Before it was Spring's turn...

Winter had one last dance around the garden!

Zoom in...

When the big picture seems a little daunting and I'm feeling overwhelmed, I find it helps to zoom in and savour the moment, the details, for a while. And it's all the better if they're served with a splash of sunshine.

It might have gone differently...

... I reflected as I travelled home yesterday after a day in London. It might have gone differently. 

On the last day of my leave and at very short notice, Sarah and I made a plan to meet up and spend the afternoon together pottering around a gallery and then "taking it from there"... For me, Sarah is the first person I've met in the world of blogging that I've now also met in person. And it was lovely. I'll get back to the what's and where's of our day (and the pretty stash above) in a bit...

When I think about it, and certainly if someone had tried to explain it to me before I'd experienced it, it seems like a weird old thing we do in the blogosphere - establish, develop and maintain relationships, even deep and meaningful friendships, with people we have never met and might, in some cases, never meet. 

I know in the time before blogs and the internet it did happen - this story always come to mind and beautifully illustrates this for me - but surely it's not only more possible but more likely, now that the tendrils of internet communication stretch across the planet and make it easier to connect, share and participate in each other's lives more regularly, to make these global relationships work? And isn't it awesome? As someone who remembers all too clearly the days and difficulties of trying to maintain even the strongest and most well-established relationships long-distance, when snail mail took more than a month to travel and one ten minute phone-call every second month was all I could afford to my family on the other side of the world, I know it has made it easier for me. I'm able to engage with those I care about daily if I want or need to, and so maintain my closeness to them. It's being able to share the small details, the trivia, the daily, weekly, monthly nuances of what we're doing, thinking and feeling that makes all the difference I believe. Instead of meeting in person only at momentous occasions and catching up on months or years of news, or very irregularly catching up telephonically because of differences in time zone, expense and so on, blogs and email and facebook and sms messaging mean we can share the equivalent of a quick, regular virtual chat at our individual convenience. And, taking it further, the joy of interacting visually and in real-time through a video link over Skype with my baby niece and young nephews (having them recognise me and blow kisses even before they can talk or show me their latest art project from that day at school or being able to watch them unwrap their Christmas presents, for example), or having my mother or sister or a dear friend visible and talking to me as I sort through my cupboards in the afternoon where I am, while they potter around their kitchen in the evening, or sip a cup of morning tea on the opposite side of the world where they are, is testament to the power of this amazing facility. It's more like having them in the room than anything but actually having them in the room can be. For someone like me, who is least comfortable communicating on the telephone (certifiably phobic about it actually) even with people I love, it has revolutionised keeping in touch.

So, waffly tangent about the joy of 21st century communications in general aside... back to bloggy friendships, yesterday, and my musings on the train home... Blogs fulfill a very important role in this social dimension of life for me now too. They allow me to not only show what I'm up to to my existing friends and family but to meet and get to know someone new, hang out (even when they are not physically live online), share bits and pieces of my life with them too and interact in a brief but regular and meaningful way through comments and emails. It's the stuff friendships are forged from and polished with. Granted, it's only glimpses and elements we share of our lives and I'm very, very conscious that my online life does not reflect the entirety of my offline life, nor could it ever fully replace it but I cannot deny that it's now integral to my life. And that it feels significant - valued and important... real. It's something we discussed during the course of the day, Sarah and I, something which neither of us anticipated when we began blogging but have both found to be an enriching aspect of it - how one can come to know and, more importantly, care about someone under these entirely online circumstances. And how sometimes, circumstance allow us to bring that into the "real" world offline, and what that feels like.

I'm not horribly lacking in self-esteem (most days) but I have many little insecurities and quirks and these are uncomfortably amplified when I am thrust into new social situations... After making the arrangements, as the moment drew near, I was struck very nervous at the prospect of actually meeting Sarah yesterday. As I said to her later, I believe we had more chance of hitting it off than many people who meet in person for the first time as through our blogs and emails, we know something about each other and have already established some basis for affection and rapport. I am (and so is Sarah, I now know) actually very shy though and as the moment to meet approached I became more and more anxious about how this might transfer into real life. What if we can't extend a conversation beyond the length of a comment? What if we find that we already know all we wish to know about each other? What if she loves the art at the gallery and I don't, or vice versa? What if my accent irritates her? What if she takes one look at me and hates my shoes or my squiggly teeth or my hairstyle or the way I twist my sugar wrappers when I'm done with them???

