a dose of the ol' milk thistle. Silybum marianum. Yes, that's right dear reader, "Silly bum" as it is frequently referred to. Pretty powerful healer when it comes to the liver, (if large bodies of research, and clever people like naturopaths are anything to go by).

Speaking of naturopaths, I'm going to visit one next week, as I prepare myself for the next stage of my life, whatever that may be. So the Spring clean extends to the poor ol' soulskin as I embark upon being alcohol free for a while, and take various prescribed herbs and vitamins. Perhaps that will help the grumpies. And the melancholia. Not that it's particularly bad, but it is often flickering there around the edges. Has it ever not, I wonder?

But you know what really helps, (well, me anyway)? Dancing. Even when there's resistance, even when dancing brings up anger, and discomfort, and fear, it helps to keep dancing and move it through. And it shifts and works its way out. Feral, completely-insane-silly-dancing included of course. The more feral and insane the better. The kind of dancing which has your daughter giggling with delight (and possibly an element of disbelief that a parent of hers is really that pathetic), and your cat pinning its ears back in contempt and scorn. This kind of dancing is a very Good Thing.

*And a few minutes ago I read a post by Earthenwitch who was talking about how blogging on a regular basis actually helps with the flow of ideas - and I tend to agree. The less I blog, the more creaky I feel and I lose momentum with ideas.

August in Review

2009-09-02T22:07:00.006+10:00

Didn't get to this last month. I suppose I was having a kind of "blogging retreat"...of sorts. Otherwise known as an interwebs tanty.

So, 'ere goes, (trying to keep this one short and sweet after some very loooong ranty posts lately). Format courtesy of Mon o'er at Holistic Mama...

A thought: that although I am very certain that I'm doing the best thing for now in choosing to homeschool The Moon, I'm still finding my feet, and also recognise that I'm trading one set of freedoms for another. Being a naturally active witchy-poo, I'm feeling more physically confined, and am having to restructure my days so that I get make the opportunity to have a gallop, which makes me feel so much more myself.

A Sound: loads of great music on the cd player, (including Bhangra beats), and music revisited that I haven't heard in, oh, 12 years. Sometimes this induces hysterical laughter in me, at others a kind of winding grief as I'm taken very viscerally back to the past. This has been interspersed with the sounds of The Moon's talking book cds that accompany some of her books - such as Heidi or Alice in Wonderland. Woohoo. Mad tea party up here this month, I can tell you.

A taste: Palomas, (tequila cocktails that contain grapefruit juice - very healthy...ahem), and this chocolate cake, (which is actually surprisingly benign despite its taste and appearance). Come on now, you know you want to...*pushes cake under reader's nose*.

An image:

A cosy spot on me couch - late Winter and late at night, surrounded by books, crafts and with a glass of wine. Ahhhhh...

A scent: hyacinth on my windowsill, and then later sprays of jasmine all through the house, their perfume takes me by surprise and leaves me with memories, (some a bit painful...you know, scorn and snort-inducing pangs of nostalgia), and a familiar restlessness as we edge gradually out of Winter and into Spring.

A word: Smoked. Trout. There, that's two for you.

A touch: the tactile deliciousness of wool as I embark upon needle felting whilst my sewing machine is languishing in the Sewing Machine Hospital. Thus far I have made a couple of figures, various pumpkins and a couple of pears. Others are slightly bemused as to what I am doing with my life. They may well have a point.

A gift for me: a vintage hair and makeup workshop that was loads of fun and that had me strutting like a '40's dame. I've also been doing some Karma Sutra dance. Sublime, powerful and ecstatic.

A post you may have missed: ah well, good for you I say. I usually cringe deeply when I hit the "post" button, so if you missed it, that's possibly a good thing for the both of us.

On Being Organised. Or, Um, Not.

2009-09-01T13:36:00.007+10:00

This is possibly a strange topic for a post written by me: organisation. I mean, I often think I am quite a disorganised person, (and I'm sure others do if they have seen either my desk or my fridge).

Today there is much soothing of brows, because El Moono is sick and lying on the couch, groaning now and again like some poor child in a Gothic novel who has been cruelly locked in an attic. Poor pet. All she wants, is crackers, sympathy in the form of cuddles, (even more than usual - my naturally very cuddly girl), and Dr Dog on the dvd player.

Where was I?
Ah. Organisation. My thoughts have turned to Spring Cleaning lately - you know, that which involves activities such as burning even more Frankincense than usual, clearing cobwebs - figurative and literal to make way for the new, and...dusting. Singular I know. As far as I am concerned, dusting is an Event. I was lamenting to the Bloke the other night that I wish I was more organised, and that it would be a wonderful thing to cultivate my inner Virgo, (which is very much there - I can feel her lurking with her lavender scented linen and wholesome ways), and be so very...organised.
The Bloke looked at me and said, (without a trace of irony I might add), that I am, "frighteningly organised. In fact, you should run a country".
*Blink, blink*.

??

Really?

At first, and despite the fact that this is a somewhat back-handed compliment, I was quite chuffed to be perceived this way. Usually I'm perceived as a bit vague and possibly a little chaotic. And I don't really write lists, (or when I do I tend to lose them) which is what really organised people tend to do, don't they? I mean, I can see why many think I'm all over the show and don't know my bottom from elbow. So to speak. I run out of bandaids and forget to restock, and I am hopeless at getting myself to the post office in order to post stuff. It was therefore a pleasant change to be considered the opposite of chaotic and disorganised by someone who is an intimate.

Maybe it's all about perception. People have often remarked that I seem like a very calm, controlled person. Hah! It's all ruffled beneath the surface as you dear reader will well know from reading this blog.

I don't think I can claim the organisational honour. I have flashes of it, and sure I've managed to be organised somewhere along the way, just in order to simultaneously care for a baby, write a Phd, hold down a job, and run a household...so there was some level of organisation involved, or maybe it is just adapting and surviving?

And perhaps being organised could be confused with the fact that I'm pretty visually oriented, and thus tend to be naturally tidy (oh yes, dirty secret - I am very, very tidy in nearly all areas of my life...except my desk and fridge. But even there I still know where everything is by the way the piles of paper/vegetables are leaning). Um, abstract organisation. I like to call it that, anyway.

Back to the visual thing, (is anyone else visually...disposed?), I tend to feel flustered and irritable in a messy space, and need clear and uncluttered roomscapes, (ooh that's wanky innit?), in order to be able to think and not feel as though the walls are closing in. To feel physically free and at ease. Neurotic this may be, I grant you. And maybe if I ever end up living in a big rambly farmhouse I may feel differently about a bit of mess, but in an inner city apartment, definitely not so relaxed about it. I also don't like to spend my life looking for lost things, (this really, really irks me and is in the category of Waiting to Die for me. Much like word puzzles). I like places - homes - for bits and pieces and things. Where they can actually be found. This keeps a certain amount of the vagueness and internal chaos at arm's length.

I also like a good dollop of serenity in my environment, and the effect a peaceful, clear space has on those who are in it. Very, erm, zen of me grasshopper.
We all have ways of creating order in our worlds don't we? Some don't need their phsyical environments to be that ordered to feel grounded or, whatever.

What do you think? How do you organise your space/thoughts - for often they are intertwined. Well, for me they are. Do you get urges to Spring clean? Or to purge and emerge anew?

Also, lately I've been asked a good deal about how we have organised our homeschooling space. Well, we don't have a single space. We don't just sit down at a table and work, (although we do hang out at the dining table and draw and paint, and write, and potter on the laptop). We tend to move around our home (as well as outside it), and use different spaces, most often in quite unstructured ways.

I've also tried to create little nooks for The Moon to play, make music, or read in/retreat to and just enjoy being in. I've always done this on some level, but now that she's at home every day, it's become more important to add extra little dimensions to rooms.

The Moon Corner in our living room. We needed extra space for her books, because she has so many, (can't think where she gets that from...ahem). So we co-opted an old dollshouse for the job.

'Spring' - seasonal display. Moon was very excited about setting this up, so eager is she for Spring. My first go at needle felting was the free-style 'Spring Maiden' with the pink shawl and purple hair flower. And they all seem to be gathered in fascination around the lump of rose quartz...for some reason: "oh look ladies - a pink rock! And it also appears that we have don't faces".

Moon's dollhouse and dolly play-space in a corner of her bedroom.

Another corner for the play kitchen. Moon loves pottering here as well as in our actual kitchen. Note the picture on the wall is actually a fireplace, because we don't have an open fire, The Moon thought she would create one for us.

There are other nooks around the house I may post pictures of if I can get the time/be bothered. Not sure if this is just too trivial and mind-numbingly boring for youse. But there you go - this is just some of what I've been thinking about lately as we settle into our own little homeschool rhythms. And let me say, that although I do have the odd panic about WHAT AM I DOOOOING? WHAT DID I DO ALL THESE DEGREEEEEES FORRRR? Erm...
It is actually bloody wunnerful. It really is.

Friday Bits and Bobs. Including Award-y Bits Too.

2009-08-28T07:52:00.013+10:00

Hello! How are you going? Oops. It's been yet another 2 weeks since I posted. The days are kind of swallowing one another chez docwitch. But now I realise how much I miss blogging.* If I'm not writing a big fat chunk of the time, I start to implode, and about a year ago I went through a good deal of what Mon describes in this fine post.

Late last night I was grappling with a particularly lovely but confounding Japanese sewing pattern, (you know - so much sewing, so little time), not helped by the fact that a large, fluffy cat of ever-increasing girth decided to plant herself on my rather sublime Nani Iro fabric (possibly my fave ever - like a watercolour painting of a summer garden...erm...fabric fetishist...moi?).

Anyway, during said craft fix I was listening to this podcast on Craft Sanity - an interview with crafting extraordinaire Alicia Polson - and her points about blogging and why she blogs kind of reconnected me with the (long lost?) feeling of why I blog in the first place.

And speaking of fabric, I have it coming out of my ears. I'm planning to stitch up a maxi frock using this Japanese fabric with a blue background, and pattern (the dress on the far left)...

I love these dresses so, so much - whether or not they are in fashion. My fave garment of all time is flowing, slightly boho, empire line, long and shows the girls off (subtly) to advantage, without being revealing. It's glam, elegant and bloody comfortable. Which is essential to me. Also best with flats, so even better in my book.

Update: my sewing machine just died! I am devastated. No. More. Sewing. For now. Gahhh!

Oh well. I shall have to get on with some needle felting, a craft I've recently discovered and love.

So. Er. Here I am again.

And it is going to be a glorious Spring kind of day today, (we are I think, finally moving out of "Sprinter" as a good friend calls it, and into Spring proper). The Moon and I are going to be planting our seeds having been thwarted by storms and wild winds of late. Wild winds which have made me feel very restless indeed.

And exacerbating the restlessness and general angst has been a whole lot of dark, dark moon stuff (of the celestial variety rather than the daughterly kind), accompanied by some Lilith shenanigans. Astrologers will get what I'm banging on about...but has anyone else noticed the intensity? Or is it really just confined to my own little mind? Um. Quite possibly.

Anyway, things feel a lot lighter today, or something. I woke early and actually jumped out of bed instead of dragging my carcass reluctantly out of sleep at 8am-ish, (which is late for me). The sun was shining very brightly already at that hour and my thoughts turned to Spring cleaning as I gazed at my cloudy windows. But I didn't actually clean them. It's one thing for Spring cleaning to occur to a person at that hour of the day, quite another to act on it. And frankly, time alone is a precious commodity chez docwitch these days, (hence the flagrant burning of candles at both ends...meh. What's new?).

So I took out my cards and did a reading whilst sipping my cup o' Earl Grey in a sunny spot on my couch.

What's been happening? I feel out of touch once again, not having visited my favourite interwebby souls nearly as much as I would like. Here there's been a lot of crafting, and attempting to read novels, which has become quite a challenging concept time-wise. In fact, crafting and homeschooling is taking up such a lot of time at the moment. In fact, the social stuff relating to homeschooling is getting a bit much. I may have to pare it back a little. And I'm still in the process of surrendering and peeling back the layers so that I am able to trust the process of learning that's unfolding. But I do confess to having had the odd major wibble as I've worried whether I'm doing the right thing with this homeschooling decision, and have been anxious that the Moon is learning enough etc.

Any tips/advice from you homeschoolers out there? Our approach here could probably be described as "eclectic", but I feel more and more that we are not "curriculum in a box" homeschoolers, and I'm happy about that approach for us right now.

Other major wibbles include, (as you may have read), the question about whether to go ahead and have another child. Still grappling with it. And more and more I don't buy the sibling argument as a reason to have children, (never have to be honest). I'm very, very close to my brother and adore him to bits. There is 5 years difference between us - him being younger - so I reckon that's an example of the 2-year-to-enable-siblings-to-be-close rule being a load of BS. And the number of siblings I know who don't speak/hate each other has been an eye-opener over the years. I think I've come to feel that the family culture is so much more important than whether there are siblings, or if there are siblings, whether they get on or not. Generally speaking.

Blimey. Isn't it funny that people with one child are continually called upon to justify why they have the one, yet no one is ever asked to account for why they decided to have 2 or 3?

Enough of the rant. Onto more frivolous matters. I attended a vintage style workshop with the Divine Sol y Luna a couple of weekends ago. Just for fun. And it was! So much fun! And since I love noir and grew up watching all the 40's and 50's Broads strutting their stuff, I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Bright red lippy and victory rolls! In fact, Super Kawaii Mama (she's so lovely too and I really enjoyed chatting to her on the day), posted about it here...(and there's a picture of the back of my head with victory rolls if you're curious...hehe. Swell!). Afterwards, Sol y and I headed out to our favourite local Mexican Bar for tequila and music.

Veronica Lake - love her - in I Married a Witch.

Now, a couple of my very favourite bloggers, Mel and Earthenwitch have given me some award-y goodness...thanks lovelies!

From the delectable, Purple Bicycled Woman herself - Mel - I have received this bit o' sushi love...

"A Sushi Grade Blog is fresh, lively and of superior quality. It is rare, has character and is of good taste."

Um. Might have to clean things up a bit to qualify for at least the latter...

But I do so love sushi! Mmmmmm...

And now to pass around this tasty dish...

The Katster over at The Awakened Heart who is a beautiful writer, (and a Moste Wicked Witchypoo to boot).

Ruth from One Drop in the Ocean, who often has me running to the bookshelf (or to Amazon...*looks sheepish*) in search of a book or quote that's struck a chord. Great woman, and check out her art!

Now I know Mon has already received this, but I have to give it again, because it's just too obvious, frankly. I mean, look at the award description. Particularly the last sentence. It describes Mon's blog. Also, I agree with Mel, if Mon can give her books away, then I am indeed in awe of such strength of character.

And this one comes from Earthenwitch - a blogger who is so utterly irresistible, and truth be told, the reason I started blogging in the first place. So, er, you can go and blame her for having unleashed me upon the unsuspecting interwebs.

And - yes - stripey tights are involved! Happiness.

And the tights go to, (drum roll please...)

Yoga Witch at Greenspell, who never fails to write generous, informed, and informative posts about everything from yoga to making herb vinegars to reducing household waste. Love her style.

Wendy is a self-described kitchen goddess, and I have to agree with her. Check out her Witchy Kitchen blog.

And, now who other than a lovely, lovely new blog by Blackened Phoenix I have found entitled none other than...The Domestic Witch! Yep. Delish and mighty appropriate methinks.

Best of the weekend to yer.

*And I'm looking forward to exloring a whole swag of new blogs - many of which I have seen appear on my "community" widget. I used to wonder about having this widget, but now I love it because it's basically a fabbo blog delivery service! Lovely blogs delivered most conveniently to your bloggy doorstep.

Friday Bits and Bobs.

2009-08-14T19:48:00.008+10:00

After a couple of heavy posts, I thought it was high time I dive back into some flagrant frivolity and do a Friday Bits and Bobs post. Today was a really good day. The Moon and I were able to sink down into our own rhythms and being such a beautiful, sunny day, we threw the doors and windows open and painted, and danced, and crafted, and ate cake at wildly inappropriate times of the day. Life's pretty good to us right now.

So. Friday Bit's and Bobs. 'Ere 'tis...

:: Spring! It's springing! I know that we're technically in late Winter; (who cares about technicalities, it's an intuitive thing innit?), but when signs, omen and avatars of Spring are a'springing, there can be no denying that it's here. Blossoms are bursting, daffodils bobbing, birdies singing. It's all a bit Disney really. But I just adore Spring. It's my kind of season completely. My favourite season (particularly early Spring). The excitement and restlessness, bright sunshine, thunderclouds, constant movement; and the colour palette. The bright, clear colours replacing the dull, flat colours of the earth palette. Which has its own beauty, granted, but not one that speaks to me as strongly. I am born in Spring and I certainly know I have that energy. I even had to buy a new red lippy. Um yes, a little over-excited, me. *DW does annoying and slightly manic bobbing up and down in chair*.

:: But what this means is Spring planting! Wooooohooo! At last! The sun on my balcony has returned and my plants are reviving. Jasmine and passionfruit are sending little tentacles of green out into the world, and flowers I didn't know I had are emerging from their pots. And the Moon and I are plotting and planning our Spring gardening sessions. This includes getting a Moon Garden up and running...heheh. That is, a garden that flowers and glows, and releases its perfume by the light of the moon: Moonflowers (of bloody course!), petunias, phlox, night-scented stock, evening primrose, tabacco plant, and alyssum.

Seeds for a Moon Garden.

We're also going to revive our pizza garden, as The Moon makes a mean homemade pizza when the spirit moves.

:: And it must be Spring because I have suddenly noticed (with a certain amount of shock I might add) the dusty, smeary windows and general cobwebby-ness around me. A Spring clean is will take place anon...

:: This Sticky Date Loaf courtesy of Earthenwitch is my fave new indulgence. And EW is right - it does go with chai - splendidly in fact!

:: this hair clip, my new favourite thing, which was purchased from Etsy in a moment of despair at my recent and thoroughly awful hair cut. At least it's still long enough to wear up, while I grow it out (pout) - with a pretty, hammered copper barrette.

