Friday, July 31

the month in review

Your reader's may have missed out on some content this month, or you have new or occassional readers. Consider a Month in Review post. I know I can't keep up with all the wonderful blogs out there. Just copy & paste the headings below and add your responses.
Here's a tip, set a post up in draft form and add to it throughout the month before you forget by the end of the month!

As you can see, I've changed the format dramatically. I wanted to look back more creatively, more holistically. If you've done the original format, still share!

A thought...
I refuse to pass on Self-neglect in any size, shape, or form.

A sound...
The sound of silence. Specifically, the moments I had the place to myself with the babe. I cherished it.

A taste...
Fresh Italian parsley with... anything I can think of!


An image...
A box of one's own.


A scent...
The smell of warm cinnamon sneaking it's spiciness into the corners of the home.

A word...
“We must view young people not as empty bottles to be filled but as candles to be lit.”
Robert Shaffer

A touch...
Reaching out to the Wildflower in the middle of the night, touching her back, and feeling it's cool. I return to rest satisfied.

A gift for me...
I didn't bother mopping the floors, and gained some crafting time.

A post you may have missed...
Living with not happiness.


Let me know if you've done one and I'll add your link to this post.

Mommy Mystic


Wednesday, July 29

the sorrows of the mothers

"The truth is that it is not the sins of the fathers that descend unto the third generation, but the sorrows of the mothers."
Marilyn French

Why do women accept sorrow? No... really. Not every woman, of course, but in general, women accept it in a way that men do not.

Is it part of our essence? That along with the depths of compassion, intuition, and nurturing, we share that space with great pain, sorrow, and sacrifice?

Or is it social conditioning? Is it all part of the big patriarchal inheritance of oppression and repression?

Is it a combination?

Whatever.

What I do know is that many women accept it. I have spoken to several women recently. I have listened to their story and to their recounting the stories of their mothers, sisters, their women friends.

"She was the strongest woman I know, and yet she puts up with it."
"I remember she used to shine with her passion for X, and she gave up on the dream."
"She just figured it was better for the family."
"I'm not happy, but what can you do?"
"I've thought about making a change but that first step just seems impossible."
"Ah well, that's life, it doesn't work out as we hoped."
"Nothing's perfect, you just have to get on with it."


These are actual statements made to me. Besides my own storm, I am also feeling dismayed and angry for other women.

What book did we read, what models did we have, what lies did we believe?
Who convinced us that accepting crumbs when we hungered for the whole loaf was okay? That wanting more was indecent, unladylike, selfish, ungrateful?

Because I'm angry at the fact that it's not weak, timid, docile, or spineless women that I'm speaking to. It's strong women. Opinionated, vocal, confident. With dreams, goals, intentions. Spiritual women, educated women. Readers of Germaine Greer, owners of businesses, creatives.

painting: Debra Wolfe

But wait. What's actually at the root of my dismay is that they are also all mothers. They are the models for the men and women of the next generation.

They are providing the relationships, the lifestyles, and the personal journeys, that will be the first point of truth for each child.

I cannot stand the phrase a mother's sacrifice. I do not believe that what I do for my child is sacrificial. It stems from Love not from martyrdom!

We focus on teaching our daughters how to give, how to nurture. How to.... towards others.

And I keep saying they. But I am one of these women. I have fought and fought to not be one of these women. Yet all it takes is one weakness exposed. We become ill with the sickness of feminine acceptance. And we are sorrowful, or apathetic, but always we are less.

And the excuses we make to ourselves? Oh, there are so many, as many as there are women.

Even in the violence of my storm, I'm still allowing some exposure. I still think about compassion towards others. Compassion towards myself, to choose what is right for me, despite it causing pain to others, is not supported by our societies.

Where do we find that support within ourselves? Oh heck, it's there in plain sight.

The question is, what does it take to allow ourselves to use it?

For me, it has taken becoming a mother. I refuse to pass on Self-neglect in any size, shape, or form.

Monday, July 27

taken away by dance

I've had (and am still in the throes of) such a turbulent month/week, both emotionally and recently physically due to the baby's prickly heat (add a mild cold to that) which has included 3am oatmeal baths..... that I have been incapable of blogging. I have so many good things to chat about, so many posts in draft and nothing will work its way from my head to my finger tips. I'm missing your posts too :(

And then came dance....