As it turned out, I don't think any of these things were true, or mattered enough to sink the day or the friendship. And besides, we can't really control some of this anyway, can we? I wore safe shoes and avoided having coffee so I wouldn't want sugar, but I let the occasional silences (and they were very occasional) just comfortably and naturally move back into  chat, I didn't hide how I felt about the art or the fact that I was a bit nervous or had not given any thought to what we might do after we left the gallery... The rest - the way I look, the way I sound - is just who I am and I cannot do much about it. And it was fine. I cannot speak for Sarah, but I had a lovely day and I look forward to the next time we can meet.

What occurred to me as I mulled this over late last night is that in many ways getting to know someone this way (online first) cuts through some of the superficial stuff that sometimes creates barriers to meeting and making friends of people we randomly encounter offline. I would never dismiss someone as a potential friend based on how they dress, their age, or which side of the spoon they drink their soup from but they say that we assess someone visually in the first few seconds of meeting and make judgments about whether or the extent to which we might get along before a single word is spoken. And this is true. I'm keenly sensitive to the damage that that this kind of superficial assessment can do, especially if taken to extremes, and guard against it fiercely. Some of the people I love most in the world have apparently very little or nothing in common with me if we measure what we see on the outside alone. But it's still valid to some degree and I'm as guilty as anyone in some circumstances of being initially influenced by subliminal associations I have with visual clues to who a person is. I would be way more wary, for example, of approaching a youth with knuckle tattoos wearing a hoodie in an inner city area to ask for directions than I would of the more mature woman in a raincoat and headscarf sitting next to him at the bus stop. He might well have the answer and be a sweetheart, and she might be inclined to hit strangers with her handbag and swear at them for all I truly know but I assess her as less risky and intimidating to engage with simply by her appearance, her gender, her age. It's very superficial but it's all I have to work with in those few moments.

In the online world, these things hardly factor. I don't know how old or what some of the people I really like online look like. And they don't know this about me. They might know a lot about me but I guarantee, there's a lot more they don't yet know. However, what they do know is significant. When we blog, we share our likes, dislikes, taste in books, music, art, food, thoughts, feelings... get to know each other inside first through these things. We literally see the world through each other's eyes when we look at photographs of landscapes, homes, family, personal treasures... and so we learn what's important to each other. We laugh together, we support each other,  we reveal the good and the bad of who we we are to each other (to greater or lesser extent) and we find things we have in common or differences to savour and, in some cases, we become friends. By the time we meet, if we meet, the fact that someone compulsively twists their sugar wrappers or has wrinkles or speaks differently is less likely to throw us off or to be an inhibiting factor. It might still. But I would hope not. Genuine affection sees past or through or does not even notice these things except as they add to the colour and texture of a person we already like, even care for.

I acknowledge that something we discover or reveal in a face-to-face meeting may well turn out to be a friendship deal-breaker even after having established these grounds for a relationship online. There's no denying the fact. One only has to look to internet dating for evidence. But in this blogging world of ours, I imagine that's relatively rare. Yes, things might have gone differently yesterday but as it is, I enjoyed Sarah's company and what we did together.  Six hours whizzed by and I was suddenly travelling back with a head full of new stuff I know and like about her and new experiences to treasure (and some cool stash).

Some of the highlights for me were:

~ the moment we recognised each other on the steps of the gallery 

~ the fact that she didn't flinch when she saw or heard me and I knew it would be all right (unless she just hides her involuntary reactions very well)

~ the exhibition, and finding out that both of us find elephant dung and coloured pins quite appealing as a creative medium

~ deciding what we would do next as the moment and mood took us

~ shopping at Anthropologie with someone who was as interested and inspired as I am by the way they got those paper curls dyed and arranged like that and the big mirror made of little old frames and smaller mirrors arranged like a gallery, which I think I'm going to try to recreate in my new hallway (yes, of course their was lots of other cool stuff but Anthropologie is at least as much about the shop dressing for me as the goodies one might buy!)