:: Enjoying revisiting this gorgeous and inspiring book:

Roots, Shoots, Buckets and Boots: Activities to do in the Garden; (Gardening with Children).

And also revisiting the Moosewood Restaurant Cooks at Home. So much of this is just the kind of eating that we love chez docwitch. It's such a go-to book for me, especially for inspiration rather than prescriptive cooking, which is usually how I like to approach things. And I don't think it's odd to sit down at 5 o'clock at night to start browsing through cookbooks and thinking about dinner, (as a highly organised friend of mine thinks it is and had a chuckle at me the other day), um...is it?

Anyway, this book has the recipe for one of my all-time favourite choccy cakes. It still works beautifully when gluten free flour is subbed for the usual wheaten kind. This recipe is actually posted by the Moosewood people here. And please don't be deterred by its dairy free status - it is lush. Oh. So. Lush.

:: I'm currently trying to obtain a refund for some yoga pants, (unused and in perfect condition as received), that I recently purchased. I hardly ever return goods, but I was not happy with these. I'm quite grumpy about the poor service - very quick to accept your payment, and very reluctant to deal with you afterwards. Completely off-hand and taking their time to return my money to me. A good reminder to me why I far prefer to use Etsy than other retail outlets.

:: nothing new, but Japanese sewing books (and fabric) are driving me wild with desire at the moment.

:: It's very High Fidelity around here at the moment. I have mentioned recently that we are transforming the Room of Doom (aka the study/music room/general tip) into a useable space, (particularly essential now that we are homeschooling and could really do with the extra room). The Bloke is currently spending hours at a time attempting to alphabetise his cds. Ahem. Yes, indeed. We are getting there.

:: Speaking of cds, some great new music we're enjoying over our way is Yo La Tengo's Popular Songs and Black Cab's Call Signs.

:: this site, which is both diverting and disturbing...heheh.

:: I'm even more exciteable than usual, because tomorrow I am attending a workshop with Sol y Luna. Will fill you in next time...weeeeee!

Have a fabbo weekend!

On...Breeding. Part I.

2009-08-13T19:04:00.010+10:00

First off, before I get to the juicy, personal stuff, let me say that I'm a complete lazy arse, and I'm totally slack about responding to your (greatly appreciated) comments. Particularly as my last post could be described as utterly insane.

I keep settling down to respond to you all, and have been distracted again and again by one thing or another. Or rather, that "one thing or another" is The Moon. I'm also keen to visit more of you, and derive the usual inspiration, and thought provoking-ness...er...that I gain from lurking over at yours. I miss it. I could always put the Moon back in school and take on a career as a blog surfer and commenter extraordinaire. Somehow I think that would not be the most ethical of choices...and what's more, it would be kind of weird.

This homeschooling lark is taking some adjusting to. I don't think I have less time than I used to, particularly not when compared to the academic jobs I had until recently. But, well. Somehow my ability to focus for any length of time on one thing has been seriously eroded. It is a life constantly interrupted and that absorbed way of thinking/being is but a distant memory. It rather reminds me of having a toddler. Those were days where it was hard to stretch my legs and do that liberating race-horse, run-like-the-wind stride - literally and figuratively. My hobbitty existence was bounded by the fact that I had a hobbit-sized person wherever I went. Now that I homeschool, there are echoes of this conjoinedness. Something that is both delicious and stifling. As I knew it would be, and I am still happy with my choice, thus far.

In my last post I ranted/whined about my aversion to what I see as a preciousness in my immediate cultural milieu of "me-time". But considering I am such a lone critter, it doesn't seem right that I bollocks on that way. I love time alone. I mean, really. Me? Oui. Very Oui. But in my irritation I conflated "Mother-me-time" with what I see beyond me, in the wider culture. Specifically, that which is excluding of children: the cafes and public spaces where people baulk at the inclusion of children because it doesn't fit in with their pretty, controlled lives.

I seem to be immersed in a culture that fetishes pregnancy, motherhood and childhood, (oh isn't it all beautiful, sacred, powerful? blah, blah - and yes they are), and the powerful marketing machines that cash-in and exploit a very middle-class need for idealism/perfection and nostalgia. Yet this same culture is so precious about the reality - the visceral, physical (as opposed to abstract and idealised), reality and, chaos - the blood, and emotion and...well, "inconvenience" of children. We have carefully contrived "child-friendly spaces", (often those hideous, nay, in fact nightmarish play spaces where everything smells of wee and you can't hear yourself think because it's full of feral critters hyped up on whatever crap they've been fed that fuels said feralness). I have only been so unfortunate to have spent time in these Hellmouths, um, "play spaces" on two occasions, but I have to confess to being quite traumatised thereafter. And the Moon wasn't greatly impressed either: "everyone is screaming mama, and I slipped over in some wee".

I have had people (both with and without children - but in truth more often with) tell me that "children don't belong in cafes". Piffle. Big. Bloody. Hairy. Bollocks.

From day one, El Moono, (who is now 7), has accompanied the Bloke and I, together or alone to cafes, cinemas, music venues, restaurants...and has been, on the whole, consistently fabulous company. It's just a very normal thing for her. And there is nothing extraordinary about The Moon (well, sure I may think so, but I'm supposed to). She's had nothing to lose her lolly over, or get over-excited about. Or stir us up with. When she was really little, if she was ever getting vaguely antsy, we took her straight outside until she was cool. No need to be hard on her, or our fellow citizens. Just remove, then rejoin, (yes - it works, forget the idle threats and general BS, stress and hysteria. Just get them gently outside, distract with hairy caterpillars, pointing out bright red cars etc, and then come in again when they're settled. Repeat if necessary, or if there are any shenanigans. Let the child be free without impinging on the freedom of others, (yes - there is a technicality there and I don't believe in letting a child go as feral as they wish all over everybody. Public spaces are for everyone, not just our precious off-spring. Within reason). But I still think the child needs to know that we chill out in cafes, and have that association, rather than assume it's ok to run headlong into the waiters/coffee machines/other diners and their soup, just because our parents have some kind of (frankly damaged) concept of freedom.

Ahem.

Anyway, Moon digs it all. The going here and there, the soaking up of cultural capital an' all. Inner city kid? Totally. But it's great, and she can sit, and chat, and eat a meal without throwing it at anyone, and she thoroughly enjoys herself. She giggles, she draws pictures for the waiters/waitresses she is frequently besotted by, (shameless Gemini flirt), and she arranges her spinach into garish monsters. All is well in the universe.

Now. I've just spent this much time giving you a bloody lecture on parenting, (sorry. Normally avoid that if I can). When actually, truth is, it's crunch time.

Indeed. This is the post that I have not been writing for a long time. And doesn't that sentence make total sense?

But, here goes. Right now we are trying to come to a decision about whether we will have another child. Or not. At nearly 38 years of age I no longer have the flagrant luxury of time to think about it. Which is what I have been doing since I was 30. It's time to put this one to bed, either way. Um...

Before I had The Moon, way back in 2002, at the not-so-tender age of 30, it had always been my intention to have 2 children. A good, tidy number, if a little Protestant. But that's my background after all. Then I had a baby. And I was totally, ferociously in love with her, (from the very moment I knew she was brewing away deep within me); and when she was born, I was utterly distracted by her every minute of the day. I wanted her like I had wanted nothing else. Ever. I was completely absorbed in her, and went as deeply into the experience as (I think) it is possible to do so - body and soul. It was a beautiful adventure, (although the pregnancy and birth were far from ideal, even traumatic at times, I did manage to put that behind me so grateful was I to have a healthy, and very, very happy baby girl*).

Looking back I think I had a form of PND (Post Natal Depression - but most of you will be familiar with that acronym). I was manic, and anxious and full of an extraordinary adrenal energy that drove me beyond limits I was barely aware I possessed. For the first year at least. And then I returned to my PhD and wrote like a demon, (which really helped actually...).

Yet during these early months, I was also in dread of being apart from her in case "something terrible happened" to her, and I would have to stop myself from tearing her out of the arms of anyone who dared to hold her for more than a couple minutes due to the rising panic I felt. Bloke excluded. I couldn't let her out of my sight.

And then I wondered how on earth anyone could turn around and do it all again. All around me I was surrounded by clucky women who were getting knocked up (seemingly) soon after giving birth to their first babies. Or at least, 1-2 years later. And then asking me when I was "going for it", like a good Aussie sheila. I felt a mixture of horror and indignation. Distaste even. My own feelings have always been that I prefer a generous spacing - and initially my intention was for a four year gap. This is something I still stand by, but this is just a very personal thing and I understand that there are individual, as well as familial, and general relationship dynamics that are all very different. And yes, very personal. So I don't intend to judge here or step on anyone's toes who may feel that a 1 or 2 year gap is great, (blimey! 1 year gap - now that's just brave...hehe).

Motherhood by Sheila Nursten.

Anyway. The four year mark drifted past, like some kind of disregarded deadline, and suddenly I found myself entering that scary post-35 age-group in which conceiving babies is not such a good idea, or at least something that needs to be considered carefully, and with a least some awareness of the age-associated risks. Also, I have health issues that mean that although I managed to get pregnant very easily, remaining so was quite a challenge. But I was working in a bloody insane job, and trying to keep a roof over our heads, (pre-interest rate dive).

And then there is what I refer to as the Holly Golightly phenomenon. That is, the, "well I've already done this/been here/experienced that so why on earth would I do it/go there again?" Which is how I tend to live my life. I have been reminded, "Docwitch, a baby isn't a thesis, or a painting, or a mountain". Well, no, but it also, kind of, is. Which probably reveals my lack of commitment o family-building. But creating a family hasn't ever been a big priority of mine. Families are loud and exhausting - particularly for mothers. And leave little time or energy for much else. Creating things is something I'm more preoccupied with. And beauty. I don't believe that having babies is inimical to these things, but it also depends who we are. How our natures interact with our lives and the elements therein.

Motherhood by Nora Heyson.

All this sounds negative I know. I'm possibly reacting against the fact that I am surrounded by people who have some investment in my decision, and who want me to have another child, and I am feeling implicitly pressured, (but not by The Bloke I have to say). Mostly by The Moon who is "desperate" for a baby brother or sister. But also by lovely friends. And I'm surrounded by very nice homeschoolers who are creating large Catholic families for themselves and who feel a bit sorry for my Moon being an only child. In fact, they think it downright odd. And maybe they have a fair point. But, although I am slightly in awe of them, I don't want to ever be in their shoes. They appear just saturated in the kind of chaos I would feel suffocated by; their bodies have been completely colonised and it's hard to see what lies beyond their role as Mother, (or have a conversation outside of this context...sigh). They smile beatifically whilst their hurricane broods wreak cheerful havoc. I know that in taking that role upon themselves there is a form of identity and power derived from it. But I think I would implode with a whole brood of children. So that's never been an idea I've entertained for a second - having lots of children. A non-issue for me.

But how would one more be? Would I lose me? Be buried alive beneath a mountain of nappies and need? A homeschooling mother with a baby is not what I ever envisioned I would be. Part of me recoils in horror at the thought. And in an apartment that is really just big enough for three people, (can't afford to move folks). And what about the relationship between me and the Moon. I mean, it is quite unique to an only child mother-daughter scenario. It really is. And it's so precious to me. However 'selfish' that sounds.

And I do want more. I use the word 'more' quite intentionally, although I know it may provoke. My whole aim in life is not being a mother. It's part of it. Or maybe I am just the dilettante I always thought I was. A shallow Holly Golightly creature (I can be, actually).

As to where to go from here - I just don't know. Nothing is becoming clearer. Either way. And I thought it would by now.

I see women engulfed by motherhood, and I see their creativity swamped by the obligations and rhythms of mothering. With others I see creativity reinvigorated, enriched; I see their joy and their delight in their babies. As I delighted in mine. I see the delicious limbs and softness of babies, and I also think of the bone-crushing exhaustion, the downright shattering exhaustion of endless, sleepless nights and wonder how it is possible to ever, ever go back, (the sleeplessness can be nothing short of horrific). I know the gifts, and the beauty that children bring. And I also know the boredom, the lack of freedom - physical. The plans and projects and travel put on hold. However willingly, it's so often a reality. There are always choices taken and not taken along the way, and each path is accompanied by sorrow as well as by joy and possibility.

Does anyone else struggle with these questions? If that's not too personal...

I'll just continue to write through this process, as it's the only thing that seems to vaguely help with gaining any vague semblance of clarity. Things may evolve, so I shall see how it goes.

*Oh, and I am so very wary of embarking upon pregnancy as a way of "getting it right", or as a way of revisiting and healing previous pregnancy/birth trauma/difficulty. Again, to me it's bordering on pregnancy and birth as fetish, as abstract or a narcissistic ideal. And potentially opening a whole can of worms with it.

Back On the (Entirely Random as Usual) Horse Again.

2009-08-09T19:13:00.007+10:00

Can it really be almost three weeks since I settled in here with my cuppa and a vacant expression? You thought that was it didn't you? I probably gave you that impression. Although that wasn't my intention. Hurrumph. I am not gone. Um...anyone out there?

*tumbleweeds roll across the room, and the wind howls. A few crickets chirp in the deadly silence. The cave echoes emptily, etc...*

It's been a funny thing this blogging retreat. As such. I have missed the community, (and do I have a lot to catch up on), missed it more even more than I thought I would, which is illuminating for me in regards to musing on interweb connections et al, (but that's another post); and I have certainly missed the beautiful blogs, and all the inspiring bits and pieces that appear as I wander about my usual haunts in the blogosphere. Yet I haven't missed being on the computer. Oh no. I realise more and more that I am just not a virtual creature. Which again, is linked to the idea of interweb connections - and a whole other post. I wish I could walk around and knock on all your doors and say hello, stay for a cuppa, (and then leave I promise...erm and I bet you're very glad indeed that I can't actually visit you...hmm). But realising just how many of you I would really like to sit down, face to face and have a cuppa chai/tequila with.

And I haven't missed blogging, but I have missed the random jotterings (yup - that's most definitely a word now). So I am a contrary witchypoo as ever. Time away puts things in perspective though doesn't it?

But time away also gets a Lot Done. For when do I have time for blogging now? Currently, it's as the rice is boiling indignantly upon the stove, and only after I have knitted the yoghurt, baked the bread, made the muesli, painted a room, and whilst the Moon is distracted, (and desperately wheedling and resorting to her considerable arsenal of persuasive bribery which includes honey and quilts in order to cajole Brownies to come and live in our home). Do I blog during yoga time? Homeschooling time? Or, erm, sleeping time? Conundrums. Indeed.

But yes, I have missed it.

And yet not missed it.

So what's been happening? Has anything vaguely interesting to anyone but me been happening?

How do I catalogue the comings and goings, the days with The Moon, the baking, (oooh I do have the Chocolate Cake of the Wicked Gods to share with you actually), the yoga, the not doing yoga, the creating, the not creating, the angsting, (which I'm sure you could do without reading), the homeschooling, the tending of plants, the room makeovers, the writing, the not writing, the job offers, the so-not-wanting-to-accept-job-offers...

Cooking up a storm - including said Chocolate Cake of the Wicked Gods...

Well, all those moments - the recording of them - comes from being here more often, and just quietly embedding those moments in a record, moments that are so fleeting and easily forgotten. So frequently I lose the moment, the train of thought, and then it all seems a bit pointless. A bit irrelevant.

So in the past nearly three weeks since I have been here, I have dealt with...let's see...the bad and then the good, (I always like to deal with the bad first and save the good 'til last)...

:: dealing with intense rage and unexpressed grief, and the reemergence of PST (post traumatic stress), which has probably come about as a result of it being safe and quiet enough for it to make itself known. I have ordered Thich Nhat Hanh's book on Anger...anyone read it? Thoughts? Or thoughts on dealing with anger in general...think there may be a post in this.

:: it now appears that I have an ulcer (of the tummy kind), and I'm not bloody surprised either. Although there is no scientific link between ulcers, and stress/anger, I know that my symptoms become so much more severe when I am feeling these emotions. And I began to have symptoms whilst I was working in my stressful job.

:: with all of this going on I have withdrawn from people/communications, and have felt completely anti-social, and this makes me a little insecure in terms of my friendships.

:: seeing a greatly valued and loved member of your community fading away with cancer, and seeing the courage and fear written clear on their face every time you see them. Seeing their family suffering and lost.

:: and now to the more trivial...receiving a disastrous haircut, (and yes, I am attached to my long, thick hair), and the impact of this upon my sense of self/identity and feelings of attractiveness. And I can generally do without the second-hand, half-baked feminism, (lawks - I've written enough of this myself and am completely aware of the psychology, and a number of theories behind it all), and any platitudes. I realise that this is a particularly cushy, first-world neurosis, worrying about a bloody haircut, but it's still significant to me. Internalised childhood crap.

Yet why would they have shorn the heads of women collaborators post WWII, (and there are many other examples of this), if it didn't have any significance/impact upon the female psyche. Ok, bit of a leap I know, but basically illustrative perhaps. And why do women who receive chemotherapy endure such grief about the loss of their hair, (among the many other feelings they experience), if hair wasn't laden with such emotion and meaning. Again, this is a post in itself.

Anyway, said hairdresser - evil wench - deserves to have her head set on a pike, mounted outside the Melbourne School of Hair and Beauty for all to see, and as a warning to those graduates who dare to let their egos runneth away with them. And yes, I was blunt and emotional with the harlot. Particularly as I had been so very specific about what I did (and didn't) want. The hairdresser who fixed me, (or at least, attempted to), asked me only half-jokingly if said Shearer From Hell was out for revenge or something...says it all really.

the ambivalent:

:: wondering where the hell I'm going with things. I think this is something that women with school-aged children may identify with? It's a very, very different state of being when we're in that early childhood-baby-toddler stage. After that your life kind of evolves and shifts, and there is an emergence from that intense cocoon stage of the early years. Is that too opaque or simplistic? Does anyone with school-aged children know what I'm talking about here? The call to go beyond the day-to-day, and just doing what you can in the moment can be strong. There are extended periods of time that are free for intense focusing upon Other Things. I s'pose it's all part of the life-cycle - particularly for women. Although this homeschooling thing, (which I am loving btw), does rein in the energies somewhat and pull me back into rhytms that reflect those early childhood days. I am attempting to carve out time for other projects that need nurturing.