I've mentioned before how I love dancing - both doing it and watching it (countless cheesy films watched because of the dance focus), and last week an incidental mention by septembermom changed my week. Well, it added some joy to it anyway.

Unable to blog, craft, or read (!!!), I turned to watching youtube clips of So You Think You Can Dance. I hadn't even heard of this show! I've come dangerously close to using up all my bandwidth (if this post comes to you in August, that's why).

For a moment, I am taken away. And when you find yourself in a state you cannot yet change, it's just what you need.

My picks:

Janette Manrara is an unbelievable dancer. She's been flawless throughout. She was voted out last episode and I think the American public needs to get its head examined. This is her brilliant audition for the show.

link here

Breast Cancer awareness piece - touching and important.

link here

Cool and strong.

link

edit: what takes you away, when you can't focus?

Our nieces arrive on Wednesday for a couple of weeks. So it will be busy. And now, back to youtube searches......

Thursday, July 23

Thankful Anyway Thursday

It's easy to be thankful for the good stuff, can you be thankful for the not so good?
(as serious or light-hearted as you like)
read more here



Wildflower is tortured by prickly heat. I am using natural remedies to ease the itching and keeping her as cool as possible - it's all one can do.

Prickly heat builds up in the system and can 'come out' days and even weeks later. At night, the body's defences are lowered so I'm assuming that's why our nights are so bad.

She wakes any time between 1am and 5am and is for 1hr or as long as 3hrs. I sooth and sooth as best I can. I have a baby who is a terrible sleeper, and now we have this.
eech mami eech
I know baby I know


On top of that she scratches so much that she has cut herself with her nails. I keep them as short as possible but it just takes the tiniest corner..... The back of her neck which was impossible to photograph is many times worse.



Ok, I'm thankful anyway for this because.... hmmm...

because instead of prickly heat it could be something much much worse.
because I'm discovering further reserves of patience than I thought I had.
Because I've tested out soothing remedies and will be prepared for pox and such.
I'm thankful anyway because a child's illness is an opportunity for even deeper bonding.

Let me know (comment) if you've done your own Thankful Anyway and I'll add your link to this post. Grab the button up the top (right click & Save As) and a link back is always nice.

The Tired Mommy Blog
My World Edenwild
My Voice, My View
Jumbleberry Jam
Mamacrow's Musings

Wednesday, July 22

Mama's Peach Cobbler

As a Spanish-Italian, South American born, Australian bred, UK citizen, Montenegro living gal, there are certain food words that are part of my memory for no other reason than films and books.

Grits until an American penpal sent me a packet, pecan pie for a long time and then I found it in England, spam thankyou Monty Python, Oreos, corn bread until I gave it a whirl, pastrami on rye, well, the list is lengthy.

So peach cobbler is one of those. I hadn't the foggiest what it looked like, what it was supposed to taste like (except perhaps peachy?). I had never heard of anyone making it or even whether it was a dessert as I presumed.

But when the in-laws brought home a large bag of freshly harvested peaches, the first thought that entered my head was... peach cobbler. Isn't it funny what effect films and books have on us?

I searched high and low and wide for recipes. And in my usual do-it-my-own-way style, I put together one from online sources and my own cake baking experiences that sounded the most appealing to me. Here it is.

8-10 fresh peaches - peeled, pitted and sliced into thick wedges
1/4 cup (50g) white sugar
1/4 cup (50g) brown sugar
1/4 tsp ground cinnamon
2-3 tsps cornstarch

Mix it all up in a bowl and stick it in a hot oven (220C, 425F) for 20 mins.

2 cups (250g) flour (plain, all-purpose)
1/2 cup (50g)white sugar
1/2 cup (50g) brown sugar
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
8 tbsp (100g) unsalted butter, cold, cut into small pieces
1/2-2/3 cup (120-180ml) boiling water & 1-2 tsps vanilla extract

Mix all dry ingredients. Add butter and rub in until mix resembles breadcrumbs. Add water and blend until just mixed.
Add dollops of this to peaches.

