Saturday, 31 December 2016

The story of our 're-wilding', continued; trust

I realize that I may be misleading folks when I say that we have a big back yard. To us, it is very, very big. But that might be because living in the city all my adult life, I never had more than a postage stamp to work with. (I did some marvellous gardening in very small spaces of course - flowering vines are your friend!). I blush to tell you that in all, our total property is probably no more than 1/5th of an acre. Half of that is taken up by the driveway, our little house and the front yard. The other half is the yard proper - and we sure do have a lot going on in what I suppose is only 1/10th of an acre.

Thursday, 29 December 2016

The story of our 're-wilding'; body and soul

Okay, first off, I hate and detest the term "re-wilding".

It's right up there on my personal annoyance meter with "paleo" and "primal"; all these damned jingo-ist terms are so over-used, aren't they? And embraced for the most part by urban theorists, most of whom wouldn't know a gooseberry in the wild if it jumped up and bit them in the keester (but they put expensive 'alma' (gooseberry) powder in their smoothies!). You know the types, they also use words like "lifestyle" and some even wear those weird toe-shoes, believing, in a masterful leap of logic, that they are in some way going to trick the body into thinking it has bare feet.


Wednesday, 28 December 2016

On the training of the mind to obey the heart's convictions

I've written a post over at the garbling blog about what it takes to be a well rounded herbalist. It's actually (although I didn't say so there) also about what we talk about here, letting the heart lead the mind. So pop over there and have a look-see, taking into account (of course) that each person's journey is a their own. You can comment back here or over there, where ever you feel most comfortable.

Here's the link.

Saturday, 24 December 2016

Learning to not worry is HARD

As I begin to write this, the whole of Christmas is in a state of flux for our family.

When you have the kind of family we do - and most of us do these days - between all the step families and inlaws, everyone has to do Christmas a few times over.

Friday, 16 December 2016

Alchemy of Woman

Some of the discussion developing in the comments to a previous post is veering into dangerous territory, the academic take on feminism and equality - oy.

Oy, oy, oy.

I never quite know how I'll respond when someone starts quoting the 'thinkers' about the 'lot' we women face; probably I should chuckle but mostly I get rankled. I get rankled because our lot is not just one, but many, and I find it offensive that 'we', and 'our experience' are discussed in academia as though we are creatures that can be understood by study from afar.

Just amongst the readers of this blog, no two women have the same experiences, needs, passions and desires, very few of which can be reduced to matters of 'equality'. As Navillus, in that comment thread, so aptly puts it: "I am not a feminist but am myself."

Multiply that by the billions and the generalisations made by the 'thinkers' get even sillier.

Not to mention dry as dust.

Tuesday, 13 December 2016

Clearing the temple

Paul and I are having exceedingly bad hair days.

That's just one of the symptoms of the flu-ish type thing we seem to have picked up on a shopping trip. (I'm figuring flu simply because it came on so fast. Colds kind of creep up, flu is a 'wham', you're sick kind of thing).

Apart from the bad hair - which is amusing more than anything - we're not feeling too bad. Gross, yes, but not entirely miserable about it. No doubt it is psychologically easier to be sick when you're retired and don't have anything really pressing to attend to, just the usual chores which can be done more slowly and with a chuckle. The foggy brain means we have to think about what we could normally do with our eyes closed. I had really had to concentrate when I made the bread yesterday and Paul had some trouble folding his laundry.

In our strange and twisted private world-view, catching a virus once in a while is a good thing.

Friday, 9 December 2016

"Who close their eyes and still can see"

(Part of this post comes in response to an email, the rest is just my babblings)

I just had a jolly little dance session in my living room, radio volume at full blast. I'll link you to the song at the end of this post - and who knows, maybe you'll dance too.

'Who cannot dance must bleed' they said, as Doris Lessing put it in her novel Briefing For a Descent Into Hell*. Ms Lessing sometimes lapses into poetry to say what can't be said in prose. I like that about her writing.