:: thinking about the concept of "me time" that is so prevalent in my culture, (or, rather, my middle class, inner-urban, Western culture and its carefully controlled contexts that involve framing everything in terms of the adult individual and the needs of the adult individual). Realising that I am feeling a certain amount of pissed-offness at the very concept of "me time", (which translates to "child free time" and child-free spaces, particularly in relation to motherhood), which has surprised me somewhat, as this is despite the fact that I am a mother who relishes the moment my Moon goes off to bed, (or the early mornings when she is still asleep), and I am able to turn to my sewing machine/books/thoughts-without-interruption.

But how damaged/controlled/selfish are we that need to escape the "chaos" of children so constantly? Sometimes I wish I was born into a big Mediterranean or Asian family instead of an uptight Protestant set-up/milieu. But I realise that that has its own set of complications and complexities. But having spent considerable time in an Asian community, there is not the need to escape the role of mother as there is here. The cult of the individual doesn't reign so predominantly. There is a much more relaxed approach, where children are integrated more into daily life. And this is not entirely due to the wider community taking up some of the tasks of motherhood that we experience. A village raising a child and all those cliches/truisms. It's also a mindset, a way of thinking about motherhood that is much less about Being Something in the world, and the cult of individualism. Again, there are complexities and I don't think we can idealise a culture or community as providing a utopia, or something we lack. But it is interesting to me. And galling. I am finding my immediate milieu f****ing precious about children much of the time. Just bloody relax, children aren't time bombs! They're people who need to be socialised and included.

Phew. That's a rant innit?

:: The Moon begging me for a baby brother/sister, but preferable a sister. *Blink, blink*. Using every guilt-tripping tactic there is in the book...and more.

Good Stuff:

::seeing The Moon's reading leaping ahead and her utter sense of enchantment upon discovering, and being able to read herself, the Usborne early reader's version of Heidi (by Anna Spyri). Sigh.

a homeschooling moment...

:: receiving a juicy tax return because I worked in my paid job for only half of the financial year, but being taxed as though I was working the full year (woohoo!), which means I will probably be able to visit my grandma in New Zealand, and see her before she shuffles off, (she's 98).

:: said tax return means that I have been able to work on transforming the Room of Doom, aka the music room/study into something resembling a space we can Be In. Currently we close the doors and warn all who enter our home that they must not go in that room, (rather like Bluebeard's wives), for they are at risk of never coming out again; lost souls amongst rampant files and mountains of cds). But I now have a nook - a sewing table with my machine and a shelf with my fabric and everything set up on it. The joy! Haven't taken any "before and after" shots, but let me just say that if I had, they would be dramatic and impressive. Fodder for Apartment Therapy.

::baking, doing yoga, writing, thinking, pottering, focusing, playing, crafting, running fast uphill, socialising, reading (oh - um - anyone got some good reading recommendations for me? I'm in a bit of a post-fabulous book void right now. I need something that will absorb me and knock my socks off).

:: listening to gypsy music and dancing, usually naked whilst I make breakfast. Porridge with honey, cinnamon and banana, accompanied by pomegranate green tea.

:: The Moon and I journalling together, wandering, reading, playing, chatting...

:: discovering felting, and embarking upon little Waldorf-style figures and critters. Such a beautiful, meditative fibre art. Love. It.

:: seeing a friend's triumph, and my pride in her beautiful, beautiful work at her book launch. All despite her working at the Big Dumb University (and same dept.) that I was working in and her being undermined by a number of elements/factors. Woo-cha!

:: ordering a swag of really beautiful books from Amazon, and anticipating the moment of their arrival. Mostly children's books, but just as exciting as grown-up versions.

:: sewing cushions to lounge on, and sitting around our coffee table to eat, as I am more comfortable sitting on the floor than I am on chairs. Always have been.

:: delighting in my home, the beauty of it, and its daily rhythms. Acknowledging that this pleasure and appreciation has little to do with Things, or stuff, and more to do with the fact that so much of who I am and my passions are free to emerge and take shape here. It's my sanctuary.

:: signs of Spring on its way...

Hyacinth on my windowsill. Note dirty windows with smeary fingerprints. Dusting and window cleaning have never been high on my list of priorities.

Stepping Back. And Living .

2009-07-20T16:37:00.007+10:00

This is the post in which I announce (ooh - that sounds a bit pretentious) some changes I'm making in regards to blogging and interwebby activity in general.

I've been doing some thinking, a good deal of writing, and a lot of living. I realise more and more that the happiness, the richness that I have in my life is being insidiously eaten away by blogging. That may sound somewhat hysterical, but what used to be an outlet for me has now become (at times) creatively stifling, and a time-sucker. Despite the fact that I derive a lot from the blogging community, I have found myself increasingly torn between this world and the real. And for me, it will always be the lived rather than the virtual that will win out in the end. I just can't be in front of a computer for any length of time without generating a goodly amount of (unnecessary) dissatisfaction, peevishness and restlessness. There is also a certain amount of unoxygenated blobby-ness engendered in such inactivity. And there's a lot to be said for running around outside in the fresh air, or reading a novel if there is spare time to play with.

My thoughts and energy become dispersed and less focused on the interwebs. And I now have a few creative 'babies' (no - I'm not pregnant!) that require nurturing and concentrated time. And a deeper, more considered approach than the sloppy dash-off-a-post one and then dashing around the blogs and being on email. I don't wish to see the trace or record of my life contained only in a series of blog posts.

The projects I've been developing are calling me very strongly, and now that I'm a homeschooling mama (yay!), I am feeling this even more so. We are already loving our homeschooling days, and have slipped into a rhythm that feels incredibly natural, productive and free. My girl is thriving and endlessly creative. These are rich days indeed, and they need to unfold in their fullness. And I need to be fully present for them. And for the nights which are fruitful and peaceful.

Although I am by nature a potterer, I am also quite a productive potterer, (well, I did manage to potter my way to a PhD and various other projects). And I also consider myself a bit of a dabbler. But dabbling can be a trap, and a withdrawal. There is a great deal of freedom in a little applied discipline, and after a four-month hiatus in which I have rested, licked my wounds and regenerated, I have the urge to emerge again, and create something, and contribute something (and as we near Imbolc in this part of the world, I feel that energy building in me, in readiness for renewal). All of this involves, or rather requires the setting of boundaries that protect and nurture my creativity.

My little girl is no longer a baby or a small child, and as she unfolds and becomes more independent my energies unfurl and expand also. The little bytes of life with a tiny child no longer apply to me, and those rhythms have changed gradually over the years. Time for me is a different beast to what it used to be, and it's something I have more of, and value its delicious fatness. Its availability. This is even despite the fact that I am on board as a homeschooling mama nearly all day every day.

I am also feeling a certain amount of vulnerability, and even insecurity here right now. I've decided that although it may not prove very interesting, that I'm going to keep some things to and for myself only. In fact, this blog may become a little book of days that could become a record for my child, (and myself), of memories - of walks, of creating things, what we were reading, listening to, seeing in the world around us. I know of bloggers who take this approach who are then accused of being Pollyanna's, or somehow emotionally dishonest. But I don't understand that judgement, and in fact, find it quite presumptuous, because all they are doing is maintaining emotional privacy, and they have chosen not to put it all out in the blogging world, so to speak.

If it gets too trivial here, (and I quite like trivia - hehe), or the discussion isn't deep and meaningful enough for you, then that's because I have written it in private elsewhere, and with less self-consciousness and inhibition than I do here. I doubt that anyone cares anyway, (apart from those with voyeuristic inclinations or tentacles of need, but I don't write for them anyway). I simply don't wish to expend too much energy where I feel limited. And for me, the blogging platform is a limited and limiting mode or framework, (it's too performative for me, and I am not someone who is very comfortable with this), yet for others it can be the key to freedom and creativity. It takes a while to navigate and locate the writing self in a public sphere, and it's never quite flowed for me.

So keeping it all within a particular context and at a certain level is what I am aiming for, and I don't think that should be at the cost of authenticity. This way I don't feel I am giving my power away, or leaving pieces of myself open to judgement.

Although I am not going to close this blog (yet - I may set up a very different blog and format), it will change, and I plan on spending a lot less time here. This is despite the fact that I have encountered an incredible, fascinating and inspiring community of bloggers and a rich world of ideas and thoughts are shared among them. It's all so tantalising but also potentially addictive, and it's been something brewing away in me for some time rather than a quick and easy step back.

And hopefully there will also be more time for me to do some crafting! Ah ha!

Like this...

Mis-matched linen and scrap fabric napkins (I made my own bias binding from bits I had in my fabric stash).

I was inspired by Rhonda Jean over at Down to Earth to make my own napkins, and since we've always used cloth napkins, it seemed a logical thing to actually make my own, rather than buy some new ones to replace our terribly grotty old pieces. In fact, I had to before I even considered having guests over for dinner, for fear that they may creep back out the door in terror of a dose of something dreadful via said napkins.* And I'm about to knit up some cotton dishcloths as well. All part of a green audit I'm doing on our home in which I aim to replace just about everything that's disposable with reusable whatnots.

*but...but...I do wash them! Really! It's just that after some considerable usage they have very juicy and immovable stains that don't really bear thinking about. We have fun speculating on what the stains could be, or what crime scene they were found at. Amazing what images the remains of blueberries can conjure.

Sleeping Beauty and Awakening to Life.

2009-07-13T21:09:00.008+10:00

I've been thinking about writing this post for a week or so now. But for some reason I just haven't been able to settle to it. And I've certainly been busy - even a bit manic. Ants in me' pants. I put this down to not getting enough exercise, (and I am not talking about a gym - egads!), which makes me INSANE and irritable, and more scattered than I usually am. I've been unable to settle to anything that involves coherent thought. But I did enjoy watching Vicki, Christina, Barcelona the other night. Javier Bardem...sigh.

Eh.

But it's more than this. I have been slightly reluctant...fearful even? And why I'm not sure. Probably a lot to do with blogging whilst exposing my vulnerable underbelly. So I may be skittish as I go here. I'm not really even in the mood now, but I'm railing against my squeamishness, or whatever the blazes it is that I'm feeling right now. Laziness too. I fear that this may become a very self-indulgent post, and I'm not thinking of any particular situation or experience as I write this, but an overarching idea, or pattern that has certainly made itself known in my own life at times.

Anyway, this is a follow-on from a heap of full-moon tumultuousness that squirmed around in my brain like a toad. And around this time I read this post by Holistic Mama, which certainly spoke to me on a number of levels. It's all about settling, and accepting less for ourselves and becoming less, or diminished as a result.

This is not a new, revelatory idea to me, but in her characteristically intuitive manner Mon managed to express something that has managed to stir up my soup pot quite vigorously. Um, if you know what I mean.

Concurrently, I've been experiencing all sorts of synchronicities with regards to that most anti-feminist of fairytales The Sleeping Beauty, not only because I have a 7 year old child who is very much enamoured with fairytales, although I prefer The Brothers Grimm to Perrault. Whenever I read Monsieur P, I have violent fantasies about lacing his snuff box with chilli, so recessive and passively rendered are his females that all the guts have been ripped out, (along with the meaning) of these ancient tales. All for the effete audience of the 17th Century Court of Versailles.*

Sleeping Beauty by Thomas Spence.

I digress, but it wouldn't be my blog if I didn't at some point. So, because of a number of little occurrences and coincidences, I am brought face to face with the Sleepy One. And perhaps she is the most idealised of feminine incarnations because, apart from Snow White and her tendency to also nod off for long periods of time, (and she's a little cracker with a duster), SB hardly says anything, and sleeps most of her way through the story. And all whilst managing to look very fetching throughout. Bet she doesn't drool on her pillow either. She doesn't cause much trouble, (apart from plunging an entire castle into a century long slumber, which is just a bit inconvenient of her, I must say).

Now at this point I could refer you to Bettelheim seminal work The Uses of Enchantment: the Meaning and Importance of Fairytales. He's definitely worth a look in regards to his fairytale criticism and psychoanalytic theory.

And if you were to explore Bettelheim and others, (in fact Midori Snyder has written a good article over at Endicott Studio on Sleeping Beauty), you would discover SB's deeper, more ancient and complex origins.

But my question (and so might yours be) is what possible relevance has SB to a grown woman?Apart from wicked fairies (and I do a rather good turn as one of those believe me) and ineffectual mothers how can there be a 'way in' to this particular little tale? What relevance is there indeed for a 30-something mother, wife, and feminist witchypoo (but really, I'm not into the label thing and usually have my tongue in my cheek), and someone for whom adolescent rites of passage are but a distant (somewhat cringe-worthy) memory?

Very little on the surface. And for many women, (well, certainly for myself) the likes of Clarissa Pinkola Estes filled a very big fairytale/rites of passage void left by my 'outgrowing' traditional childhood tales. Although I devoured them throughout my scholarly years, and now I seek to excavate their meaning as part of my child's quest for meaning as she travels along the winding path through the dark woods. And she likes it dark - she loves it dark in fact.

But Sleeping Beauty is perhaps the least satisfactory of the iconic tales, although it does get pretty demned dark. It delves into familiar adolescent terrain with its dichotomies of action and inaction, passivity versus risk-taking, puberty, and the onset of menstruation, burgeoning sexuality and the awakening of sexual love. It is preoccupied with power and parental authority, oedipal yearnings and anxieties, and with negotiating a sometimes hazardous path towards adulthood. What happens beyond the fairytale ending is where many of we women end up, (whether or not we have children). Beyond the page. And here some of us find partners, and have children, and 'cottages' and 'settle down' into all that domestic bliss that we partly crave and partly which our culture has set out for us as the narratives we follow.

If we do remain within the pages of the fairytale, and refuse to be written out, (as good women and mothers are written out, 'dying' out of the story; for what use is a present, helpful, nurturing mother in a tale of a young female initiate who must be exposed to darkness, risk and temptation? No good mother would allow this unless she is dead, absent, dysfunctional or downright destructive.

As we are all no doubt aware, the mature woman either dies, is absent, or becomes transformed into a bitter, evil-doing hag, a wicked stepmother, witch (ooer - steady on), or generally destructive and devouring female. Yes - one that eats babies/children. Lovely.

Whether we see these figures as emanations of female power and symbolically laden, as mere tropes, or as misogynist inscriptions by a patriarchal culture is certainly interesting to me, but not what is preoccupying me with The Sleeping Beauty at the moment. Not emotionally. Viscerally. I feel at times nausea, and even anxiety when I encounter her. This is not how I have always felt about this tale, which has elicited little more than a dispassionate interest in me at times.

The power and fascination of fairytales is that there is no definitive answer or interpretation, as these narratives can contain inherent contradictions and inconsistencies, and yet be carriers of complex layers of meaning and symbolism that speak to us very profoundly at different life stages. But I never thought the SB would speak to me personally. For a start, I was a girl who fought everything, (not much of an overt rebel mind you, just argumentative - hot air), fiery and stoic and refusing to be passive and 'nice'.

And thus I return to Mon's thoughts about settling, about slipping into a life that is somehow less than who we are and what we value. I have known a number of times in my life wherein I have slipped down into a deep, torpid passivity, a settling for something less, and a sleep-walking existence that requires a numbing of the heart, and the senses. Disengagement from life - and from being awakened to all that life holds.

What has dismayed me greatly about these times that I have been snared, has been the stealth by which this occurred. The unexpectedness of it. And to labour a somewhat obvious (and wanky) analogy here, the roses that surrounded the home of my heart in all their intoxicating, sensuous beauty, gradually became replaced by a tangle of ruthless, woody thorns around the walls of a blind and sleeping heart. A wintered heart - numb to its own beauty, let alone the beauty of others. This is the narcissism of those who are deeply afraid of life, or who cannot encounter its pain without contracting. Depression, or substance abuse or...these can be the markers of the killing sleep. (Or the sleep that protect and preserves us whilst we gather our forces, and withdraw to survive the crisis).

From The Sleeping Beauty, retold and illustrated by Trina Schart Hyman.

But there are other times, not necessarily marked by anything so dramatic or pronounced as crisis, and therefore possibly more insidious because we persuade ourselves that we're being unreasonable/ungrateful/un-whatever, and there is a settling for. Less. Too little. And little by little we are seduced by our own thinking as much by circumstance or those around us into defining ourselves less as who and what we are, and what we actively desire and wish to create. We move aside, we make space, (for we wouldn't wish to be selfish now would we?) and somehow in the process we tell ourselves that this is ok, that this is compromise, and even flow. We allow ourselves to be defined, created, and desired. We become the passive reflections (and receptacles) of the lives of others - either through love, by absurd accident, or because we feel trapped and cannot consider any Other Way beyond what is here and now; which can feel like forever, rather than the ever-transitory and transforming present.

In daily life I find in these situations that I continue as ever, but the mirror catches up doesn't it? The light leaves the eyes as the spirit leaves the body, the downward turn of the mouth, a thinner, meaner, more anxious line around the lips. Where was the wild, wild girl who was firelight? The girl who was a cheeky breeze, a shiver of storm, and whose ancestors would call her into the night where she would become incandescent sheets of blistering light, blazing across monstrous oceans of iron and storm. Where is this fierce, unabashed girl now? This intensity of light and energy?

We do change and become transformed, and we hopefully develop humility, patience, compassion, and other life-works of the heart, but we must not become less, or diminished by our lives. Our choices require courage, and they require us to not settle. I am no longer a girl, nor do I wish to be in the Maiden cycle of my life. I am no longer the fullness of a promise about to unfold, nor potential in all its beauty, but life in its fullness, and fulfilling its life-giving promise - not just physically, but spiritually. And I must not sleep again. And if sleep overtakes me I need to awaken myself, as I have long known that I am my own rescuer. That fierce little warrior with the sword and shield, battling her way through the thorns must receive her carrion call to awaken and step into that frightening void, with or without 'faith' (whatever that elusive and mysterious to me quality is), but in the full knowledge that there may be nothing there but storm and thorns. Thorns that will tear at the soft, fleshy places of my fears and drive them out until I cannot but be awake to all of them. And beyond that, perhaps the roses will be able to bloom again.