Then sprinkle about 1 tbsp white sugar & 1/4 tsp cinnamon over the top.

Bake for about 30-40mins.



Is this what it looks like? I don't care! It's gorgeous. Very sweet so you could certainly alter the sugar amounts, especially in the fruit mix. And you could lower the butter content for something less rich. We have had it with vanilla ice-cream or fresh cream. It was a hit over here.

I'm going to try blueberry and cherry variations.

Monday, July 20

the noise of stuff.... and emptiness

I'm big on de-cluttering. I find it so freeing. I've never been a materialistic person. I was very happy when I travelled around Oz with all my worldly belongings squashed into a car and trailer, then just the car, and eventually just a suitcase and bag.

I didn't give it much thought at the time. it just felt like the most natural thing in the world. I sought experiences and connections. A change of clothes and my journal where all I really wanted.

Then you Grow Up. You accumulate a house, a car, a Serious Relationship, obligations.... and it's rather too weird, even for me, to live in a house with just a change of clothes and a journal. That's not simple, care-free, or hippie even. It's just erm, spartan. So of course, you accumulate stuff. Necessary stuff, then pretty stuff, then just because-I-walked-past-the-home-decor-store stuff.

When we left England to come to Montenegro, it was a wonderful opportunity to do a major de-clutter. I admit, I'm not a knick-knack sort of person and because I was always somewhat frugal and not overly materialistic, we never had a house full of crap anyway. But there was still stuff, stuff we didn't need. Taking more than we needed or at least really wanted would have been indulgently costly, so that major de-clutter was an essential task.

And then events happen in our lives that render stuff meaningless, or devoid of any serious meaning. At the very least, it just all seems too much. I looked around me one day last week and I felt burdened with everything I owned. And it's not tons and tons by a long shot.

photo: davespertine at devianart

My mind was needing peace, silence, space. All this stuff was noise. My soul is requesting movement forward. All this stuff was weight.

What I have the most of is books. We have a spare room in this apartment that holds all our boxes of stuff ready for that day we were to move to a new house. But most of those boxes are my books.

I am a keeper of books. I don't just enjoy stories and information, I enjoy the aesthetic of shelf upon shelf lined with books. I adore old and new libraries. Old cracked leather-bound tomes and crisp clean new novels. A mini fantasy (though not important) was to have my own room that was mostly library. Floor to ceiling, corner to corner, books, books, books.

The majority of my books are non-fiction, so before you think me too indulgent, I do refer to a lot of them over and over.

I don't collect, purchase much of or even any at all, in the way of shoes, outfits, jewelry, accessories, make-up, hair products, hobby materials, music, or film.
I don't go out with friends. I don't get manicures. I cut my own hair. I have no subscriptions to magazines. I don't smoke.

My books are my passion and vice perhaps.

And even these objects of adoration, have become noise. I'm as shocked as anyone.

I gave away or sold over 500 books before leaving England. I still have 700+ books.
So I'm giving them away. If I were in England I'll be selling some for the much needed cash, but ah well. It feels good to give. I just wish there were more expats here wanting books. The few that love them as much as me have small apartments and husbands on watch.
My eclectic collection seeks admirers. Cooking, health, and novels, find ready homes. Occult, spiritual, and plain weird-ass items are in want of suitors.
I wish you guys were closer so that I could pass them on to you.

I went through my database (yes, I admit nerdiness) and created a new tab: keep, go, ?. I have 500 classed as Keep so that's a great start.

I just don't need them.

That's a mighty big statement for me to make. It was never an issue about needing them. I do enjoy owning them, but it has made me wonder...

How much of what we own is there to fill space? A space that we have been lost to know how to fill. A space within ourselves.

We fill it with stuff, food, sex, achievements, study, work, drugs, chores even. If we are unable or incapable of finding the true need.
Because our souls know one thing above all else it seems to me

it cannot be empty.


photo: canislupusmoon at devianart

Saturday, July 18

the week that was

Less than 20 hours sleep in an entire week. siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh

But seeing the wee one so uncomfortable with the prickly heat is the most distressing. I use various natural remedies (her skin loves aloe vera), but it's all temporary. Keeping her cool is the best - prevention and all that. It's just that it builds in her system and in the middle of the night she starts scratching her head like a person in the throes of a hysterical madness. And there's nothing on her skin as such.