~ discovering that Sarah is not only willing to travel to but excited by browsing round a shop full of ribbons and feathers and frippery (and where we both came away with some loveliness to add to our respective hoards)

~ learning that she likes milk in her tea and lemon drizzle cake

~ finding out more about the amazing work she does with young children and how much this means to her

~ that she remembered details about me that I had forgotten I'd even revealed on my blog

~ that she listened patiently and didn't seem too put off by my sporadic and apparently uncontrollable rants (I know someone who bought half - yes, half - an Easter egg for his wife and then bragged about it. It was not a novelty Easter egg. He just knew she'd only like the milk chocolate half of it so he'd get to eat the dark chocolate half. He really winds me up. But that's another story...)

~ having her walk at a hefty clip about three miles down a platform to see me off on the train because we were still chatting nineteen-to-the-dozen when it came time to say goodbye... I thought that was such a sweet thing to do.

Thank you Sarah. I had a lovely day. I hope when you see me twist my sugar wrappers it won't be a deal-breaker because it's not something I can hide from you forever. Oh, and I forgot to say, what incredibly beautiful eyes you have. Apart from being warm and friendly, I have never, ever seen eyes that amazing colour before. And I like you a little bit more because of them. Is that very superficial?

Where salty and sweet meet...

I love estuaries. There's something special about places where rivers and seas meet, display the definite and distinct influence of both, and combine to create an ecosystem all of their own: a mingling of both fresh and saltwater, where changeable oceanic tidal forces meet rivers that are travelling usually at their most sedate pace but are still unstoppable in their mission to join with the sea.... However calmly or fiercely they collide, and the extent to which this occurs varies hugely depending on the geography they've helped create in the past, whether it's a brackish lagoon or an only slightly diluted rough sea inlet, they meet. And we have an estuary. It's almost like a love story of opposites. And they come together to create some of the richest and most beautiful natural habitats on the planet - both in the water and along their shores. When I volunteered at a marine aquarium some years ago I used to know a lot more details about these special environments but I recall figures suggesting that a huge proportion of the human population of the world is settled on estuaries and nearby coastal areas. It's something phenomenal like fifty to sixty percent - I forget the exact numbers. (Frightening when I realise how much stuff I know I knew once but can no longer claim to know 'cause those brain cells are all fuzzy now. Scary!)

Anyway, the area I was in down in Devon is a huge and remarkable estuary of the kind known as a Ria (I did actually remember this, which is a relief as it signifies that not all the grey matter has turned to a sieve yet!), and this means that the estuary is disproportionately large in relation to the size of the rivers that flow into it because of a change of sea level and so the influence of the sea tends to be way more evident than that of the river or rivers that join it: the smell of salt in the air, gulls, tides, waves, beaches with briny pebbles and seashells and driftwood... Lovely!

One of the delights of this particular area to me was how when the tide was in, there were almost no beaches and yet, when the tide withdrew, lots and lots of beautiful little sandy coves were revealed. It was a delight to walk them and from one to the other along the coastal paths that connect them like a string of jewels. This area of the country has been declared an AONB and I would vouch for that. Even in the rain.

And when the sun came out, they truly sparkled, these little beaches. Just like gems. The bottom photographs in each set of three are of the little cove directly in front of the hotel I stayed in and the very last one below is the view from my balcony on Saturday morning. The sunshine only lasted a few hours but it was so lovely to see it.

AONB? I thought so. How 'bout you?

p.s. apparently the little hotel I was in is one that Rod Stewart likes to stay in when he's in the area, which is still quite regularly I'm told although I believe he lives full-time in the US now. I was a little surprised to discover this. Not an obvious choice for a rock star of means. It's an absolutely lovely little place - family run for years and years, only about 30 very spacious and comfortable rooms (if mine was anything to go by), with great friendly and very professional service - but hardly rock and roll. Granted, it is still out of season so wonderfully quiet but I was probably the youngest guest by a decade or two (which I suppose is the right demographic for Mr Stewart, now that I think about it) and the decor, although immaculate, was very reminiscent of the 70s - maybe the very early 80s in the more recently updated sections - and not in a cool, hip-and-retro kind of a way. I did not spot Rod. But I did see several teased and lacquered hairdos I think he would have approved of.

p.p.s. if you are ever in the area of Salcombe, I would highly recommend this place for a bite to eat. Dick and Will know how to do seafood, and hospitality. Their tempura prawns and squid with sweet chili and wasabi is one of the most perfectly cooked and delicious things I've eaten in a long time. Washed down with a chilled pear cider. And again, the location... gorgeous!