Thankyou for your patience and goodnight.

*A number of parents have issues/concerns with letting their children read Grimm and the original fairytales, fearing that they may be too dark and damaging to the developing psyche. I happen to (quite strongly) disagree, and there are a number of compelling arguments - (see Bettelheim for a start) for fairytales (not of the dumbed-down Disney ilk!) being very beneficial for children.

Winter in July. And my Garden.

2009-07-08T17:58:00.015+10:00

I have another post spinning around in my brain from the full moon earlier this week, and also from this post by Mon, (particularly in regards to the notion or dilemma of passivity and 'settling' for something unworthy of us, which I've been pondering a good deal lately). And Mon's post seems to have made an impression on a number of bloggy people, (Holistic Mum's thoughtful, intuitive writing does have this effect on people quite frequently). But I had this post brewing, so I'll come back to these ideas later...

Mud Maid at The Lost Gardens of Heligan, Cornwall.

Mid-winter in Australia often makes me think of the very fabulous Doris Lessing's Winter in July, (1966), her collection of short stories about Africa. Although in so many respects these stories are (dramatically) different to anything resembling my reality here, the phrase 'Winter in July' suggests a dissonance, if not discord that can be the experience of living with seasons here.

I'm not saying the seasons here are unnatural, (not at all), and that I don't appreciate the beauty of where I am, but that many of us who are derived from a white settler, anglo-celtic/European background have another seasonal narrative that lies within us. And we have, consciously or not, placed this narrative layer upon the environment in which we live, an adopted environment, (not one in which we evolved with the land and seasons over hundreds and hundreds of years). There is a familiarity in these other narratives from the North. And in my gardening habits, I tend to gravitate to the cottage garden plants and European herbs that I was raised to know so well. Native plants are beautiful, but as a gardener they don't resonate with me as much, they don't speak to me as clearly, (in all senses of the word...hehe).

We have taken the Northern temperate template of the four seasons, and applied it here to our temperate regions.* But, for me at least, this evokes something of the uncanny - otherwise known as the "familiar unfamiliar". And what I mean by uncanny is not necessarily the supernatural, (but obviously this definition can extend to the uncanny), but in this instance it would be a little overwrought to refer to it as such. More accurately, it is that which is familiar but also strange and unsettling. There is usually always an element of the familiar or known that is combined with that which is odd or dissonant, and it is this combination that we find unsettling.

Where am I going with this? Look at this picture of a frosty morning by the creek for a moment while I sort myself out...

Ho hum.

Ah yes. Our Melbourne Winter, (the middle of winter I suppose is roughly July according to our Western notions) and is pretty frosty with us being much further south than the tropical states, but nowhere near as icy as many climes in the Northern Hemisphere and certainly it's not as cold here as it gets in a New Zealand Winter. Although, frankly, it's cold enough for my britches to get decidedly chilly. My stripey tights are woolly these days.

Here we can awaken to blankets of frost, (like this morning), wherein roses are also blooming. Yes, in deep July (and yes - roses bloom in England and North America and Europe in July, and this is what we all expect, whereever we are from). And I realise that roses can bloom in Winter, but it's somewhat remarkable it is not - in a temperate 4-seasons climate? I realise that this is fairly common in a Mediterranean Winter, but...hopefully you understand what I'm getting at...um. Our climate here is quite similar to parts of the Mediterranean, and certainly plants from this region are known to thrive here.

So even though I experience this every year, and it's a common enough sight, there I am, finding myself mumbling in bemusement, "roses in July! My word..." I'm sure this comes from a childhood largely spent in New Zealand, where roses are a much rarer sight in Winter.

Anyway, I am posting some pictures of my winter garden, (and a couple of others taken around where I live), partly inspired by all the beautiful images of various bloggers' gardens I have been lapping up, (with a degree of envy I must confess). I itch to get back into the garden and do some real work. Because despite the roses blooming, and the jasmine thriving, it is actually pretty dormant right now, (except for the odd bout of vegie planting). Spring flowers are yet to be enjoyed, (and at least they have the decency to wait until an approximation of Spring before doing so...hehe).

So here is a slice of my mid-winter...

Chrysanthemums are still going strong, and share a pot with a bare-branched Virginia Creeper.

Mini broccoli - we're enjoying many Lilliputian-scale nibbles from this.

Lobelia - which is much happier in the cooler weather.

A tangle of largely unplanned seedlings - sweet peas entwined with wildflower seedlings, and a few other things that will no doubt surprise me come Spring.

A hyacinth bulb getting ready to flower.

Also, in a previous post I mentioned that I have a dearth (ok - none at all) of indoor plants and that I'm very keen to have some. A number of readers commented on this, and in your wonderfully no-nonsense fashion told me to remedy this situation forthwith. Yes, it's 'sort-your-life-out-docwitch-or-at-least-your-indoor-plant-situation'...heheh. So although the budget has been very tight, and therefore the purchasing of said plants is not possible at the moment, (I remember a time when neighbours swapped seedlings and plants, and visits to nurseries were rare!). But I did unearth some sleepy red geraniums from my outdoor containers during the waxing moon, and have potted up a couple and they now sit cheerfully and ready to flower in my living room. A good start methinks.

What's happening in your garden, if you have one?

*the Koori people here (Indigenous Australians of this region) refer to us having 6 seasons rather than 4 here, and these seasons tend to make a lot more sense than our broad European-based template of Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter...but this is not my culture, and I am more 'at home' in the 4 seasons of a temperate climate and its rhythms. Yet this does heighten a sense of dissonance for me - again, the uncanny.

Full Moon Musings

2009-07-06T09:14:00.002+10:00

"Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody."

Mark Twain

Looks like yet another earnest post is unfolding here...

It's the full-moon, and I've been feeling the energy building towards it quite acutely. It seems that virtually every full moon this year to date has coincided with a major life decision or turning point for me. And once again, it seems that things have come to a head.

~Magickal Graphics~

The past 5 days or so I have been feeling particularly anti-social: haven't wanted to see anyone, I ignore the phone (my neurotic aversion to the phone has become even more pronounced lately - but truly I detest it), and I have been feeling angry. Really, really, angry. And this has surprised me, because all-in-all I am a moste contente witchity-poo these days. But it's quite a fierce anger that has seen me withdraw to my books and make guttural, growling noises at anyone who comes near me. I have been glaring balefully at my laptop too and the sundry obligations it requires. Even The Moon has been getting a more grumpy mama however much I attempt to not let it impact on her.

I realise that anger can be energising, (and I am trying to use it this way), and I have certainly been in need of an injection of energy and fire since I've been ill, as that has left me feeling quite insipid. But anger can also be a little discombobulating if the source of it is difficult to identify. In fact, I was distracted enough by my grumpy state that I even forgot to drink my morning tea. Which is a rather unique state of affairs, and which of course, helps nobody. Heh. The anger is abating now, with the moon's ascendancy, and allowing for a bit o' sweetness and light to return...

I think full-moon energy for me this month is all about boundaries and structure. And it is a Capricorn full-moon after all. Quite heavy and serious. And also, for me personally, the value of compassion seems to be a significant one right now. I find it so much easier to have compassion for other than for myself, (which is perhaps not an authentic compassion, but a projection or reflection of it, because you know all that "start with yourself before you can give to others" palaver. Or not palaver. Um...). But compassion for self is something that I need to work with, as my self-critical nature is very, very strong. I am so very good at whooping my own ass, quite unnecessarily at least some of the time it would seem. Yes, I'm a bit slow on the up-take sometimes.

Other full-moon issues for me this month involve working with realistic goal-setting, and also working with limitations (my own as well as those that are external). I need to do a certain amount of reclaiming of my space and my own rhythms, rather than bending to others and fitting with their vision of things.

It's also about the boundaries between work and home and The Bloke and I have begun just last night to hash out a realistic kind of routine wherein work doesn't constantly encroach on our home and family life, which has been the case for some months now.* And it's not sustainable as a long-term way of living. And as a result we've been feeling disconnected from one another. And we don't want that to continue. So we talked about working out our rhythms, purging some bad habits, and creating a routine (of sorts) which can create the space for reconnecting and allowing for more family time. All part of the ebb and flow of long-term relationships. Heh. And there you go, that may be a first - sharing something about my relationship with The Bloke. Erk.

But more than this, I'm also realising that so many of my creative ideas, are beginning to feel like obligations - and are even feeling a bit suffocating. I have all these expectations around me that I am going to, or should do something 'wonderful', something 'amazing', (which is bemusing and also frustrating), and people in my life have visions for me and are trying to nudge me in certain directions, and it's much like being back in academia, when I was being watched as potentially the next Young Thing in Psychoanalytic Theory, (yeah - they must have been desperate, and I wouldn't embrace that pigeonhole frankly). I resisted this. In fact, I went and, erm, had a baby. Not by any means as an act of rebellion, but because I really wanted to. And because I've never been canny about career moves. And at the first sign of pressure or expectation, I tend to run in the opposite direction. Self-defeating perhaps, but nothing could be better than having The Moon in my book.

However, my entire life I have had people trying to make me their 'project', (and perhaps I am too easily dominated, because I tend to let a lot go). They see my 'potential' and want to do something with it. So over the years I've had people trying to cast me in films, pushing me forward for singing, in academia, and even my crafting. It's not as though I'm brilliant at anything, I'm just a bit good at a few different things. Jack-of-all-trades and mistress of none whatsoever, (which is perhaps typically a bit of a Jupiter-ruled soul. If that's not getting too esoteric on yo asses). Usually I'm quite happy to just be a dabbler.

But sometimes I give in a little to anxieties that being a dabbler, a dilettante, is failing at life a bit. Or not fronting-up...or something. And then I end up feeling torn in a lot of different directions, and...nervous; not feeling very connected to anything at all. And certainly not productive. Crafting is becoming an obligation rather than a joy, and it's only ever something I have been wanting to dabble in, rather than make it my Thing. I have no wish to be categorised this way. It sucks the pleasure out of it. I'm happy to be developing my little sideline, but it will never be more than that.

I've always been very happy to potter away and have lots of different creative projects bubbling away, but more organically, and which enables me to move between projects in a more relaxed and spontaneous fashion. Now I feel constricted and as though I have to plot out my moments. And even though I am a long-term lover of the deadline, (I know, gah! But I do quite like boundaries as long as I still remain relatively autonomous), I just don't operate that way.

So, enough of the angst. I've been gaining a lot of clarity over the past week, and recognise the need to ground and protect my creative energy, and also myself, and my own rhythms. This may mean reclaiming my inner Morning Person *cue screams of horror as readers become aware of the true depths of my depravity*. Yes. I am actually a Morning Person in disguise. I'm happiest when rising with the sun, and doing my sun salutations facing east, going out for an early morning walk, and sitting down to write with my cuppa (chai or Earl Grey will suffice thankyou). All whilst there is nobody about. Or at least not my beloved family, who can be a mite distracting. Surely you know what I mean by this? This kind of rhythm makes me feel very happy and grounded indeed.

So what of you dear reader? Are you feeling any full-moon stirrings? Or what of your own rhythms? Are you able to honour them (as best we can with little children, jobs, and partners or combinations thereof)?

Now to earthy things: feeding the hungry birds our leftover porridge, baking with The Moon, and right now, a run around outside in the winter sunshine...

*Some of you who read here regularly may know that The Bloke has a full-time job as an editor of a music magazine, and he does a radio show once a week, and on top of that he was given some funding to make his feature length documentary film. So that's...erm...a lot of work.

Friday Bits and Bobs.

2009-07-03T13:26:00.005+10:00

Bread is baking, tofu is marinating, and choc chip cookies have been baked. The Moon and I are having a day at home today. It's been a bit mad of late, what with seeing people every day, and being out and about almost constantly. I don't usually like to schedule too much for The Moon, but whenever the school holidays come around we tend to have lots of people eager to land on us, and slightly demented, panic-stricken parents wanting to organise play days between their children and The Moon. Which is nice, but it can all be a bit much really, and after a week of it, we decided to stay inside, (on this very rainy, wintry day), and close the door on the world, and the pillaging hordes for a little while.

The Moon very much likes her time alone and to just potter, and she's been getting ragged, grumpy and over-stimulated lately with all the comings and goings. I do understand because I tend to be the same. Personally I find that the more a child is constantly 'entertained' and taken here there and everywhere, without time to just be and meander, often the more the out of sorts a child becomes, and the equilibrium can be a bit ruffled. Or with others, they may come to depend on being entertained and taken out and it's rods for parental backs so to speak. So we have always tended to be potterers. Of course, it depends on the child (and I am only going on my limited experience of having been one of these characters, and now having one a bit similar in that respect).

So today The Moon helped me bake bread and cookies; she's also been doing her 'broiderin', playing piano, writing a somewhat elaborate letter, and badgering me to play chess with her. She's now diving into her dress-up box and she's very content. We're content. I love slow days and their rhythms with a passion - incurable homebody that I am.

Ok, well. Following that lengthy preamble, here are some Friday bits and bobs...

*The day began with long cups of tea, that once finished were refilled. And then refilled again. We put on some music and danced together (The Moon like me is very keen on the Mediaeval Baebes), and then I sat reading my cards for a little while, and gazed out the window over the trees as they were shrouded in rain.

Morning chai and tarot. Highly civilised.

*I'm at the point of wondering whether I am taking on too many creative projects, and feel the need to create some more space in my days, (and the ol' cranium). It could all get very anxiety-making, which defeats the purpose of it all. I know I've blathered on about being in the moment, being more present and committed to my life, but I think I also need to organise my time more. Set aside times for different tasks. Although I do sometimes find it tricky to divide up my time and compartmentalise. I'm not a very compartmentalising person. Erk. Where to start? Erm...lists? Any ideas? I know how to get organised, (I am naturally a bit anal actually, not that you could tell by looking at my desk), but taking on multiple roles and creative projects is a bit daunting.

*Need to fix up my blog and add a whole swag of new and joysome links in my sidebar.

*I've been pondering my indoor plant situation, (would you believe we have none...none I tell you!). This is primarily because in our last house it was just too, too dark for indoor plants and they would die however desperately I nurtured them. I kind of lost confidence, but now three years later I find myself well established in a home that would be ideal for indoor plants of all kinds - including orchids and African violets. The light is wonderful for growing things here. Anyway, I have felt inspired about filling my rooms with foliage, especially after reading this post here by Domestic Witch.

*Enjoying listening to Australia's Decoder Ring's They Blind the Stars, and the Wild Team. Due for release later this month, it's a wonderful ride. I'm also revisiting some of Calexico's stuff, and thoroughly enjoying that vibe too : )

*On a sad note, I discovered this post about Bruno's Sculpture Garden (in Marysville which was devastated by the fires of Black Saturday earlier this year), whilst visiting one of my favourite fairytale sites, Dante's Heart. The Moon and I love this place and we were both very upset when she heard that the garden had been destroyed. There's actually a link from Dante's Heart to the "rebuilding" page.

*If there were ever any doubts as to my cat's evilness, let those doubts be now put to rest: she tears up my books. Yes. It's true. The horror, the horror! The crazy cat lady would protest that she's "noooo, she's such a sweet thing - she just wants to play and read". Ha. Oh no.

*I've been drooling over the images on this site, and fantasising about my very own gypsy-style caravan.

*My covetousness of Pretty Things, (and general tendency to frivolity), has found me haunting Etsy once again, and with all this wintry weather, I often find myself day-dreaming over Spring dresses. Like this one, and this one. But I also like this, which is possibly a more sensible option for the season.

So that's it really. I'm off to bake some vegies for dinner, and do some more sewing. Bestest for the weekend.

Lovely Bloggy Things

2009-07-03T08:28:00.004+10:00

Lately it seems as though every time I attempt to sit down and post, something, or someone, intervenes and I'm thrown into real-time living, (no bad thing I realise, and all part of my attempting to be more in the present). But I have been missing me' interwebs.

I've been loving everyone's comments on my last post - the ways and means by which you each remain grounded and present, and your responses in general. I now have a little list of things posted above my noggin - reminders/prompts/suggestions, for when I am feeling a bit scattered or vacant, (alarmingly frequent states for me I'm afraid), largely drawn from everyone's strategies. I realise that this may seem a bit naff of me...but it actually works.

It reads:

How to Not Flap Around Like a Fart in a Windstorm (title borrowed from Mel)

Journalling: do Morning Pages daily, (from The Artist's Way)

Dance you crazy witch, dance!

Giggle with The Moon, (don't need to be reminded of this one)

Create something. Maybe not another bag...

Get thee to a warm bath. This instant.

Have a cup of chai, (not that my profligacy in this area needs any encouragement).

Do some yoga.

Meditate, (but remember to close eyes so as not to be distracted and duly horrified by the layers of dust that lurk on top of shelves and sundry items of furniture, reminding me of my slatternly ways).

Bake bread. Or cookies as it may be. Make sure to add twice the amount of chocolate suggested in recipe.

Get outside and walk. And yes I know it's bloody freezing out there, but don't be so soft. It's only an Australian Winter you Great Wuss docwitch. ('Freezing' is 13 degrees celsius. Heh).

Commune with the cards, (Oh Druidcraft Tarot, how I love thee).

Potter in't garden and whisper sweet nothings to the broccoli plants and sweet pea seedlings, (and thou shalt not scoff - it works they are looking decidedly perky).

And despite the fact that the last week or so has found me doing a good deal of farty-like flapping, I have been feeling calmer, clearer and more focused. Maybe it's also the energy shifting since Solstice. Hmm...

Anyway. Onwards and upwards.

A little while ago, Mel and Mountain Mama gave me this award...

And you've just got to love a teacup filled with roses don't ya?

Thanks lovelies!

So. Da Rules.