Temps have hit 36C and it's too much for us. For me, an Autumn girl, I just wither and wilt. For the Wildflower, well, see above. We have air-conitioning, but I dislike it's unnaturalness, making me feel disconnected from air.

My green-thumbed neighbour has gifted me with a few basil plants. Love this guy with organic tomatoes and feta cheese.


My toms are looking juicy too. Gifted by Den.


I made peach cobbler for the first time. Seemed like the thing to do with a bag of free peaches. Will share my next experiment shortly. After a taste, I gave the rest away to the neighbour.

The Wildflower has found her girlyness via shoos. Much encouraged by baba (grandma). She's already worn my heeled shoes in a week more than I have in 5 years.


An emotionally turbulent week. I'm not letting go of my strength.

I'm giving away books. LOTS of books. Breeeeathe with me, it'll be ok....... Seems the universe is throwing gifts at me, thought I'd throw back. More on that soon.

Friday, July 17

the little crab

Part of my child astrology series.

Infant

I feel it my responsibility to clarify the misleading characteristic imposed on Cancerians - they are not moody. Little crabs are inherently very stable. The idea that they're moody comes from their sensitivity to their environment and the people around them. A stable environment will support an emotionally stable crab. If the carers are irritable, unhappy, or stressed, this moon-ruled baby will feel it all. It's their sensitivity that has them easily cry, laugh, scream in anger, or frighten.

The other misconception is that the crab is, well... crabby. The thing about this sign is that they don't bottle up their feelings. So if you irritate them, they'll wear that irritability openly.

Unlike their animal symbol, these little crabs are so, so cuddly. They love to be cuddled and to cuddle others. They are the most natural nurterers and it usually shows from the earliest months.

Cancer babies do best with feeding on demand. If forced to fit into a schedule, they can become overeaters.

Sing them gentle lullabies and find their favourite. They will remember it forever after and will be soothed by it. I've yet to meet a crab baby that disliked bath time. If she needs soothing and all else fails, water should do the trick.

They are very placid and loving little beings. In fact, they can be so docile, that the danger is that their parents will not provide enough attention, believing them to be 'just fine'. This is a risk especially if there are other more demanding siblings. While they might adapt to, or accept, whatever you choose for their entertainment or sleeping arrangements, their emotional and psychological potential is reached by providing lots of stability, 1-on-1 stimulation, encouragement, and plenty of affection.

Thursday, July 16

Thursdays

As I don't do one of these every single week, I thought that a permanent spot would be most beneficial to others. You can locate this post from my top menu.

Thankful Anyway Thursday is my response to all the thankfulness I read in Blogland.
Bloggers are thankful for their family, the roof over their head, food on the table, and so on.

Now don't get me wrong, we ought to be thankful for these things when so many do without. But it's easy to be thankful for these things. Too easy. How am I pushed spiritually and psychologically? I think I can push myself a little further.

I want to challenge myself to find the thankfulness in the, well..... the crap. The stuff that initially angers me, annoys me, depresses me, or generally makes me go, ARGH!
I want to find thankfulness in confusion, stress, anxiety, and ruts.
I believe strongly in the benefits of screaming, crying, or punching a pillow if that works for you. And then I believe in moving forward.

The idea is to be thankful for the ACTUAL CRAP, to turn it around.
So if your boss has been mean and unreasonable, being thankful for your loving husband is NOT the idea. Be thankful for the mean boss because he forces you to learn to stand up for yourself for example. If you have the flu, be thankful how it's forcing you to slow down and take time to nurture yourself.
C'mon, if I can do it, so can you.

Sometimes it's a small thing, and sometimes life is really tough. Important, frivolous, serious or humourous - it's all good.
I've come to not only enjoy these Thursday posts, but to find growth through them. Even if I don't find the time or inclination to post, I often compose something in my head from the week that has passed. And reading other bloggers' Thankful Anyways often inspires me.

So, wanna join me?