p.p.p.s several people expressed an interest in the ponies from the post below and if you'd like to know a little more about them, this might be worth a peek.  For those who prefer the Cliffs notes version, my friend C, who knows her ponies, tells me: they are Exmoor ponies - the most ancient of British native wild ponies - and apparently this little herd is a semi-wild or semi-feral one (this accounts for the fact that they allowed me to get really quite close without any signs of concern, because they are used to hikers and walkers) and are treasured as part of the natural heritage as well as being factored into the conservation grazing strategies of the area.

Here's another picture, which shows the distinctive light markings around the muzzle that makes them easy to recognise as not being Dartmoor ponies, in case you should ever wish to make that distinction in future...

...and just because they're adorable.

Where wild ponies wander...

...and violets bloom

I've spent the past three days mostly tucked up on my sofa getting over a bit of a lurgy that I think was activated by an abundance of rain and fresh air, although they felt nothing but invigorating at the time. The scent of sea, gorse, bracken, rain, moss, earth, and yes, wild violets in both violet and white (quite rare now to find growing in such healthy quantites), lingered in my memory while my actual olfactory faculties were not functioning at all well for a few days.

I hate to admit that I've turned into one of those wimpy, can't-take-any-real-weather, city girls so am just going to claim that I chose to extend my down-time by a few extra days, which is partially true too. Although I could probably have done so without the bug, it was nothing dreadfully bad and it has just given me even more excuse not to move very far or very fast or do very much at all. I have made a somewhat feeble start on my packing (four or five boxes and hardly a dent made) but mostly it's been more reading, snoozing, and dreaming of how I might organise my new space when I move at the end of the month. My head felt like it was full of cotton-wool for a bit, granted, but in a bizarre way, it was almost pleasant. I took the opportunity to be thoroughly lazy. And reclusive. I switched off my cell phone for three entire days (literally cannot remember when I last - if ever - did that) and did not go online much either. This, combined with the time in Devon when I had neither cell signal or internet access for most of the time, probably constitutes the longest period in about ten years that I've been that technologically disconnected from the outside world.  It was actually a relief and I think I might do that more often (without the head-cold or the laziness).

Only a few days of my leave left now and (despite last minute alterations to plans) I'm focussing hard on how lovely and long and relaxing it's been (and will be yet, until Wednesday) rather than on how quickly it has passed and how anxious I start to feel at the prospect of returning to the mania of my workaday life. I've always been sure that if I won humungous amounts of money on the lottery (the only way I imagine I'll ever be in a position to even contemplate a work-free lifestyle) I'd continue to work because it gives meaning and purpose to my life (and it does, both) but these days I confess I would be quite happy to find meaning and purpose elsewhere if only I could find a way to make that work too. Part of this is about me drawing stronger boundaries where I am so that I do not become so drained but I'm a go-with-all-your-heart sort of a girl (and always will be) and I think the anxiety has more to do with my heart not being all there anymore, which means work feels more demanding than nourishing now, regardless of how much or how little time I'm there or how much or how little effort I expend there. This past fortnight has truly crystallised this for me and I'm more determined than ever to free myself up for that sabbatical next year so that I can explore some alternatives. Or to win the lottery. Either will serve my intentions.

In the meantime, mes amis, the current holiday continues for a little while. I have a very special city adventure planned for Tuesday (which I will share on my return) and I hope this finds you enjoying some relaxing, soul-replenishing time too.  If it includes the scent of the sea, or rain on rich earth, or wild violets, or steaming honey, ginger and lemon (which today I can happily smell again), or something that  makes you happy (as these do me), so much the better!

♥

Plan B - muted moods

A city is a place where there is no need to wait for next week to get the answer to a question, to taste the food of any country, to find new voices to listen to and familiar ones to listen to again.

Margaret Mead

(1901-1978)

When anxious, uneasy and bad thoughts come, I go to the sea, and the sea drowns them out with its great wide sounds, cleanses me with its noise and imposes a rhythm upon everything in me that is bewildered and confused.

Rainer Maria Rilke

(1875-1926)

Best laid plans...

Dining el fresco

Enjoying tea and a book in the park

En route to the seaside...