1. Copy and paste the picture to your blog, accepting the award, with a link back to the person who honoured you.

2. Send the award forth to (I think it's 15) other blogs that you have newly discovered. I've not been around much, so I think 15 new blogs may be pushing it. I have plenty of not-new blogs I could rave about, but I'll stick to the rules and post some of my new discoveries...but I'll list 10 instead.

3. Leave a note for your recipients to come and collect their award.

And here they are in no particular order...

Tales of Inglewood

Live Wildly

The Everyday Witch

Through the Eye of the Needle

So enjoy visiting them, they are all very delicious.

I actually feel another post coming on. Maybe some 'Friday Bits and Bobs' later today.

The Gentle(?) Art of Surrendering. And My Crap Personality Traits in General.

2009-06-28T21:49:00.006+10:00

The outlaws have just left for the evening, (they're here until Wednesday, and as my brother said, "well, that's not so bad. But I s'pose a lot of damage can be done in 5 days". Um, thanks dear bruvver.

I'm sitting here, winding down with a glass of wine. It hasn't been a bad couple of days, (and that's even having spent the entire day with said outlaws yesterday, which can often be a recipe for tension). We visited the Collingwood Children's Farm, (oh how I could wax on the delights thereof - bloody marvelous place, and very picturesque at any time of the year). The Moon - my city child - managed to milk a cow! We were both utterly thrilled. Although at first The Moon was reluctant and whispered to me that she wasn't so keen on the idea of "touching a cow's boob" *Blink, blink*. But true to her Gemini contrariness, she suddenly changed her mind and was in boots and all, milking away. Woohoo!

The Moon and a flock of geese: mutual bemusement. The Moon declared them and all their honking "a bit dramatic".

But bucolic bliss is not really where this post is heading. I should really be tottering off to bed very soon, as I have been promising myself earlier nights for ages. Somehow it rarely happens. I've been making myself all sorts of promises lately, which is partly why I haven't been 'round the blogging traps very much. I've spent a good deal of time working on pattern designs for my etsy shop, (think I've nailed it - it's actually been quite involved), and I've been looking at our set-up here in regards to homeschooling. It's quite amazing how different one's home can appear when viewed through a potential homeschooling lens. If anyone has any tips, or ideas as to how to set-up your home so that it's a good place for a child to be all of the time, not just some of the time, then I'd be very appreciative! What have you done? What's been useful for you?

But this is actually the navel-gazing post. Yup. Sorry. *sound of swiftly retreating feet as aghast Reader runs in opposite direction, and docwitch is left with the sound of a door banging, a ghostly wind howling 'round the interwebs, and sundry tumbleweeds roll across the page*. If there is anyone left at this point, hold onto your hats. Heh.

I've been doing a fair bit of thinking (singular, I know), largely about the choices I make, my attitudes and how I live my life. Putting it all under the microscope so to speak. Not that I am unhappy, nor that this is a novel thing for me to do, (I am a chronically self-critical witchypoo), but this self-examination has taken a different turn in the past few months. I've been privileged enough to have this hiatus, this Year of Wonders as I refer to it, and instead of operating in a state of constant stress/survival mode, the calm that has descended has highlighted to me a number of characteristics I possess, that are, well...confronting to say the least. But I've had a lot more compassion for myself and can look at them without whipping myself so hard, or feeling like a completely crap person. Well, almost. But I can also no longer ascribe these traits/habits/flaws or whatever they may be to the situation I'm in, or the stress I'm under. Some of them may have developed under these conditions, and have become deeply ingrained, but many of them now serve no good purpose, and need to be shed. They are encumbrances.

The calmer and quieter I become, the more I realise how lacking in mindfulness I am. How impatient a person I am, ( I have always, even since I was a tiny person wanted to do everything yesterday - partially due to a kind of manic, intense excitement that is at least partially physical and difficult to explain. At times it borders on ecstasy), and how very skittish in regards to commitment of any kind I am. In fact, I am famously non-committal a lot of the time and very hard to pin down. Many find this issue of mine with commitment difficult to believe or comprehend because here I am with a child, a monogamous relationship of 17 years, and a mortgage (eek - the mortgage part I still hyperventilate over), a Phd (which required a considerable amount of focus, but I was always on the verge of quitting the blasted thing). But, truly - and no, she doth not protest too much - I don't embrace commitment. How I appear on paper, or from the outside is not the whole picture. Those very few souls who know me well know how difficult and rare it is to get to know me at all. To get me to show up. How I flit and retreat, and drift off easily. Often never to be heard from again, (I said goodbye to people every few months of my life as a child and I think I developed a bad habit of just wandering off when the time came to do so). And often the more emotionally vulnerable I feel the more skittish I become, although there are rare exceptions.

I always live life with a back-up plan for the back-up plan and this tends to make me very un-spontaneous. A bit sad I know. Again, this seems to contradict the fact that I am happy to 'spontaneously' get up and dance and then run into the sea naked, but that impulse seems to spring from a deep need for freedom and physical and emotional expression. In other ways I can be incredibly controlled. Contained and aloof. And I really don't mean to be, but I realise it can be alienating to others at times and this is a constant source of mortification to me.

I also tend to live life always with one eye on the exit, which means I tend to not enter entirely into the heart of living. Emotionally I can go there, and in fact tend to feel everything to such an intense degree that it can be debilitating, but as far as the getting out in the external world and doing and living, well, I tend to wander about a bit in a daze. I don't see what's going on around me. I place a filter between myself and the world. Or I'm processing too much inwardly and tend to feel exhausted by what's going on around me. I distance myself from my reality, and so I find it difficult to be present. I'm always "elsewhere", and sometimes I actually jump, startled, to find myself in certain places, talking to people, because I have "gone" somewhere else completely. Oh yes, strange looks abound and I get asked if I'm "on" anything. And no, I'm not. It's not too much of an exaggeration when I say that I just about hallucinate on aspirin, and have for the greater part, (and the odd adolescent experiment aside), stayed well and truly clear of substances...bar a bit o' red wine. Oh and mead. And champagne, and pomegranate martinis...oh bollocks. You know what I mean. Anyway, I'm a two-pot screamer so I don't go hard on anything. I don't even do coffee because it has intense and bizarre effects upon me.

Anyway. I digress...erm, again. So, instead of keeping the exits wide open and one startled racehorse's eyeball on the back door, I am now at a stage where I would like to give myself over to where I am, who I am and what I'm doing. Even writing that down seems to stir up a whole cauldron of emotions. I've certainly been imbibing more alcohol than usual at the thought of lessening the filter between the outer and inner life. Entering into the heart of my life, and really being there in the mess and beauty. Being present. Not looking forward some future moment, and neither wandering off in my imagination somewhere. I mean, it is partly who I am and who I have always been, and I'm not one for throwing out the baby with the bathwater, and fighting that part of my nature that just makes me who I am, but there does need to be some reconnection now that the daily assault has ceased and I can breathe again.

Quite simply the life I have right now is the life that I want, (and it's far from perfect and I ain't no bloody Pollyanna. I'm quite, quite broke for a start), and that idea can be confronting in itself. I realise that I am even a little ashamed of who I am. Gah. But it's true. I feel a like a bit of a failure on one level, on another I feel stronger and that I am being true to who I really am and that way I will be able to contribute something. I am now being bombarded with ideas and creative projects and feel more awake than I have in years. I'm not afraid of hard work, and can work obsessively and ferociously hard, but it is working out in the world and according to someone else's imperative, that is absolute anathema to me, that is actually destructive to me, (and I have been 'in the world' in so many forms and guises). Quite frankly, and perhaps dramatically, I would prefer to not exist. It actually comes down to that. It doesn't even feel like a choice, because as much as I try, I can't force myself into the mould that is required. I. Don't. Fit. And I really, really don't want to be there.

And now, finally, there is no longer the "when things get less stressful/easier/better I will do this, and this...". It's now. Things are better and less stressful. There is no easy escape into a future moment. It is time to surrender. As cliched as that sounds. I'm beginning to sound like the self-help books that I so deeply despise.

But I need to (re)learn how to be present. So. The plan - and yes, I usually have a plan so feel free to shake me until my teeth rattle - actually involves very simple, practical things that can help to ground me: yoga, meditation, adequate sleep (a lifelong challenge for me, as I was a hyperactive child who literally did not sleep more than a few hours per night for the first 5 or so years of my life, and still find it hard to not be awake), a healthy diet (not hard for me), and remembering to listen. To watch. To be still.

What do you do to feel more present in your life? In the moment? Is this challenging for you? Do you seek to be more present? Please share if you feel like doing so.

My Teacup Runneth Over. And All That.

2009-06-24T17:51:00.006+10:00

Doesn't life just have this way of coming at you between cups of chai (and morning glasses of champagne shared with Sol y luna), and other meaningful things, like the reading of novels?

And speaking of the booksiessss, as a witchypoo who now frequents the local community library instead of being one of those spoiled and rarefied creatures that has access to the best university libraries in the country, I now find myself in a state of reader anxiety. Apart from being spoilt, this is due to the fact that I am actually a slow reader, (odd really, because I walk fast and write fast), who likes to digest books at stately pace, rather than inhale them. I have no qualms about admitting this either, despite the fact that I am often looked at askance, (and rather smugly), by other readers who boast of their speedy reading pyrotechnics, but who then cannot recall various conversations between characters, quotes, or the emotional tone of certain passages. Show-offs. But then, I'm just bitter because I really am Slooow. Like a cow with her cud. Gazing bovinely across the meadow. Except with tea.

Anyways, whereas as a university staff member I had the luxury of an entire month to read a book, I now only have between 1-2 weeks. And what between the reading and writing of blogs, well, that can amount to an out-and-out dilemma. For when I have a stack of books before me, this is a recipe for a certain amount of (neurotic) anxiety. How will I get through them before I have to relinquish them to those...Other Readers? (and how dare they want my books...ahem...*has disturbing Gollum-like expression on face at this point*). Anyway, I am faced with a kind of literary Sophie's Choice in which I have to chooooose between the books I am going to read, and the ones I just don't have time for. Ruthlessness versus Bibliophilia. This is downright tormenting.

But enough complaining. Of late, I have been a Moste Greedsome (it's a word, because I am a Book Doctor and I says so) Slattern, and I've been indulging my penchant for Solstice cake (among Other Things) following the wee celebration we had here on Sunday eve.

Our little winter display.

Winter merriment was certainly the tone of the evening. Ah lovely. And my word! I am feeling somewhat bilious as a result. Don't know how people do the lots-of-rich-food-and-drink as an every day thing. It certainly has a massive impact upon my health, energy, mood - everything. But it's prodigious fun now and again : )

There's so much happening here behind the scenes, with all sorts of things bubbling and brewing and taking shape. I'm feeling a certain amount of sensory overload at the moment. Certainly not unpleasant, but I do feel like a child in a lolly shop with so many goodies to choose from and so much to do. It certainly is turning out to be a Year of Wonders. And I'm now going to have to be careful of not spreading myself, or my energy too thin.

For starters: homeschooling The Moon. We just received notification from the Dept. of Carrots up their Bottoms that we have been given the big tick to go ahead with homeschooling. So. It's all very real now. We've spoken to The Moon's Principal this morning, and she's willing to offer her support which is a very good thing. This means that Moon will continue to see her music teacher up at the school once a week. She now has only 2 more days of school left and then it's the end of term, and that means the end of formal schooling for the next little chapter of our lives. Eek!

And with all the other ideas and plans and things I'll be doing, (including my Etsy business, painting my kitchen, revamping the music room/study which is currently the Room of Doom, and finally confronting my thesis in order to publish bits from it and other Secret Things...cackle), I'm going to need a good strategy methinks. At least part of this strategy will be getting back to yoga which has fallen by the wayside since I was ill. I'm only just feeling as though I could tackle it again now, without falling over in some kind of melodramatic coughing fit worthy of Camille, or the hapless Mimi from La Bohème or some other consumptive chick. But I really miss yoga, and it does allow me to tap into extra reserves of energy, so I think it's time again.

And since this post is all over the show, (what's new?), why not mention that this film is coming soon. The Moon and I are very excited because we adore Miyazaki (director of the wonderful Spirited Away and Howl's Moving Castle). And musically speaking I am feeling very inspired by Radiokijada at the moment. Definitely worth a listen.

Solstice Ramblings...

2009-06-19T21:56:00.009+10:00

Night of the Fireflies, by Paulina Cassidy.

Oh I am really feeling that Solstice energy tonight! (Even though technically it's not 'til Sunday for us).

Flitting 'round some of the blogs I love to read, (I have too many to keep track of now - gah!), I feel such a sense - and here's where I get all esoteric on youse, (but please indulge me a mo' ), of interconnectedness, so much thought and healing energy shifting towards the earth and, well...the energy of compassion. Strands woven together that reflect a shared intention.

These particular pathways upon which so many of us are (inter)connected seem to have aligned themselves in many ways tonight (well, that's what I perceive), through our consideration of and focus upon the Solstice and its particular energies - as well as the care of the land and the natural world around us. But more than that, beyond the Solstice, it's seeing the creative energy that's rampant at the moment - people's goals and work being realised, and built upon.

This is what is striking me lately - the sheer amount of creativity and beauty that's being expressed by so many I'm people I'm reading and encountering. I am finding it to be a such a source of inspiration. However small these endeavours may seem at the time, they do have meaning and flesh and purpose - individually and collectively - they have power. The creativity, (and the creativity of women, though I am also thinking of a few fine blokes here) is a force to be reckoned with. Let not the 'domestic' nature of it deceive as to its power and impact in the world.

Gathering Together in Silence, by Steering for North.

And no, I'm not on something, (apart from some demned fine music I'm listening to right now). I just tend be a little...excitable at times.

We're reaching the heart of Winter here, and there have been frosts, and fogs, and cold, cold days. I give the birds our leftover porridge in the mornings, because the wee things have little to eat at this time of year, (apart from my caterpillars - grr. Go for it birdies!)

Despite the fact that it's been a mere three days since I last posted, it feels like much longer. I've been having a break from my 'pooter due largely to a technology-induced headache, (does anyone else get this from being on a 'pooter? It's the only thing that gives me a headache*, (apart from the over-consumption of chocolate sultanas, but let's not get into that episode shall we?)

I do love the interwebs, and it is a source of creative inspiration, as well as connection to a bloody lovely community of people, I'm finding that I need to spend more time on my projects, and I'm feeling a strong pull towards nurturing these at the moment. They are needing to be birthed. I do see great value in taking a blogging hiatus, but the downside of it means missing what everyone's up to, and missing those connections.

Anyway, apart from resting the square eyes, I've been busy with life and have lots coming up - including a friend's book launch and various other social engagements, an impending ~~invasion~~ visit courtesy of my in-laws, lots of reading and research, and I've also been wrapped up in lots of different projects, including developing my etsy business. This involves the drafting of patterns. My giddy aunt! I began by drafting a bag pattern and I swear it's morphed into something resembling a submarine. If anyone is interested in owning a floral fabric submarine, please step forward. Um...anyone?

But I'm particularly excited about a new, top-secret (is that too wanky?) enterprise that's been bubbling away in my brain and absorbing a good deal of my energies. I'm veerry excited about this one. And nervous for a number of reasons - but hey - that's sort of good in't it?

I'm in a particularly hobbitty mood tonight as I've also been making preparations for a very low-key Solstice celebration. So. Food. Music. Good. It also entails handmade gifts, and I've been working on these today, (cue Tom Waits: "What's [s]he building in there?" I suggest someone just throws some chocolate (at least 70% dark fair trade please!) through the window and I'll be quite content in my madness. Yes it is madness, for thou hath not seen my hair of late. I swear I may be growing wings upon my head. Don't ask. Will scrub up avec lippy anon. For now I am a wild-ish woman.

Tomorrow I plan to bake my favourite Solstice cake, with the aid of my Kitchen Assistant Extraodinaire, the Divine La Lune. And perfect winter weather it is for such a dark, seductive piece o' fruity goodness I must say. The Moon is also determined to make some gingerbread people, (yes, there shall be feminist gingerbread no less). So things will get very interesting in the kitchen, and no doubt The Moon will get flour from one end of the kitchen to t'other, thereby creating a winter wonderland as not yet seen in Melbourne.

I'm also looking forward to imbibing both mead and mulled wine this weekend. Not as incompatible as one may think, (if taken vaguely separately). And I shall make sure to raise a glass to you all - both summer and winter dwellers.

And, if you do, how shall you be spending/celebrating Solstice?

Wishing you a very happy and peaceful weekend.

*A fierce shaman dude once told me that I shouldn't be 'round 'pooters too much and TCM (Trad Chinese Medicine) docs tell me I'm very sensitive to radiation. And just about bloody everything it would seem. It's not much of an exaggeration to say that I nearly hallucinate on headache medication. Thus, I stick to the ol' chamomile.

Of Enthusiasm, Purple Bicycles, and Melons

2009-06-16T09:33:00.009+10:00

Well, I'm back in the saddle my friends. After a bit of a blogging hiatus in which I attempted to restore my mojo, (of a general nature), it's now back to bloggydom, (although I have had moments where I've considered giving away this blogging thing altogether).

The lingering illness I've had, (now soooo much better), left me with a case of the blahs. Not so much the blues, but definitely the blahs. And despite the fact that my porridge pot doth not runneth over all of the time, (quel horreur if it did, for there would be great big cold globs of porridge on me floor), I do find myself disgustingly cheerful these days. I know that this is mainly as a result of leaving my job at The Big Dumb University and becoming the crunchy hippy I always have been at heart.

But the past few weeks have had a distinct tone of blahness, which has left me feeling very unmotivated and disenchanted in general. I'm sure you know that feeling. The couch was my new best friend (pathetic, yes). And I swear I've hardly moved my body in 5 weeks or so. Not good. Although I do not subscribe to Doing Exercise of a formal nature,* I'm someone for whom engagement on a physical level - movement and physical expression - is as important as using me braaains (say this with a zombie voice). For me one doesn't happen without the other. Or at least, not without a considerable amount of irritability and general peevishness.