You can add this button to your side bar (if you do so I'll add your link in this post) or to your own individual Thankful Anyway Thursday post (if you spot mine, comment on it and I'll add your post link to my own).





Just Copy and Paste what's in the box, into a html widget or html part of your post.




Thankful Anywayers

The Organic Sister
My World Edenwild
Mama-Om
The Tired Mommy Blog
Germinando
From the Capricorn's Garden

Sunday, July 12

negative schooling preparing for the negative future

When you have it spelt out like this, it's difficult not to see the ridiculousness of it all.
Thanks to Debs for sharing the article.



The BGUTI principle -- “Better Get Used To It”.

* Traditional grading has been shown to reduce quality of learning, interest in learning, and preference for challenging tasks. But the fact that students’ efforts will be reduced to a letter or number in the future is seen as sufficient justification for giving them grades in the present.

* The available research fails to find any benefit, either academic or attitudinal, to the practice of assigning homework to elementary school students. Yet even educators who know this is true often fall back on the justification that homework – time-consuming, anxiety-provoking, and pointless though it may be -- will help kids get used to doing homework when they’re older. One researcher comes close to saying that the more unpleasant (and even unnecessary) the assignment, the more valuable it is by virtue of teaching children to cope with things they don’t like.

* Setting children against one another in contests, so that one can’t succeed unless others fail, has demonstrably negative effects -- on psychological health, relationships, intrinsic motivation, and achievement – for winners and losers alike. No matter: Young children must be made to compete because – well, you get the idea.

I realize, of course, that many readers regard these practices as desirable in their own right. They may believe that competitive struggle brings out the best in children, that grading students is a constructive form of evaluation, that standardized tests accurately assess the most important aspects of learning, or that, after a full day in school, kids ought to take home more assignments regardless of whether the data show any advantage to doing so. My beef here isn’t with people who hold such beliefs. It’s with those who admit these practices may be damaging (my emphasis) but defend them on BGUTI grounds.

...the most important, though rarely articulated, assumption on which BGUTI rests – that, psychologically speaking, the best way to prepare kids for the bad things they’re going to encounter later is to do bad things to them now.

© Alfie Kohn
Full article here.

Saturday, July 11

the week that was

Scorching sunny days and fierce thunderstorms. The weather is unstable but determined. Too heavy-handed symbolism for my current state?

A pic of the crocheted sandals I completed (details at my Crooked Hooks blog).


The Wildflower is suffering from prickly heat. Poor thing. Her torso is covered and once it gets that bad it returns too easily. Like when someone holds her for a few minutes. She begins to become irritable and uncomfortable. She somehow learnt the word itch and applied it correctly to her scratching herself. Her verbal skills amaze us constantly.

It has meant a few nights of further disturbed sleep (will somebody just stab me through the eye and get the torture over with quickly?). One night she was up at 5am (after waking me 4 times since 11:30pm) and was scratching her head and I had to get up and walk her outside to cool down. The next night I spent on the back-stiffening sofabed where the air-con is situated. Last night I improved conditions in our room and fanned her if she stirred..... She fell into deep sleep, only to have a roaring thunderstorm keep me up for the rest of the morning.

One night after 1.5 hrs of sleep, we made a day trip to Bosnia (as you do) with the in-laws. a small market town near the border. I managed to not pull my hair out or commit any acts of violence. Actually, it turned out a nice day out. It was a pleasant town, surprisingly well-kept.











The verdict on the lemon balm? It's a gonner. Dead, kaput, no more, has ceased to be.
I think two little catnep seedlings have survived. And I'm going to cntinue to care for the legume visitor (thanks Maria) as it came for a reason.

And a sneak look at the new crafty skill I'm attempting. Any guesses?



Off to a kiddie birthday party this evening. Hopefully the rain holds off.

Thursday, July 9

Crocheted toddler sandals

I so enjoyed making these. I found them quite easy. I mean, they're not perfect, but they look just fine for shoes. Unfortunately they turned out a little too small for the girl child, but have served as part of a birthday gift for a friend's 1 year-old girl. I'll make another pair.

