Indian Summer over...Last Blog for a while.

 Such a hyacinth  blue sky

and brightness 

and shining warmth

on Wednesday.

The Indian summer continues

roses still blooming 

and the silver birch trees glowing gold.

My view from the bedroom window this morning. A white out sky,

the European ash nearly naked now...

and  sheep graze in the confetti whisked down from the plane tree by a strong wind.

By this evening the wind is gusting gale force with stinging rain in your face. My neighbour's umbrella blows inside out in the short walk from her house to mine. She comes for tea and chocolate biscuits and we share widow talk.

 Later I walk her to the front gate by torchlight and watch her being swallowed up into the darkness. I'm worried she'll get blown over in the wind and wait till I can see the pale smudge of her puffa jacket in her own driveway.

Indian summer over.

And now I have laid out T-shirts and books and a sarong and plug adaptors on the spare bed next to my open suitcase. It's hard to imagine sun on my back and sea spray in my face with the sound of the wild wet night outside swishing round the house. I feel so lucky to have this option ....to swop the darkness of an English winter for the light and warmth of a Portuguese coastline.

Last blog for a while. Back in December. 

 And I leave you with this quote from Rabrindranath Tagore which I love and gives me great comfort whenever I read it.

Faith is the bird that sings when the dawn is still dark.

The Clot Lodged and Time on my Side.

I'm washing my hair this morning

when it enters me

that memory that I've been avoiding for weeks.

On this day

two years ago

teetering on the edge of his grave

after those six good men and true

have laid him

tenderly 

in the slashed

 red earth.

So how can I still be here

crouched

dripping

on a horrid bedroom carpet,

with a clot

lodged in my 

chest,

so hard

so hollow

so razor sharp

I want to 

vomit?

In the end 

I howl my way out of it

till I can breathe

without 

hiccupping,

softening the edges of 

the clot 

so it can accompany me,

tenderly,

as I enter the cavern of my day

with dry hair

dry eyes,

and

time 

 on my side.

I found these photos still on his camera.

August 2007

A nest for one.

Walking this evening ...the whole glorious territory of the sky to myself.

This morning we sit at the round plastic garden table

 in the middle of the kitchen,

the young architect and I,

pouring over the fine detail 

of finely drawn

diagrams of my house.

We talk of 

 glass extensions

and knocking down walls

moving doors

and the boiler,

adding radiators

and a shower room.

We walk outside 

into soft sunshine

and falling oak leaves

and imagine if the 

garage wasn't there,

(where would I store Robin's ceramics?)

or 

the swimming pool.

And I paint pictures in my head

which slide around, 

a kaliedescope of dreams

not yet  fixed 

in concrete

in brick and glass.

Not able to nail down

the idea of building 

 a nest 

for one.

Blog frustration and the wild wind

A few random photos of Portugal...this time last year with my dear sisters.

I'm posting them because I'm getting ready to go there at the end of the week for our annual sisters' retreat.

It's also because I'm having a terrible time with this blog...the photos won't upload unless I fiddle about with them and edit them and even then some appear quite randomly and others won't. It's taking frustratingly long.

And now I can't reply to any comments. Thank you dear B for your last 3 which I have been trying to respond to and instead I get a message saying 'oops an error' but when I try and follow their instructions nothing happens.

I feel like giving up .....maybe it's a message that I should.

The wind is howling and prowling outside like a wild creature. I'm learning the new sounds of it round the house. A whistling and a roaring down the chimney( no fire lit on this unseasonably warm November night).....a rattling and a flapping of the cover of wall air vent in the sitting room.....a tugging and a scraping of the recycling bins outside the kitchen door. I suddenly feel homesick for the sounds of our old house...for my old life in Exeter.

And even so I've had a lovely day ....mint tea and catch up with my sister....scrambled egg, mushrooms and avocado birthday lunch with three dear friends....cooking up a big pot of lentil and spinach dhal ....dreaming up ideas for the house  - the architect comes with the drawings from the  measured survey tomorrow. 

And  now letting myself feel the tiredness, the weariness, the overwhelm, seep into every pore...taking the call of the wild wind to bed with me.

Personal Needs

It's cold, misty, drizzly and miserable walking in the gardens at the NT's  Knightshayes Court near Tiverton on Saturday. 

But the trees, especially the maples, are so full of flame and fire I can't help but be cheered up by their   stunning autumn display.

This morning ......a  little robin flew in for a second while I was taking photos of the blue tits...through the reflection of the window ....so he's a bit blurry...but I was so happy to see him.

In his UTube talk about 'Healing Core Wounds', Matt Khan says that being on a spiritual path starts with taking care of your personal needs first and foremost...and then you can meditate. He asks, are you hydrated, eating proper nutritious food, getting enough exercise, enough rest....?

Today I'm finding out that really taking care of myself, ticking off the things on the above list, is a full time occupation. And I don't seem to have time for anything else.  I'm realising that I have really only been playing lip-service to being good to myself. 

One thing is that I used to go long periods of time without eating...made myself used to being hungry...even liked it...liked looking forward to a meal....didn't realise how much my body didn't like it....the remnants of old patterns lurking in the shadows..'.eating makes you fat'....

So now I'm challenging all that. If I know I'm going to be out for a long time before I can make a meal I take a snack with me ...an apple, a banana muffin, some nuts...a hard boiled egg. So I'm not starving by the time I finally can get into the kitchen.

And I'm cooking three proper meals every day with a huge variety of veggies and protein and fewer carbs....and not relying on crisps and wine and chocolate to get me through the nights....not even missing them. Well, a bit.

  It's very time consuming ...I haven't got round to the more exercise and more rest challenge yet ...but I will do. And may even get to do some mediation.... 

Active Sports Setting

A beautiful blue sky day - sun hot on  my back while I'm weeding.

 A late wasp caught on the inside of the window. I eventually helped him out through the open door.

More practising with new camera...

I may have found the best setting to capture the blue tits feeding on the bird table...

it's the Active Sports setting.... bird hopping equivalent of kicking a ball.

I can't choose a best one though...so these are what's left after deleting a serious number of duff ones....

I didn't realise how long and sharp is the beak of a blue tit.

This afternoon I have a follow up session with the nutritionist I have been consulting.It appears that the stresses of the last few years and getting older have taken their toll on my insides.

She prescribes a gut healing protocol and uses soothing words like...reduce inflammation ...support digestion and  absorption of nutrients..... calm the gut.... and balance the gut flora.

All with healing herbs and a version of the stone age diet.  And it will take time.

It feels very manageable. It means making changes but that seems to be to the order of the day now.

And at least it feels there is something I can do....instead of being at a loss all the time...flailing about trying to guess what's best and being at the effect of my poor sensitive gut I can help and support myself.

Like being on the Active Sports setting....