So, I declared a state of Enough of This and decided to get all carpe diem, which as a simple rather vapid soul involves some rather simple and vapid measures. I took myself in hand and pumped up the tango music, shook the hips around, stuck a rose in my hair, donned my red 'possum wool beret,** and applied some bright lippy. Strong chai may have also been involved, (not quite up to the tequila just yet, but by gum I'm working on it). And bloody oath it did the trick! All that red, sacral chakra energy can do a lot for insipidity and for the restoration of one's vim, (I like that word, it's the kind of word Katherine Hepburn would've used).

All of this happened to coincide with delightful blogger Mel's gorgeous wee rev olution, (which came at just the right time to spur me on). A breath of fresh air - how could I resist? Consider me inspired Mel!

I already feel at home in the bosom of such a Sisterhood, (note the sentence about waving without knowing the other person will wave back. Welcome to my day. And mostly people don't wave back at the crazy lady, but that's ok). And 'fess up - who of you at least secretly wouldn't want to ride a purple bicycle? I mean really. I have visions of stripey tights going like the clappers on those pedals. Love. It.

So check it out.

Another reason to be all bouncy is me melons. Jenell of The Eye of the Needle, (another blog I am thrilled to have found lately), has given me this fun award-y. Thanks Jenell : )

And in accepting these melons, I declare six things wot make me happy:

1. A rich wool rug laid before a fireplace in which a fire is crackling cosily away. Gathering with friends and sitting on cushions in front of said fire, and drinking mulled wine, stitching, reading, drawing, listening to music and chatting into the wee hours. With gingerbread and chai between drinks.

2. Being on my lonesome, and just wandering - mostly just invisibly and observing. But I also have days where I slip on a silk dress, let my hair down, (literally as I wear it up a lot), and put on some bright red lippy. I take myself off for a glass of champagne, (in the morning), and sit and read in my favourite chocolate shop. Then I might go to the library, a fabric shop (so I can stroke all the pretty fabrics), get into conversations with travellers, see a film, and maybe drop in for a chat with the gorgeous women at Spellbox. Sweet and delicious freedom.

3. Just so you don't think all of the things that make me happy involve alcohol, I'm also very happy to be a complete homebody and work on various craft projects, such as this quilt I (finally) finished off a coupla days ago.

(The fabrics are 'Empress Woo' - kind of 1920's Paris meets Shanghai). Quilt is now cosily installed on the ol' marital bed.

4. Seeing The Moon's face so happy, excited and full of pride when we collect the ceramic plate (post glazing and firing) she painted at her birthday party. In fact, seeing all the little girls' faces who attended the Moon's party when we give them their plates, and seeing the expressions of revelation and wonder as they declare "I made this!" and seeing their belief in their ability to create truly beautiful art.

5. Meditating and walking in a big pine forest where there is not another soul around.

6. Last, (but never least), yoga and music. These don't just make me happy, they are my air and water. This wee ditty is making me very happy at the moment; and whilst predictable of me perhaps, (and maybe even a little bizarre?), Beethoven's Symphony no. 9 (Ode to Joy - the finale). Even as a very small child this music filled me with utter, unadulterated ecstasy and I always had to run and spin around like a mad thing whenever I heard it...hehheh. And the violin in this makes me come apart at the seams, (and although I know it's quite chocolate box, it's also beautiful).

So, there are lots of lovely blogettes I could nominate here - Lisa over at 5 Orange Potatoes, Willow at That's Not My Monkey, Jumbleberry Jam, Ruth (A Drop in the Ocean) and The Awakened Heart (and knowing her as a friend, this woman makes me laugh like no other I tell you). So come have some fun with me, but it's not your thing, that's cool too : )

Ok, I'm off to work on some Solstice presents for a Do we're having chez docwitch this weekend. May your melons be juicy.

*Those close to me know of my distaste for gyms, and my dark and lurid fantasies that involve their complete obliteration from the face of the planet - along with Starbucks and MacDonalds et al.

**I promise you that no 'possums were harmed for this program of Docwitch Rejeuvenation

The Moon is Seven.

2009-06-09T12:36:00.008+10:00

Yes, I know. Seven.

I won't bollox on about my health again*. However, I am tempted to bollox on about time flying and where did it go and all that. But really, where has it gone?? As of June the 6th, and after a rather delightful party of little girls painting and eating birthday cake (exquisitely decorated by Sol y Luna**), I now have a girl-child of seven. Let me sit down a moment, whilst I recover from a slight attack of the vapours.

Only a very short while ago, (and keen to share a joke from when she was just the tiniest little thing), this was The Moon...

(aka Moonicus, Spoonicus, Moonbeam, Moono, Moon-balloon, Moon-spoon, Schmoo, Sporticus, Moonster, Moonbuggy, Mooncake. And Dun-din(?)

And now The Moon is a tall, sweet and funny girl of 7 years old. Her eyes smile when she smiles, and she has the most infectious giggle. She doesn't follow or conform, yet she has the gift of going with the flow and giving to others. She's a kind-hearted girl, who isn't mean and doesn't comprehend the meanness of others. She is dexterous and coordinated and uses it to great comic advantage. She is a real Gemini, a restless little soul, (and an impatient one with an Aries moon), who loves to chatter and talk on the phone and change her mind a dozen times before her Libran mother has even made up her mind once. Changeable? Oui. But she knows her own mind and isn't easily influenced.

The Moon loves art, and music, colour, and clothes and isn't afraid to use all of them at once. She is frequently her own canvas. She draws and paints obsessively and dreams up funny little narratives...

...whereby it is the dolphin, not the "stupid prince" who gets the mermaid in the end...(note victory breach of said dolphin).

And she seems to intuitively understand the disturbing nature of clowns***

Spiky Clown Girl, by The Moon.

And so I look at my little character, and wonder where she came from, (it's ok, I don't need The Talk, I worked that bit out already).

And here is my birthday present to The Moon.

Her very own patchwork quilt.

Made from fabric I had, or have been given: a gorgeous Kaffe Fassett, Anna-Maria Horner, Amy Butler and Heather Bailey. Very colourful, with lots of yellow (the Moon's fave colour).

And yet again, the full moon, (I mean the celestial body), brought a major issue to a head, and a decision has been made to homeschool The Moon. Eek. But it feels right. We're going to give it 6 months (minimum) to see how it goes, and are currently applying the VQRA (who are a pack of passive aggressive idiots who are already attempting to police me and 'protect' my child from the likes of homeschooling nutters like myself. Grr.) at the Ed dept. I'm feeling very vulnerable already, but I will don my armour for the blitzkrieg of detractors and nay-sayers.

But that's a whole other post.

Happy full moon (in Saggitarius - woohooo!) to you.

*except to say that I'm still not better, and will probably have to be checked out for pneumonia. I'm just very, very annoyed about this, as I'm taking such good care of myself, and have been for ages. There, whinge over.

**And I must note, that although I have no cake decorators in my acquaintance, I do have lovely friends who know how to do henna body painting. A highly transferable talent when it comes to icing a cake.

***Apologies to Sol y Luna and Mon for any trauma sustained as a result of viewing clown picture. Hehe.

The Childbirth Song.

2009-06-04T17:44:00.004+10:00

Well, I'm still residing in the Land of the Unwell, and I feel too blah to be blogging, or spending too much time on't interwebs. So, I'm just dropping in briefly. I've been in need of a chuckle*, so I dug this nugget out of the vaults, (it's probably done the blog rounds some time ago, but I think it's worth posting here).

Yes, indeedy, it's Helen Austin's Childbirth Song. Possibly funnier if you've had some experience of said child-birthing, erm, venture.

*and red wine, but that's off the menu lately - it's been nearly 4 weeks since my last tipple. 4 weeks, I tell you! I'm sure if you're procreating, gestating, breast feeding, or generally avoid alcohol, you probably think I am a complete wuss. Ok then. Fair enough. But think on this for a moment: no bread, and no wine. I suppose there's always brie.

May in Review.

2009-06-02T14:34:00.004+10:00

As the calendar has flipped over to June now, (June - my word!), it's time for the monthly review, (format courtesy of Holistic Mama).

May in Review.

Summary
May seemed to be mostly about my child's ongoing education issues, as we tossed around a number of different ideas and options, including home schooling. We're very close to making a decision at this point, but it hasn't been easy. I've also been working behind the scenes on my 'kitchen table' business. This month has also been about my health - as I've lurched from a detox, to worrying about a phantom lump in my breast, to a chest-and-sinus infection - bleurgh...bored now.

Fun.
Going to see the Persuasion exhibition with a good friend and former work colleague who I haven't seen for a couple of months, making fresh vegie juices, watching Around the World in 80 Gardens, sewing The Moon a winter nightie from this fabric, and watching the world outside my window fall still and quiet as the wintry mist rolls in over the hills and trees of an evening.

Challenging.
Health matters - being ill and stranded on my couch. I'm not good at being cooped up and inactive for any length of time, (nearly three weeks). Also the fact that whenever I get a cold, however much I take care of myself, it usually always deteriorates and I end up with sinus infections and respiratory complications, (due largely to asthma), that have me on the verge of being rushed to the hospital in the middle of the night. Could do without the bloody drama thanks.

Also, I have to be the worst, most irritable, crotchety patient in the history of witchypoo patients; and I've gone almost completely deaf in one ear, so I end up mishearing everything, and shouting like the Aged Parent in Dickens's Great Expectations. Except that the Aged P. is actually endearing, whereas I am just out-and-out cantankerous. When asked by The Bloke if I would like a cup of tea, I mis-hear the kind offer and reply grumpily, "no, I do not need to pee, and what kind of a question is that anyway? I'm merely unwell, not losing my faculties", and that sort of thing. (I do not ask for pity for myself dear reader, but please pity my poor family).

Thoughtful.
That trusting myself is a big issue for me, and yet I have no good reason not to, and more than that, it's crucial that I do trust myself more, not only for my sake, but especially for my little girl.

An Insight/Thought.
That saying yes to the things that I'm afraid of, (within reason), can be hugely liberating, and a good confidence builder.

Website/Blog find.
Poisson Rouge - a magical site that The Moon and I both love to play on.

Words (quote/reading/book recommendation/1 sentence review/anything word-related).
I actually have two quotes this month:

"If we are to reach real peace in this world and if we are to carry on a real war against war, we shall have to begin with children; and if they will grow up in their natural innocence, we won't have to struggle, we won't have to pass fruitless idle resolutions, but we shall go from love to love and peace to peace, until at last all the corners of the world are covered with that peace and love for which consciously or unconsciously the whole world is hungering" - Mahatma Gandhi.

And:

"Never trust a man who, when left alone in a room with a tea cozy, doesn't try it on" - Billy Connolly.

Note to self.
Don't play the piano whilst running a bath. Bad, bad docwitch.

Fave tip/idea from the web.
This reading list (from www.folkstory.com - Centre for Story and Symbol), which have links to some beautiful reading materials.

Slice of Home (a photo of a tiny corner of your home, or objects, that represent something about this month).

A reading/play corner in our living room where The Moon and I hang out and do our stuff. She reads, plays music, does her puppetry, crafts, and generally potters about whilst I sit and plug away at my quilting. (Those are fabric 'goody bags' in the foreground, as we prepare for The Moon's birthday party this weekend).

Friday Bits and Bobs.

2009-05-29T20:42:00.006+10:00

Not sure if this will become a tradition or not, these Friday bits. And bobs. But it's the kind of blogging that seems to suit my brain, so it'll do for now.

So, let's make it completely random then shall we?

- Everyone is sick up 'ere in our little pile in the sky. Not at deaths door or nuthin', but we're suitably pathetic. And I am a bit grumpy.

- Which reminds me, if anyone out there is making a horror film and needs a suitable extra, I'm available, (but no press please). My particular talent du jour is "grave-digger's cough", with "mad dishevelled appearance". Will pass convincingly as generally heinous, story-book witch. Possibly wraith at a stretch. I also do a good turn as a hobgoblin, (vertically challenged). Have broom, will travel.

- I enjoyed the Persuasion exhibition I saw last weekend. In fact, I've always felt that I'd be very happy to get around in clobber like that, and I find it very comfortable indeed. Some of what I wear isn't that far off this actually...

Round gown, 1802.

- This week I've been trying to find good bursts of concentrated time to look at academic journals, with the aim of finally getting off my behind and publishing stuff from my PhD thesis. Which has been languishing and neglected for so long, I swear there are now cobwebs and worms in there.

-Due to illness, preoccupation over The Moon's schooling, baking, and life in general, I have failed to find even a small amount of concentrated time for any such endeavour. This has churned up the undercurrents of my usual existential angst. I quietly panic as my brain turns to slush, and wonder whether my life, and any shred of a goal or ambition will be engulfed by the calm but rising waters of blackberry crumble baking, and domesticity in general. As pleasant and seductive as it is, every now and then the witch needs to get her head out of the oven.

- Having conundrums about where this blog is headed. Wondering if it should Be Something, (rather than piffle). And why it actually needs to head anywhere...? I think it may just remain a Book of Dodgy Days, an untrimmed, lard-ridden record. And as a rather vacuous outlet for my excess of nervous energy. I think I find it hard to take blogging seriously for some reason. Although there are so many incredible blogs that are offering up some very cool and fabulous subject matter, for some reason, I can only ever see my blogging as a bit o' this and a bit o' that.As something I do when I'm not writing. Lightweight, and insubstantial. I'm trying to work out whether that soothes or irritates me. Probably both. Ugh. Let it be.

- Finding myself tuning into music that has a wintry vibe, and making one of my seasonal compilations. But winter vibes completely aside, I'm also listening to Justin Adams and Juldeh Camara, and Brooklyn outfit Grizzly Bear.

-Really looking forward to seeing My Year Without Sex and really, really want to see the new Charlie Kaufman film, Synedoche.

- Finding that I could become a complete recluse. No matter how much time I spend alone I never feel restless nor crave company. I consider it a dreadful flaw in my makeup, and I'm sure it's terminally anti-social.

Reading Je Suis Australienne: Remarkable Women in France, 1880-1945, by Rosemary Lancaster.

- The Moon continues to enjoy reading a long-standing favourite of hers: Big Mama Makes the World. And her fascination with Uluru is both bemusing and delightful...

The Moon painting this afternoon, (big Aussie that she is).

-War has been declared on the caterpillars that have invaded my garden. I usually try the 'live and let live' approach, but my tiny garden, (and my precious few broccoli plants) are under siege. So, I have become ruthless, and pick the little green scourges off the leaves and toss 'em to the birds. The birds are doing quite well out of us at the moment, as I give them porridge leftovers throughout the colder months.

- Every year I like to check out the Artisan Books 'Beanie Exhibition'. This is a case of the utterly mundane as sublime. And this exhibition opens in just a little more than 2 weeks from now.

- Oh and all of my knickers have disappeared again, (like they did earlier in the week). I think perhaps it is an omen of something foreboding, (well, I mean, it's hardly a good sign is it?).

Ok, it's bedtime for me. Have a good weekend, all.

Yoga Cookies. And the Baking Thereof.

2009-05-28T17:51:00.008+10:00

Thanks muchly to all who commented on my previous post. I've got some great home/unschooling links to explore now, and plenty of food for thought. This blogging thing is quite amazing isn't it? I think I'd still be flailing around like some bloody woman in a Chekhov play if it weren't for some of this bloggy community I've found.

Now, after a couple of rather weighty and somewhat earnest posts here, (not to mention loooong), I thought I'd offer you some light relief, in the form of a cookie recipe. Sometimes there just needs to be cookies. Happy for that to be a metaphor for...whatever.

So just when you thought it was safe, I'm now going to get all crunchy on yo asses. Because these trés delish morsels are of the organic, wholefoods variety. They're dairy free and have honey instead of sugar in 'em. And they smell like a wholefoods store. In a good way, I promise. And they're quite a mouthful despite their petite demeanour.

I hadn't made these for ages having mislaid the recipe when I moved house, two and a half years ago. Ahem. Every now and again I think to myself that I really must have a good fossick for it. But then, the other day it kind of just fell on my head, (along with a few kilos worth of recipe books that decided to leap out at me from my kitchen cupboard). Petrified my giblets it did. Dangerous business this baking lark. Never underestimate the concussing powers of a Moosewood cookbook.

This isn't actually a gluten free recipe, (erk), because I had run out of GF flours. But rice flour and tapioca flour would probably work quite well.*

Fings wot go into the cookies. Oats and honey. Good.

We call these 'Yoga Cookies' chez docwitch. The name kind of evolved from their original name, of 'Sivananda Oatmeal Cookies', from the Sivananda yoga people, which is where I found the recipe years ago. I adapted it because the quantities stated in their recipe would feed an army of yogis, (if you'll forgive the slightly oxymoronic imagery there).

So I halved the ingredients, and added some other bits, and find that I still get the same amount of cookies out of the batter (about 20) as the original recipe. And of roughly the same size too. Hmmm...don't know what's going on there. Wooooo. Spooky. But there you go. Variations can include but are not restricted to dark chocolate chips, (for a dash of hedonism), and pistachios, or pecans, or walnuts are also demned fine.

'Ere 'tis...

Yoga Cookies.

(makes about 20 x 3" cookies)

Ingredients:

1 and 3/4 cups of oatmeal (or rolled oats that has been whizzed a little to make them slightly finer)

1 and 1/4 cups of plain wholewheat (wholmeal) flour

1 tspn of baking powder

1/2 cup of raisins

1/2 cup of chopped almonds or hazelnuts

1/2 cup of almond meal

1/2 cup of good quality oil (I use organic sunflower)

3/4 cup of honey

3/4 cup of soy milk or almond milk (or moo milk if you will)

pinch of salt

1/2 tspn of grated nutmeg

1 tspn of cinnamon

3/4 tspn of ground ginger

The Method:

Bung all the wet ingredients in together. Then sift the flour and baking powder into a bowl and add the rest of the dry ingredients and mix well. Then stir the wet ingredients into the dry. Shape cookies into little round morsels of about 3". Place on a tray lined with baking paper, and bake at 180 degrees C, (350F) for about 15-20 mins, or until golden in hue, (but keep an eye on them, especially if you have a quick oven like mine, as the honey content means that they can be susceptible to burning).