I found the pattern on Ravelry - downloaded as a pdf from the etsy seller - and it's the first one I have ever bought. I figured it was well below any retail shoes I would have to purchase.

I used cotton thread for the soles (brown) and then baby soft yarn (lilac) for the main part. The cotton was stash and I took a chance at the two colours working together. I think they look fab.





I could have sworn that I took more photos of the process. Oh well.





Thankful Anyway Thurday

It's easy to be thankful for the good stuff, can you be thankful for the not so good?
(as serious or light-hearted as you like)




I hate to do this to any delicate readers out there but I have a confession.....

erm, you see, well, um, I'm a bad gardener. Aha, yep. I will get into the specifics in another post. But for today, I wanted to share how despite being said crap gardener, I managed to keep a few herbs going.

Only to have visiting dad-in-law over-water them, or change their positions, and kill off my lovely chamomile and cumin plants.

When you're really bad at something, you could do without anyone else's help in being worse, you know?



I am thankful anyway because...

I have one thrivng catnep plant (below), as well as thyme and peppers and marigolds, oh and lavender too. Lemon balm is awaiting examination... or autopsy, we'll see.

And it's good to have the in-laws here, trying to be helpful.



Let me know (comment) if you've done your own Thankful Anyway and I'll add your link to this post. Grab the button up the top (right click & Save As) and a link back is always nice.


Wednesday, July 8

blog, witch job, and other trivials

So watchya think of the new look? I was feeling like a change, something to reflect my creatvity, which I feel is in abundance these days (at least in thought if not production). I'm also hoping this template loads quicker for you. Although it doesn't look as good in IE7.

I'm slowly making my way over to Firefox (and here in Brit English). I see myself there fulltime soon. IE is so annoying with all its little hitches. I think because I wanted to concentarte on blogging and reading that I was putting off getting to know it better. But now that some blogs are exploding into cyberspace whenever I use IE, well, that's just not good enough folks.

Are you an out-of-work witch? Well, if you're in England or happy to commute (depends upon your broom speed I suppose) then there's an opening in Somerset (been there, lovely place). For £50,000, they simply ask that you be your own hag self and live in their cave.

Pride & Prejudice in comic book form? shock, horror. Hey, if it reaches new audiences I'm all for it.



Yesterday I had a day with just the Wildflower. DIY Dad took his parents to Ostrog Monastery. Apparently they were speechless. This is unprecendented.



I've started a new crafty skill with which I'm going to tease you all by not telling you what it is just yet. It involves thread....

Tuesday, July 7

not happiness

I'm a great believer of the silver lining, that all will be well, that we create our lives, acceptance, making lemonade out of lemons, embracing challenges, being grateful, looking at the bright side, laughing at mishaps, going with the flow, appreciating what I have that so many don't have......

Somewhere along the journey, this desire to flow with life and to be grateful became ensnarled with something sinister. Something that twisted its way around my soul.

Accepting what I cannot change, became accepting the status quo. Somehow, in my desire to not be ungrateful for my privildeged Western life, to be thankful I wasn't abused as a child, to appreciate all my opportunities and freedoms, perhaps even with influences from a predominantly Christian culture that tells me I should be Thankful and Grateful.... somehow I accepted less and less and less.

Even me. Yes. Strong me, occassionally formidable me, life-embracing me.

And every time I accepted less for myself, I became less. My soul seemed to shrink. The less I allowed for myself, the less I, subconsciously, valued myself. And it became a viscious circle. Accept less, become less. Become less, accept less.

I allowed myself to become a garden plant. One that required a gardener to water and feed it. I had been a wind walker, a cheeky breeze, a shiver of storm. I soothed brows and stirred up excitement. Now I wilted.

I have strived my entire life for one thing - authenticity. An authentic life, however that was translated. And yet, I have been drowning in inauthenticity, although I have also been clawing my way out. But clawing is not flying.

My current keen thoughtfulness on this has sensed others' stories. I see so many who have settled, in various areas of life, for so much less. For safety, because they don't believe they deserve more, they don't believe there is more, they have forgotten how to give themselves more.....

There is an undercurrent of..... I don't know.... not happiness. Yes, not unhappiness exactly, although there are moments of that, but mostly really just, not happiness.