In the UK, plans should never depend on the weather being fine. Never. My deal-with-the-weather-no-matter-what strategy includes: dress in layers, always (always) carry an umbrella and be prepared to have a good time regardless of rain.

Last week this was true in London and this week I've been applying these guidelines rigorously on the south coast too.  Because, yes, with the exception of Saturday, it has rained every day of my leave so far. Every day. 

It's true to say that it's been nothing like the week I originally had in mind but, I have to admit, it's been fun too. I've walked for hours, I've dined well, I've read lots, I've slept long, I've breathed deeply and I've watched the weather move in various moods over the sea. It's been peaceful. 

I'll share some more photographs of these mini adventures over the next few days but for today, feel free to pop over to Claire's beautiful space, where she showcases her lovely words and images, and have a browse around. I was very honoured when Claire invited me to guest post for a day while she's off enjoying some guaranteed sunshine, and chose to share some musings on dealing with plans gone awry. I'm thinking it could become my speciality subject on Mastermind. Perhaps not quite as interesting as Orthopaedic Bone Cement in Total Hip Replacement, Perfect Squares from 992 = 9801, or The History of Lancashire County Cricket Club (all previous submissions for speciality subjects) but something I'm beginning to feel I know a little about.

Best laid plans...

Now that I'm home again - and yes, it's still raining - my non-weather-dependent plan is to catch up with what you've been up to. I'm looking forward to it. A lot. And because in the blogosphere one can encounter all four seasons in a day, you can be sure that I'll be dressed in layers, carrying an umbrella, and absolutely prepared to have a good time, regardless of the weather. I'll see you out there...

Plan B - seek out some sunshine

Amazing how even a few hours of sunny skies can make the earth (and me) feel more colourful and cheerful.

This week I'm going to London for a couple of days and then I'm heading south as far as I can go (without a passport) in pursuit of a little more of it. At the moment, all I know is that it'll be on the Devon coast somewhere and that I'm going to pack my camera, some paints and my walking shoes. I'm looking forward to breathing in some sea air and I'm  hopeful the sunshine will come out to play...

What are you looking forward to this week? Whatever you're up to today, I hope you have a good one!

Working on...

...Plan B

Never give in... never, never, never, never, in nothing great or small, large or petty, never give in except to convictions of honour and good sense. Never yield to force... never yield to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy.

Winston Churchill

(1874-1965)

If one dream should fall and break into a thousand pieces, never be afraid to pick one of those pieces up and begin again.

Flavia Weedn

(1929)

The robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief.

William Shakespeare, Othello

(1564-1616)

Farewell February...

Well, 1st of March, officially Spring. And although someone forgot to tell the weather (we have heavy snow forecast for later this week) I'm going to pretend it's on its way nevertheless. I'm glad February's over.

Having said that, February may turn out to be one of my favourites this year because of this... Lisa posted every. single. day (plus one). on the subject of love. I use lots of hyperbolic words but I seldom say awesome. They are though, these posts. Awesome. Full of heart, fun and happiness, questions and answers, light and dark, just as love is. And of course, her always gorgeous photographs. If you haven't already seen them, please do yourself and your heart a favour and pop over to read back on them. I don't think you'll be sorry.

And on the subject of hearts... the picture above is something I bought myself during the month of February from this delightful shop. Yes, yes, I know I'm not supposed to be spending (I'm speaking to my alter-ego Peggy, who manages our budget and sees this as sheer frivolity) but there are some things that just have to be had. And this is one of them. It was a Valentine's and anniversary gift to myself and despite the sad message actually marks another year of a heart that's slowly healing, so it's a little celebratory marker really. It isn't my usual style this, bleeding hearts, but I find the way Jordan's combined these images and text very beautiful. Kites are quite significant in this story of mine too, so it seemed the perfect thing. And I'm not sorry I spent on it. Sorry.

In celebration of all things lighter and brighter, like Spring and heart's renewal, I had a bit of a play in Picnik this weekend and made a new header. I had great fun but I'm a bit worried that it looks like I'm shooting fire out of my eyes at you all, a' la Carrie. I'm not. Honestly. I wouldn't, even if I could. I just wanted to remind myself that this is my year of sparkle and that I have to find it inside and out... Do let me know if you find it just too scary though and I'll try again.