Result!

Good thing about these is that they cool quickly. And if you have ~~predators~~ family member circling nearby, I suggest you squirrel at least some of them away for yourself, because they will be wolfed.

*I haven't actually tried making this particular recipe with GF flour, (which means I can't eat them boo hiss). If anyone has any favourite GF flours for making cookies in particular, I would be very happy to get any tips.

Of Education and Confused Parental Intuition.

2009-05-26T10:00:00.012+10:00

As regular readers will know, The Moon's education has been a cause for concern for us lately. It seems that whilst the school is (it seems) genuinely trying to do something about the situation, and trying to help improve things for our girl, I am still wondering whether The Moon is even suited to ' the system' at all. She is who she is, but as to what suits her best, I'm not sure what the best course of action is. And I think partly it's a flaw in me - in trusting my intuition. In trying to work out what my intuition is actually telling me. I'm feeling some deep resistance on a number of levels, which I shall discuss anon.

The Bloke and I have just this morning had a meeting with The Moon's school Principal, and I'm trying to work out exactly what it is that I'm feeling at this point. A little melancholy, frustrated, also reassured (?), slightly rail-roaded...and lost. Lost in The System. As it is so easy to become. At this juncture, I'm still very uncertain as to what path to follow, and feel yet again I'm at a crossroads. But it's more than me, it's The Moon standing at the crossroads with me. It's her with the red hood and little basket of goodies, and she bravely goes out into the wild woods of the world every single day, returning intact to me, but a little ruffled 'round the edges. A little bruised.

She needs me to be there and to help guide her along the best possible path - For her, not me. But it has to work for all involved. She's too little to decide that path herself, and although we make loads of decisions for our children every single day, (less the older they get obviously), I'm feeling the weight of that responsibility fairly heavily right now. And on a fundamental level, I do find it hard to make decisions for myself let alone other people. I'm not someone who can just step in, take over and run the show. I'm not one of those practical, pragmatic types who run committees and school fetes, (which I generally tend to avoid if possible), and says, "right, this is what we're doing, so let's just Do. It". Where does such confidence come from?

I tend to angst a bit and get all abstract and see the full spectrum of possibilities, instead of a single-pointed focus. Woefully indecisive too. I constantly question myself and what I'm doing. I feel as though I'm always getting it wrong and find it hard to trust a course of action, or rather myself. I'm aware that this has a lot to do with the way I was mothered. But I don't want to let my girl down, and have her ask me down the track why we didn't do something.

Well, I suppose we are doing something. We're talking to the school and seeing if they can help us resolve some of the issues that are troubling The Moon. But my intuition on this issue is clouded by all sorts of things: emotion, the opinions of others, my thoughts and critical thinking,(sometimes a good thing, sometimes not), and also the wider culture we live in.

Intuition has normally never been an issue for me in a lot of areas of my life. Unless I have gone against it, and as a result I've nearly always come a bit of a cropper. My intuition is certainly not infallible, and sometimes it can be coloured by unconscious ideology, biases, and skittish thoughts. Sometimes intuition is in need of excavation, and some peace and quiet in order for it to make itself clear and even heard at all.

Generally speaking, I'm not someone who is black and white about things. It's both a blessing and a curse I've discovered. There are few things in life about which I'm certain. One of them being that there is no certainty, there is no One Truth or Great Philosophy. Each to their own an' all that. That there are usually always nuances and open-endedness and particularity. There are a couple of issues about which I have very clear and strong opinions, but on the whole, they are rare.

But I do tend to get a bit confused at times, and whilst I have always had quite strong flashes of insight, very clear dreams about seemingly trivial things (that often come true, and um, are on the whole very trivial), and I can pick up my phone in readiness for a phone call I am not 'expecting' a couple of minutes before I receive it; none of this is, well, very bloody useful at all when it comes to my parenting intuition. Or acting on it. I'll do a swag of research, and get all sorts of theories and ideas under my belt, and then not actually have a clue as to what I'm going to do with any of them, or which ones to use. In short, dear reader, there is a huge gaping hole in my confidence.

Back to The Moon's education. We are considering a range of options, within our resources and capabilities, that run the gamut from keeping her where she is, and seeing if things improve, all the way to homeschooling, (which I didn't think we would consider at this stage, and although I quite love the idea on one level, I also have to admit to having some serious reservations about this too). So I'm assessing these two options here in this post. We've looked into Steiner and find it hugely appealing, but all the waiting lists are full for state-run streams, and we can't afford to pay fees right now, (even though we're now average income earners, it doesn't stretch that far).

Every option has its advantages and disadvantages, its pros and cons. I think we can get so caught up defending our decisions that we can become defensive about them, and unbalanced, and rather than acknowledging the downside, we get all territorial and go in to fight for The Cause - whatever it might be. (Gawd - just look at the knock-down fights that still continue over stay at home mothers versus mothers who work outside of the home. Counterproductive but very, er...lively. And divisive).

But there are always pitfalls to whatever we choose. Sometimes they are clear from the outset, but not always. There are hidden traps and snares along the way as the Ol' Hood herself will tell you, and often of the psychological kind. How much of our own projections and wounding do we project onto the experiences of our children? Hopefully self-awareness can help us temper that.

So, a balance sheet of sorts. Pros and cons, (as I perceive them).

On state schooling...

perceived disadvantages:

Generally inadequate so far for us, and The Moon just doesn't gel with her teacher. At all. I am trying not to think of him as a mediocre buffoon. But it's hard not to, for reasons I won't bore you with here.

Also, there's a disadvantage in applying one template for 20 children. This is the way the system functions, and 1 teacher to 20 children means that the curriculum is devised this way out of practical necessity. But one size never fits all, and from what I can tell, they're not taking into account all the different 'learning styles'. Children do slip through the net in a system such as this. It's inevitable. One of those children happens to be mine.

Although getting along with others and learning to peacefully coexist is a part of life, who wants their child to be the one constantly making room for more domineering or disruptive children? It starts to have an impact on their personality and how they operate in a group context. Their identity. There is a group of dominant (boys) children in The Moon's class, and they have some fairly serious behavioural issues. They need almost constant management at the expense of the quieter children who want to learn. These other children miss out. And The Moon is very anxious and jumpy as a result of the teacher's 'growliness', (and shouting which I think is unnecessary), as he is constantly pulling this group of boys into line. But not very effectively I might add. The Principal will not consider moving The Moon to another class. I'm prepared to see her point of view on this.

The Moon's natural creativity and enthusiasm for learning seems diluted and dulled. She has lost momentum in all sort of ways. She is somehow...diminished. She is stressed by lots of noise (even productive noise, so I think this issue is partly her nature. A lot like mine in this respect).

The Moon is a participant in the wider social culture of the school, that also reflects diversity, which can also be crapola and bland and consumerist,(the dominant culture or 'mainstream' culture) and not what we necessarily want for her, (see below for the flip-side of this). Neither can we insulate her.

Perceived advantages:

The Moon is actually a very popular little girl, with some great friendships at school. Her social group is strong and she has healthy social connections at school.

The Moon loves her art class, music, library and quiet reading and writing time.

The Moon is a participant in the wider social culture of the school, that also reflects diversity, and which can offer opportunities and possibilities for enrichment.

The Moon gets to have someone other than her mum there with her the whole day, which can be liberating as she gets to discover who she is in her own right without me hanging over her shoulder all the time. Space.

On Homeschooling...(I haven't done this before, although the last two years of my own schooling were distance ed and I thrived and was happy. In fact in my final year of school I ended up getting among the top marks in the country for History and Art History).

perceived disadvantages: (and yes, some of these are about me too)

possibility of 'hothouse' mothering and education. Possibly inhibiting for the free-spirited Moon to have her mum there the whole time. She's very outwardly focused and highly social, (although lack of socialisation I don't consider to be an issue with homeschooling, I'm getting at something else here).

Seeing her school friends less - the possibility that they may drift apart, however much we try to catch up after school and at the weekends.

Doubting whether I'd be any good at it (even though I have loads of ideas about what we could do). Would The Moon be learning enough, and could we ensure that we were able to do all the hoop-jumping the education dept required of us? The education dept. can be a pack of hard arses.

In Australia, and in Victoria, (and certainly Melbourne) homeschooling is considered lunatic fringe. There's a wider culture here (and hey, most of the time I don't care what the wider culture thinks. I reject the wider culture for the most part - along with Starbucks and MacDonalds and plasma tvs), that finds it insupportable. Even my 'counter-culture' (heh - pretentious term for ya) friends, pretty enlightened and aware people find homeschooling quite nuttso. Ok, so that's their problem, but do I want to have the freaky kid who is an 'outsider' getting all the sideways looks? However based on ignorance this is, it's bound to affect her.

Could The Moon adjust back to being in a school if we homeschooled for a year or two, or three? I can't imagine doing it for the entirety of her schooling.

As much as I love the idea of homeschooling on so many levels, this would preclude me from entering into paid work for goodness knows how long, and I have a philosophical as well as practical issues with remaining financially dependent on anyone else for any length of time. If I was out of paid work for an extended period of time and something happened to The Bloke or to our income, it may leave me in a very vulnerable position as my skills are such that I can't be 'out of the loop' for extended periods.

And selfishly perhaps, (and go on, make me feel bad), although compromise and sacrifice is a part of parenthood, (why shouldn't it be? we chose to have our children), I have a HUGE problem with the idea of giving up my life - creative life especially - my work, my goals and even dreams in order to invest virtually every waking hour in my child's life. To be wholly a literal Mother and not a mother of Other Things. Creativity requires a certain amount of selfishness. Although I think that's the wrong word, (interestingly, it's hardly ever applied to men. They're just doing 'their work', their thing). One day my child will leave me. She's a gift on loan after all. I can envision a life beyond the one I have now. My boundaries and my life go well beyond my child, even with her being everything to me. If that makes sense.*

Perceived advantages:

The Moon would be able to follow her own interests more and have possibly better opportunity to develop skills and abilities she doesn't get time to at school.

Greater flexibility and a 'curriculum' that was tailored to The Moon - her level and needs would be addressed with loads of one on one time and never being overlooked.

A quiet, peaceful environment that The Moon is happy and relaxed in and able to concentrate and let things unfold without strict time limits on anything. If she wants to take time to finish a painting she can. If she's hungry she can eat. When she's restless she can go outside for a break. Et al.

With a number of schools closing in our very area due to incidences of Swine Flu, homeschooling is looking mighty attractive right now...heheh.

Both of us can enjoy one another's company and be absorbed in natural rhythms, and in seasonal rhythms more easily too, (this is still the case now, but not as much as it would be with homeschooling). We can visit the museum and art gallery (major national institutions just minutes from our home), and do all sorts of things that can relate back to her learning.

My girl can receive the kind of education that is reflective of our values and who we are, (erm, that could be listed in the 'perceived disadvantages' section also), rather than those of the education dept. and a group of education academics, (quel horreur - I have to say I have yet to meet a more wanky group of people. Oh yeah, Arts academics), who are largely insulated from much of what they are banging on about.

I'm sure there are loads more things. But it's way too long a post already. Believe me when I say your thoughts are always appreciated, and any personal experiences/ideas are most welcome here. And I can handle a difference of opinion and won't take it personally : )

*Also, this resistance of mine has an added element, beyond 'selfishness', because ultimately, I think it can be hard on a child. So many (women especially) I've encountered or know whose mothers' only role in life was their children feel enormously burdened by that. Resentful even. They wanted their mothers to have something else going on other than them. It's a pressure. Interestingly, a fair few of them are pretty self-involved creatures. Because it was all about them growing up, the universe revolved around them. They kind of expect life to be like this now and are quite disappointed and quite unhappy. Even if this is not the case for many, it's a possibility. Every scenario has a range of potentials. Ok, so this is my fear, and fears can be irrational, but sometimes not entirely baseless.

Of Detoxification: Part I.

2009-05-24T16:01:00.018+10:00

In my last post I mentioned that I had embarked upon a detox. It's something I wouldn't normally do at this time of the year, (a southern Autumn/Winter), detoxing being more suited to Spring-type energies and general shenanigans.

But, hit by a rogue wave of enthusiasm, and since I am basically a mad witch, I decided to do it anyway. And although I'm including warm and well-cooked foods in my menu, generally speaking, a detox is far more suited to Spring when there are lots of fresh greens about, and it's warmer and therefore easier to eat fresh raw foods. This plan, (not wildly different to how I eat normally, erm, except for red wine, and brie...and dark choc...), is an all-seasons one, and can be adjusted according to the climate, season, and what foods are available and/or local.

I have been um-ing and ah-ing about posting about it here, and wondering if it may be too much of a watching-paint-dry factor. Although that hasn't stopped me in the past has it? However, much to my surprise, I've discovered a few emails in my inbox today, asking me what I do-ith on a detox. And the lovely Ladbug Zen asked me in the comments box too. So, even though I'm no expert - not a naturopath, nor any other kind of health practitioner - I'll share my detox plan wiv youse.* Do with it what you will, (that may also include tossing your head back and laughing scornfully and maniacally at the thought of foregoing such things as coffee, sweeties and brie. I do understand. Completely).

Now first, let me preface this plan with the following...

You may well ask, what is the point of a detox? I mean, our bodies are pretty adaptable organisms, and if we eat well an' all, there's not much need perhaps. Well, I s'pose my way of thinking is that we are now exposed to all sorts of environmental (and denatured) Stuff that we simply didn't evolve to deal with - in our food, water and atmosphere. For the most part, methinks it's counterproductive to get too uptight and control freakish over this. But I like to do a minor detox for a week or two once or twice a year to give my bod a wee rest and a bit of a leg-up. It always improves my energy levels no end. It's the nutritional equivalent of a long weekend. Without the booze, and other sundries.

Now. This is not a fast. Non. C'est disagreeable. A detox is not a diet, (pah, diets. Hairball inducing). So it is not something to try and lose weight on. My own constitution is such that I don't fare well on any kind of harsh regime, and can become gaunt and sickly very rapidly on any hardcore detox. Weight loss of more than a couple of kilos or so would not be wise for me. Also, philosophically I don't go in for deprivation. I adore food, and although I don't eat junk food (it makes me quite ill), I'm not into what I would call 'purity trips'. I'm deeply suspicious of the 'good food, bad food' crowd. So although there is a desludging factor involved, this is not about 'purification', so much as pleasure, lushness, and re-energising both the body, mind, and palate. Ooer. I sound like an advert.

On this detox I forego caffeine, alcohol, sugar, eggs, dairy, meat, wheat and glutenous grains, (I don't eat meat or gluten these days anyway), and you may well ask, with a rising hysterical tone, what the blazes is left to eat?? Well, plenty. Truly.

Midnight and Merlot, by Paulina Cassidy. So, no merlot then.

Also, I haven't had to withdraw from coffee as I don't drink it, so it's been a relatively easy road. But if you are caffeinated and feel you want to withdraw, it could be a bit ~~hellish~~ challenging. Most particularly when there are children around to attend to. So if you do choose to have a go, I'd suggest taking it easy on yourself. It doesn't have to be all or nothing, (a tedious and very exhausting way to approach life don't you think?).

Implementing a few healthy changes, or including a couple of detox-style meals in your usual week's menu may be all that's needed to clear out the bats in your belfry; rather than going the whole hog and it just being too bloody hard for where you're at. It shouldn't be a source of stress. The aim is to feel good, and sustainable good health. Although I do subscribe to the 'food as medicine' school of thought, I also subscribe to the school of 'ok lovelies, nosebags on for a bang-up feast' as well.

Importantly, I try to get adequate rest. And I do realise that for many mothers with babies and small children in particular, (and people with insane cats...grr), this is an elusive, quite possibly absurdly laughable concept. Drinking plenty of water, and doing some form of gentle exercise on a daily basis such as walking, yoga, gardening, playing Stalking Ninja Cat, or whatever does it for you, is a good idea.

The Shopping List**

brown rice cakes

nut butter (almond, cashew, hazelnut, but not peanut)

plenty of dried or canned beans such as cannellini, chickpeas, red kidney, mung beans, lentils, aduki...

tahini

rolled oats

LSA (finely ground linseeds, sunflower sees and almonds)

fresh or frozen berries

bananas

passionfruit...yum. If ya want.

Assuming there are no allergies - nuts and seeds (such as almonds, pistachios, sesame, sunflower, pepitas, brazils...just not peanuts because they contain a natural occurring toxin that ain't so good)

lots of fresh parsley and coriander (cilantro)

flaxseed oil

Thai curry paste (it's quite easy to find ones that have natural ingredients and without preservatives)

coconut milk

non-dairy milk such as soy, almond or rice milk

raw honey

herbs and spices, including cinnamon

cold pressed organic olive oil

tofu in all its many splendid forms - silken, firm and smoked

bean noodles (transparent noodles made from mung beans - ubiquitous and readily available in supermarkets and Asian grocers).

avocados. LOTS. Buy a tree, (or not. But that's my preference)

fresh ginger

lemons

brown rice - short to medium grain (handy for sushi if you decide to make it)

nori (pre-toasted seaweed sheets for sushi making)

bamboo rolling mat for sushi

fresh miso

dijon mustard

tamari (a wheat free soy sauce)

dried shitake mushrooms

rice wine vinegar

quinoa

onion, garlic

lots and lots of fresh, seasonal fruit and vegetables, (including apples, carrots, beets to make juice if you are able to make yer own).

various herbal teas of your choice (and for those who would like a little caffeine, green tea and Japanese teas such as Gen Mai sencha are delish and cleansing).

Ok, that's it for now. In part II I'll post a sample menu, recipes, and links to some recipes.

* this is my idea of a 'detox' and it's something that I've devised for myself, according to my own tastes and constitution. It certainly won't be everyone's idea of a detox, and is very tweakable according to taste. If you want to check out someone who does this very well indeed, then take a peek at AOF's Detox Diaries and recipes over at Confessions of a Food Nazi. Also, different bodies respond to foods differently. Meat may be a tonic for you right now.