But there is worse than this. I have seen those who have discarded their own plant pot and reached for the moon be ridiculed.

Who does she think she is?
His expectations are too high!
You just have to settle in this life.
You can't just have everything you want!
But you're wasting your talents!
You have to make the best of things.


This is fear. Fear that we may have to admit that we have settled ourselves. Fear that in doing so we are forced face-to-face with our own Not Happiness.... and may have to do something about it. Or simply, fear that the facade cracks and instead of a numb existence, or stoic denial, we will shed tears, scream, tremble, make waves. Fear of admitting a mistake, fear of change. So many scents of fear.

And although I see it in both men and women, women seem to excel at accepting less. It is a great violence in our societies that even strong, confident, intelligent women fall into this trap.
Jenell mentioned in a recent comment how settling is different to compromise. The former passive, the latter active. Oh yes indeed. One is an embittering resignation, the other is a peaceful acceptance.

We allow others to water us. Our brilliance becomes a reflection of someone else's needs, or wishes for us.

So we bob up and down in the same spot in the middle of the stagnant lake. Because it's safe. Or because we have forgotten that we are strong and natural swimmers, and that we can move elsewhere.


pic: hickerphoto.com

But now...

I swam out from the middle.

I'm about knee-deep in a gushing river, feeling the soil between my toes giving way.
I'm raising my long hair to the winds, like a sail, feeling the force unsteady me, raise me.

It's frightening, it's anything but safe. But I'm feeling my soul re-awaken.

Sunday, July 5

the week that was

The in-laws arrived last Sunday. It has been lovely to see the Wildflower take to them so easily and openly. She's normally more reserved with new people. It's true that children sense love. They in turn are delighting in her every noise and move.

So lots of wonderfulness alongside the average annoying-the-heck-out-of-us in-law nuances.
I for one am also getting less sleep. YES! L E S S. I'm pretty much a train wreck in motion, while still trying to handle the rollercoaster emotions we're going through right now. Oh yeah, didn't I mention? As far as the in-laws are concerned everything is peachy. It's a strange situation for us - sort of putting reality on hold.

The weather in the Adriatic is uncharacteristically wet. Last Summer we experienced 4 months of drought, now it's July and we're still having showers and even a storm or two. Great for the land, not so great for tourism (of which our town depends upon).

I finished The Kite Runner and am reading Daniel Deronda. I'll post reviews at some point.

I completed a pair of crochet sandals - pics to come, as well as a baby blanket for a friend's newborn.

Man, isn't blogland quiet during the Northern Summer?!

Things still aren't groovy here, but I decided to enjoy the small moments during this temporary impasse. I'm embracing those moments, while I'm feeling like a sentence that has come to a comma.

Friday, July 3

June in Review

Your reader's may have missed out on some content this month, or you have new or occassional readers. Consider a Month in Review post. I know I can't keep up with all the wonderful blogs out there. Just copy & paste the headings below and add your responses.
The idea of 1 sentence is so that readers can quickly catch up with you and read other bloggers' reviews.
Feel free to do your own review.

Here's a tip, set a post up in draft form and add to it throughout the month before you forget by the end of the month!

June in Review, in 1 sentence.

Summary (3 sentence max)
This month has centred on huge upheavals, both tangible and emotional. Almost everything else eclipsed. Container gardening got a head start with the lovely Den being seed surrogate, but the wrong soil has been a hindrance.

Fun
Afternoons at a quiet beach, watching the Wildflower wimp out on the cool water.

Challenging
Finances, emotions....As unpleasant as it may be, whining is the least of our troubles.

Thoughtful
Riding the winds.

An insight/thought
Wondering how we people have taught ourselves to settle for less than we deserve.

Website/blog Find/Tip or Idea from web
A game to learn social skills such as sharing.

Words (quote/reading/book recommendation/1 sentence review!/anything word-related)
Loved this phrase for it's own beauty and because it's how I feel too, "Rain is throwing old memories at my roof."

Note to Self
You are even stronger than you thought, don't ever forget it again.

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

Easing the furrowed brow with baking.


Let me know if you've done one and I'll add your link to this post.

Carin at My Sacred Home