Otherwise, not much to report. It's already Monday by 44 minutes here, which means officially my working week's started, so I guess I should try to get some sleep. I feel childishly resentful of having to go to bed tonight because it feels like work will come on that bit sooner if I do. Of course, I'll be cursing myself when I'm still awake at 4am and tomorrow afternoon when I'm struggling to string a coherent sentence together because my brain's sleep deprived. So I'd better do the sensible thing. That might appease Peggy somewhat.

Anyway, I hope this finds you well, that you've had a lovely weekend and that the week ahead promises to be a good one...

Farewell February. Welcome March!

♥

Picnic perfection

Something that makes me indescribably happy is a picnic. My childhood was filled with them - simple, carefree meals in luscious gardens, riverine valleys, roadside fields, ancient forests, red sand deserts.... One of my very earliest memories is of my Nana with a tea towel spread across her knees, peeling an apple for me as we watched the sunset gathering of impala, giraffe and zebra at a watering hole. I can smell that air and taste that apple still. 

I celebrated my coming of age with a luxurious Edwardian champagne & strawberries affair alongside a mountain lake; discovered love over bread, cheese and philosophy shared on a beach; listened to symphonies soar with friends and family against a backdrop of magical mountains and the flavour of roasted bell-pepper and avocado salad; watched stars shoot through the Milky Way with the taste of toasted marshmallows on my tongue and the scent of cherry orchards in the air; snuggled in a sleeping bag under trees that smelt of resin, wearing every article of clothing I had with me against the cold, and shared a sandwich with a stranger.... 

So many lovely picnics across the landscape of my life. And I look forward to many more. There's something about the act of such casual yet intimate sharing of food and drink in the open air that makes everything delicious, conversation flow, and hearts open wide. Even when being outdoors is not an option, a carpet picnic with friends is one of my favourite ways to entertain. 

In fulfillment of my role as bridesmaid/matron-of-honour later this year I am, along with three others, planning the 'hen do', which will take place in June. There will be about 25 of us and we're going to Stratford-upon-Avon for the day. We'll spend the afternoon cruising up the river Avon, have a riverside or boat picnic (depending on the weather) before heading back into town to glam up, enjoy one of Shakespeare's finest at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre and then on to a late dinner and dancing. It should be fun. We've divided the day's events up between us and I'm on picnic-planning duty. 

So this weekend I started to formulate my vision. Relaxed, romantic, fresh and fun is what I'm thinking. And for some reason, although I'm not usually a huge fan of them, polka dots and checks in red and white came to mind.

I've never organised a picnic quite like this. I'm excited and delighted. I want to make it special. I'm also nervous of getting it wrong. This is a situation that has so many traditions attached and I would hate to flout convention (which is how I would normally roll) and disappoint expectations. 

It needs to be the perfect picnic.

And so I'm open to suggestions. Wide open....

[Flickr credits]

Looking up

white on white

April 2009

I've had my head down for so long. Watching my feet to make sure that they stay on the ground and keep moving forwards. And it's good to be grounded, right?

But there's a lot that's missed when hearts and eyes are kept averted.

This weekend, I'm going to find a quiet spot and spend a little time looking out towards the horizon. And up. Around and up.

Who knows what I might see out there...

Sunshine toes

 

We love long lazy weekends, my toes and I. 'Specially if we can find a sunspot to curl up in.

It's been chilly and raining most of the weekend but then, briefly, the sun came out.... 

Happy toes. Happy me. 

So we took a little nap... one has to use these sunshine moments well.

I hope that whatever you're up to, there's a sunspot to be found in your weekend too. Literal or figurative.

Edit: for those who've expressed an interest in the polish colour... this one is Vixen by Revlon. There's a similar purply one that I wear by Rimmel called Pulsating - also very pretty. Who thinks up the names for these make-up products I wonder?! 

[P.S. Changed my header back because of a request from someone extra 'specially special who really likes this one. And actually, I think perhaps it does suit me better. So anyway, it's back, for a while at least.]

We share the same sky

I find this comforting when I feel far away from those I love. The sky connects us all.

This weekend I'll be looking up...

Happy Friday!
♥

Sink into Pink

Who can resist?