**it's preferable that the majority of items are organic, but if that's not poss, then don't stress it.

Friday Bits and Bobs.

2009-05-22T18:47:00.007+10:00

Thought I'd do a bit of a round-up of the week, rather in the style of the Good, the Bad and the Ugly. So 'ere goes...the week wot has been:

(The local creek. Very autumnal. This is on the way the local organic vegie market where Sol y luna and I do our weekly shop). Had to give yer a piccie din' I?

*Although it's nigh on Winter in this part of the world, (and therefore somewhat counter-intuitive, perhaps), I've embarked upon a detox with Sol y Luna. Our detox involves no caffeine (easy), no alcohol, (relatively easy), no sugar, (meh), no wheat (what's new?), and no brie or feta (GAH!) However, it does include copious amounts of avocado. Hurrah!

*Sol y and I are eating ridiculously well, (you simply must try AOF's 'parsley pesto' before you slip off this mortal coil), and we've been throwing back some amazing and technicolour vegetable concoctions, (otherwise known as 'Kitchen Sink Juice'). And now...we both have colds.

*As a result, a rather large, grotesque Snot Monster has taken up residence in my head. However, it is the first cold I've had in 9 months, and it also means that I get to be entirely dissipated and recline on the couch, and plug away at the patchwork quilt I'm making The Moon for her birthday (shhhh). Whilst doing so, I've been enjoying a chuckle and a spot of nostalgia as I watch a corker of an old movie - Bell Book and Candle with the lovely Jimmy Stewart (a childhood crush, and I agree - very miscast here), and Kim Novak. Very silly, and completely fun.

*As an aside, I do think that red lippy is one of the best things ever. Yes, yes - how frivolous. Vive la frivolity I say! Beautiful, frivolous things can sometimes be a real tonic, and red lippy is a shot of colour and passion. Moste excellente. And it can make you feel good, (particularly as this one is vegan).

*My GP discovering a very worrying lump in my breast during a routine examination. Her looking all worried with knitted brow and tight lips and sending me off for a mammogram and ultrasound. A tense few days in which docwitch is A Bit Worried. Considers range of possibilities, many of them Not Good.

*Going for said tests in which they find nothing. No. Thing. It appears I had a phantom lump. That I am bumpy not lumpy. I realise that this may well be far too much information. The Bloke and myself are somewhat relieved.

*Pondering the very vexed, (and continuing) question/dilemma of my child's education. Deciding that this needs to be resolved as soon as possible. Only hours later, serendipity herself has me being introduced to someone who literally lives over my back fence, who is very well-informed and experienced with one of the education options we are considering for The Moon. So that is another step towards hopefully resolving the issue. Soon.

*Making a Practical Bag, (Tanya Whelan pattern) using fabrics from Lecien's My Folklore range. Forgot to take a photo, but I'm already very fond of that bag. Uber comfy.

*Listening to: this dark, dark...dark little song by The Decemberists. Love the use of language that includes, "incurring my wrath", "my burdens I began to divest", and "foxglove". This may give you some idea. Also enjoying Sydney outfit Fourplay String Quartet's 'Bollyrock'.

*Cooking up tofu and vegetable Thai Green Curry. Yum. Serve with brown rice and an unseemly amount of fresh coriander (cilantro).

*Determined to get myself up off the couch in order to go and see Persuasion: Fashion in the Age of Jane Austen (an exhibition) this weekend. I shall be a piggy in't mud.

Bestest for the weekend.

Booksies. A Meme.

2009-05-19T21:36:00.004+10:00

Thanks to Mon over at Holistic Mama for this one. I've spotted a few bloggers doing this meme, and how can I resist, talking about the Preciousssses?

What author do you own the most books by?
Well, this possibly reflects my studies as much if not more than personal taste. And as I studied and taught Lit for so many years, it's difficult to separate the work from the interest. So...Christina Stead and Janet Frame (PhD topic), Austen, Shakespeare, the Brontes, Woolf, Julia Kristeva, Marguerite Duras, Angela Carter, and loads by the Gothics, (Euro and Southern).

What book do you own the most copies of?
The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov. As this is one of my fave books of all time, I seem to have been given a number of copies. But then, I loan them to people and they disappear (and I get very grumpy about this, but I can't get too grumpy and possessive if I own multiple copies can I?).

Did it bother you that those questions ended with prepositions?

Well, it would make me a first-class hyprocrite if it did, as you dear reader will surely know if you have read my writing here. The Grammar Fairy did not visit me when I was a babe in the cradle, and as a result I am a grammatical Philistine. Throughout my dubious and patchwork education, grammar was considered far too Old School and fascist to be taught. All my teachers were from the 1970's and it was all about being "free and creative, dude". Yeah. Um, cool. So grammar remains rather a big mystery to me, and yet good grammar can be a powerful tool to have in the ol' kit. So, um...wtf is a preposition? Just kidding, but only kind of.

Which fictional character are you secretly in love with?

Secretly? Shamelessly more like. I have multiple love affairs with characters in books. I am a scarlet woman, a shameless hussy, a Ginger ho. There are too many to name, (and I have forgot many along the way). It's sad but true. I kicked off my literary love life very young indeed with crushes on the likes of Julian in the Famous Five. Very Head Boy. A bit of a Hooray Henry and not my type at all really, but youthful inexperience can be blamed for that one. I remember Dickon from The Secret Garden being another. A gentle, earthy type. Still love 'im. But in a very appropriate way, of course, because he's, like 12.

Then came the wild teenage years and Heathcliff with his dark, brooding sense of danger floated my boat. I was obsessed, and it was a doomed sort of love. Funny that. I still have a soft spot for him, but he was a big mistake. I flirted shamelessly with Lizzie Bennet's main squeeze, old Darcy whatshisface. I still do now and again. It's that great stick he keeps up his whatsit, I am strangely compelled. He is 'diverting', (and easily diverted. I mean, Caroline Bingley? He actually considered her for a minute didn't he?)

But in truth, I have now returned to the gentle/and or earthy types - devoted, reasonable, and who keep me grounded. And men who can build stuff. Like Gabriel Oak in Far From the Madding Crowd. I also rather fancy Brandon in Sense and Sensibility. Solid. And for nuance, the Japanese translator in Bel Canto (which I am currently halfway through and Suse is with me on this one). There is a slight problem I think, in that the majority of my literary paramours are on average, about 200 years old. But that's quite enough gushing about boys.

Which books have you read the most times in your life?
Usually books I am writing on or studying - Wuthering Heights (I wrote a 20,000 word thesis on WH, motherhood, and semiotics for my Honours year), nearly everything by Christina Stead and Janet Frame, Les Miserables, P&P, The Master and Margarita, some short stories by Collette (sensual and melancholy). There are many more. I am an obsessive kind of reader who tends to revist the scene of the crime over and over. Go ahead. Analyse me.

What was your favourite book when you were ten years old?
The Secret Garden, by Frances Hodgson Burnett. Sigh.

What is the worst book you’ve read in the past year?
Possibly Alice Hoffman's The Ice Queen. I didn't bother finishing it. And I have no hesitation in throwing a book across the room in disgust if I don't like it. Life's too short to attempt to struggle on with dross.

What is the best book you’ve read in the past year?
Well, I've been re-reading some wonderful things - Elizabeth Jolley, Wilkie Collins, (Earthenwitch is into him in a big way, and I can understand why), Kate Atkinson's new one is fab. I also think the Christos Tsiolkas book The Slap was excellent, and I'm so glad to hear he's taken out the Commonwealth Book Prize this year for it. I've really enjoyed The Book Thief too. Erm, that's not just one book is it?

What book would you most like to see made into a movie?
Angela Carter's fairytales, Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, The Witch of Cologne, (not a brilliant book, but might work as a film quite well), The Book Thief, A Fine Balance.

Which book would you least like to see made into a movie?
Sorry Mon, but not Wuthering Heights. It's been horribly ruined so many times for me, and I feel stupidly territorial about it. I have despised every single adaptation so far. Although I haven't seen the latest (is it ITV?) one that was done last year sometime. Maybe some day, it will be done well.

What is the most low-brow book you’ve read as an adult?
That's hard to say. Possibly the Twilight novels. Are they low-brow? I have massive criticisms of them, but I don't know if they're low-brow exactly. I don't think I'm a book snob,(am I a book snob...oh god! I am a book snob), but I tend to be drawn to 'heavy' books. I refused to read The Da Vinci Code, (I would consider that pretty low-brow). Light reading is Jane Austen, (the only chick-lit I can abide - I couldn't finish Helen Fielding's Bridget Jones books - found them dull), and I love Philippa Gregory's historical romps, but whilst I think it's pretty light reading, I wouldn't call that 'low-brow'. I dip into the odd fantasy, but I wouldn't call Kate Forsyth 'low-brow' either. I will read just about anything set in the 18th century. I just love that period for some reason (can you tell by my avatar?)

However, I'm pretty low-brow myself, and my sense of humour is very low-brow indeed.

What is the most difficult book you’ve ever read?
Well, I am drawn to heavy books as I've said, and most of my reading would be considered pretty 'difficult', harrowing even. But I just can't do books about children going missing, or being murdered, or abused. Those stories do my head in. My heart pounds and I feel sick and upset and haunted for days. These are usually the territory of Thrillers/Suspense/Murder Mysteries and are possibly my least favourite genre, (besides chick-lit...hehe). Yet I love Gothic Literature - very different territory on the whole.

Intellectually difficult? Writing style difficult?
Well, I've read a load of literary theory in my time, some of it truly awful, and some sublimely beautiful. And I love semiotics and some French feminist theory, (and had lawyers tell me that studying law is so much harder than studying literature. This is where I get tetchy and point them in the direction of some theory that they might like to read on the train instead of their Bryce Courtenay...or whatever. Ooh. Book snob, me).

Anyway, back to the question...um. Some education theory I've had to read has been among the driest, most turgid prose I've been submitted to in a loooong time. Also, any of those books that are adapted from Disney films. Turgid. Prose. And my daughter has a fondness for 'em.

What is the most obscure Shakespeare play you’ve seen?
So many. In NZ as a student I went to see a version of The Tempest that was self-consciously postcolonial (or attempting to be, and far later than loads of other people had thought of it). It was a bit bad.

Do you prefer the French or the Russians?
The French! Bien sur!

Shakespeare, Milton or Chaucer?
Shakespeare

What is the biggest or most embarassing gap in your reading?
Oh, too many to mention. LOADS. And one day my life will run out and there will be so much I haven't read.

What is your favourite novel?
That is a terrible question. What is this? Sophie's Choice?

Poet?
Blake...or Ted Hughes, (I used to prefer Plath to him, but now it's t'other way 'round).

Work of non-fiction?
Well, I tend to devour bios about historical female figures, like Eleanor of Acquitane, Madame Pompadour, Marie Antoinette, (detect a theme here?), Diane de Poitiers, Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, and sundry courtesans. Like Mon, I love Women Who Run With the Wolves, I also love various cookbooks, and my herb books.

What is the most influential novel you've read?
Probably as a child when I read The Mists of Avalon, and somehow recognised so many elements as very familiar.

Who is the most overrated writer alive today?
Stephanie Meyer.

Which less widely read novel would you recommend?
Anything by Rohington Mistry.

What are you reading right now?

Bel Canto by Ann Patchett, People of the Book, by Geraldine Brooks, The Artist's Way.

A Creative Flourish. And Some of My Favourite Things

2009-05-14T17:58:00.007+10:00

A little while ago the lovely LadySilverOak gave me a little award. It's the second time I've been given this one, which is lovely, and I'm generally very remiss about acknowledging them (I don't mean to be rude, or churlish. I tend to be a bit scattered, and I lose track of things).

Anyway, how's about I just be gracious and say thankyou very much LadySilverOak!

And here are 7 of my fave things. Um, other than avocados and fabric.

1. A bonfire on the beach by the light of a summer's full moon, with friends and loved ones, skinny dipping, dancing barefoot with sand in the toes all through the night to music like this, (needs volume and patience - it builds*), and then watching the sunrise whilst cooking up a brekkie of damper bread and some freshly caught fish over the embers of last night's fire. Place fish in chunk o' damper. Scoff.

2. Taking a ferry from Istanbul, Turkey and sailing up the Bosphorus from to the edge of The Black Sea. The indigo beauty of the Bosphorus, the ruined castles along the banks, the palaces and villages. The sheer dynamic, wondrous, seismic beauty of the land and water, and the bloody history of it all. The. Best. Day-trip. For USD$1, (well, it may have been affected by inflation in the last 9 years, but I suspect it's still cheap as chips).

3. Cocktails and crafting with the Cackle Club lovelies, and sitting out under the Awakened Heart's garden canopy of oak trees, drinking in the stillness of the mountain air, listening to a little owl visitor and dreaming caravans of gypsy dreams. Of course, this is now a greatly anticipated pleasure, as this Saturday Sol y Luna and I are pootling off to the mountains for a night of crafty goodness at the AH's gorgeous mountain home. *Cue much cackling*.

4. Even though I am not a summer witchypoo, my fave yoga practice is as follows: anticipating a scorching hot day, and rising with the dawn in order to do naked sun salutations whilst watching the sun in its fierce glory nudging over the eastern horizon. Burning Egyptian kyphi whilst I do my practice, and feeling the primal heat and connection to ancient sun-worshipping cultures.

5. The rare early morning when The Moon, (my 6 year old daughter), climbs into bed with me and The Bloke and we snuggle together in a warm, cosy cocoon. It's delicious and reminds me of that oh-so-brief baby stage when she was co-sleeping in the bed with us on a nightly/daily basis. Well, it's delicious until the fidgeting and chronic wriggling of a small but determined body sets in.

6. Gathering my favourite people around me for an al fresco dinner party: lighting candles and lanterns, laying the table with nurturing home-cooked food, bottles of wine and festoons of flowers and colour; accompanied by music, immersed in inspiring conversation and ideas, as the sounds of nature and the night are all around us.

7. Running as a child like a demented wild creature all day until nightfall - up and down cliffs, along the beach, around the lake, playing hide and seek in a forest graveyard; climbing trees and getting pine sap in my hair until my hair became matted dreadlocks. Getting filthy and smelling like earth and ocean. The hush and whisper of pine trees en masse as I climbed dizzingly high in the trees and looked out over the ocean whilst listening to the call of the tui and the cheeky fantail.

Now, if I may be so bold and suggest that as I know so many creative bloggers and I'm spoiled for choice, that if anyone wants to do this fave things list, then go for it! Vive la creativity!

*And a better recording than I can find on Youtube. If you have ever seen The Dirty Three live, you will know the Dionysian ecstasy of this music.

Mother's Day Morning, (A Scene)

2009-05-11T22:10:00.003+10:00

The Characters

The Moon, (girl child of 6 and 3/4)

The Bloke, (erstwhile father of The Moon, and not a Morning Person)

Docwitch, (Mother of The Moon, is unable to recall her identity or location prior to imbibing first cup of tea of the day)

The Scene

Mother's Day, Sunday morning, May 10th, 6.50am. The Bloke and Docwitch's bedroom, located within idiosyncratic apartment in an inner-city-leftie-smug-bourgeois enclave.

The Moon, in mismatched pyjamas, stumbles over sundry brooms and cauldrons, (and possibly the odd goblin), and barely awake, enters her parents' bedroom. Her anticipation is palpable and her comatosed parents are made immediately aware of it, despite said comatosed-ness. There is a general disturbance on the bed, and under the covers as The Moon, (a heat-seeking missile), wriggles down between the adults, who are determined to remain asleep for as long as possible.

The Moon to The Bloke, (in a stage whisper): "Dada! Dada! Is it time yet? Daddy? Waaaake up!"

The Bloke, (groggily): "Hurrsasumple".

The Moon: "Tsk...Daaaaddy! Is it time to get up and do it yet?"

The Bloke: "Errrh? No Moon. Soon."

The Moon: "orrright."

10 seconds passes in which adults attempt to pass once more into sweet slumbering oblivion.

The Moon, (still adopting stage whisper): "Right, Dada, it's time to get up now...come oooon!"

The Bloke, (resigned to his fate): "Yes, yes Moon. Alright".

Docwitch rolls over in bed, and pretends not to hear what follows: The Bloke lurching out of bed, The Moon running up the hallway hyperventilating with barely suppressed excitement, and the cat vomiting enthusiastically at the foot of the bed. Sundry kitchen noises also follow, including the slightly ominous sound of things being cut up.

10-15 minutes passes this way. Docwitch meanwhile is having a very pleasant dream involving mangoes, a motorcycle, and Javier Bardem. This is shattered by the abrupt entry of The Moon and The Bloke bearing a tray of toast slathered with avocado, and large chunks of tomato, and a cup of green tea. The tray is also piled high with presents wrapped carefully in butcher's paper, (and with an impressive amount of sticky-tape).

The Moon: "Happy Muvver's Day Mama!". (Plonks tray down next to Docwitch's cheek on pillow that Docwitch has liberally been drooling on).

Docwitch: "ummnerrs. Ta Moon". (Manages to sit up. Has dishevelled appearance and hair is unbrushed. Cat yowls in fright and runs outside).

The Moon: "Here is a Mother's Day breakfast for you mama, and...some pressssentsss!".

Docwitch: (groggily but with as much enthusiasm as she can muster), "Oh! What a lovely, lovely surprise sweetheart. This looks brilliant!"

Docwitch proceeds to tuck into toast enthusiastically, whilst having various presents pushed into her hands. The Bloke collapses momentarily on the bed.

The Moon: "Open this one Mama...no, this one first. No, this, then this, then this...".

Docwitch following concise instructions opens presents containing all manner of wonders that are sources of delight to a 6 year old shopper, and which warm the cockles of a mother's heart.

The Moon: "Do you like them Mummy?"

Docwitch: "I love them all sweetheart, they're lovely, thoughtful presents, and very special because you gave them to me. Like me' toast too!".

The Moon: "I love you so much Mama. Happy Mother's Day"

Docwitch: "I love you too Moon"

The Moon: "Can we talk about my birthday now? It's only 26 days away..."