The Jewellery Quarter

pavement wisdom

jewellery is not always ornament

True, it's also - and for a long time I guess was primarily - used to express intent, allegiance, membership, ownership, status, wealth, as currency or for protection. It can be functional or symbolic or decorative, or all of these at once. 

Jewellery is not always ornament.

But sometimes that's exactly what it is. Can anyone ever have too many pretty beads I wonder?

If ever you're in the UK and at a loose end, this place is well worth a visit. A fascinating glimpse into the heyday of the industrial era. 

And I discovered this weekend that they serve a lovely cup of tea with homemade scones and strawberry jam in the adjacent café too. Added incentive to visit...

Sunshine and Spring flowers

I know that as Spring is now properly sprung I should be thinking about casting off blankets and throws and spending less time snuggled up on my sofa or under my duvet but oh, how I LOVE this and this. Spring flower beds - so pretty.

And I see Anthropologie now delivers in the UK. Uh-oh!

The sun shone yesterday. And it called me outside to play.... So I popped into town briefly to buy some trousers for work (much needed) but came home with this instead (not at all needed). 

I blame it on the sunshine. It led me astray.

Rainbow Dancers

At the other end...

crane love.

Beautiful blue cranes. Vulnerable. But they dance for love. Under a rainbow.

For Lisa

Happy Friday Lovelies!

♥

[Photographs taken by my sister in the Overberg, Spring 2008]

Seeking the Spice...

As in the variety that adds flavour to life. I would say, the variety that is life for me. Life as opposed to existence. Bread is good. I LOVE bread. But a cinnamon bun... now that's what lifts a day into the realms of special. And I like special. I like cinnamon. And vanilla. And nutmeg. And cloves...

I know what they taste like and I crave them. I need more spice.

I understand that it has something to do with the season. The awakening and reawakening that Spring brings. Most years it manifests itself in me as a vague restlessness - a breeze that blows across the landscape of my life, brings the tantalizing smell of spices on the air, and calls me out to enjoy them. This year it's arrived like a storm. Demanding I take notice.

I need a change. I need to make a change. And it feels like it needs to be a fundamental one. Not just a brief visit to a happy place, an occasional afternoon of splashing paint on canvas, or an extra helping of crème brûlée. Although all of these things do contribute to a delicious life.

I'm thinking perhaps a move to a spice infused island... or to a house on cinnamon street... or how about opening a bakery? Or the equivalent. You get the idea. Something that alters or impacts on the every day in every way.

What alerts me to this need?

Probably the clearest indicator is the 3am wide-awake-and-staring-at-the-ceiling sessions I've been enjoying for months now. I miss being able to sleep soundly. In the past, when I've been unhappy or concerned, I've typically slept too often and too long. Now I don't sleep enough, or properly. And I can't ignore it any more. I'm exhausted. No matter how successfully I manage to avoid looking at things in daylight, how busy I keep myself, my subconscious never lets me ignore issues that really need tackling for long. And it seems to have adopted those quiet, dark hours to remind me of them. Not that it’s necessary to rely on a subliminal poke in the ribs at the moment. The way I feel about my current lifestyle is flashing in neon - BLAND. Not enough spice.

I've devoted pages to considering this in my journal - the whys and wherefores - and I won't rehash all of that navel-gazing here.

Just to say that I think most people create comfortable grooves in their lives and I believe we need those safe and familiar places. Appreciating the flavour in the simple, everyday is good. And I think acceptance of the here and now is good. But this isn’t about that.

I've spent the past few years concentrating on holding body and soul together - on the bread and butter. For a long time it took all my energy just to manage that much and I was happy for the distraction. But it allowed for no real planning beyond the day to day. Now my life is busy. Full even. I have much to be thankful for. And I am. But I know that I also need to look further ahead again and in that future I would like more of the variety that is the spice. And the courage to pursue it.

I recognise that if I don’t like where I’m at, the only person who can change it is me. I also recognise that it's probably not going to happen overnight.

But, if plans and actions begin in thoughts then I have made a start. My current mantra is: Be brave. Live consciously. Uphold integrity.

I think I need to add a fourth dimension: Seek spice.

[Flickr credits]

Chilly still but skies are blue and Spring is sprung

Is it so small a thing

To have enjoy'd the sun,

To have lived light in the spring,

To have loved, to have thought, to have done...

Matthew Arnold

(1822-1888)

Not so small a thing is it?