Oh dear, i lost my blog...
does this sound ridiculous? it really happened, i spent hours scouring my computer's history, my emails, everything. Now i have bookmarked it and let's hope that it shall never happen again. I also hadn't realized just how long it has been since i have written.
So, today i would like to talk about religion, i suppose mine really, and here is another of those dualities, i believe in everything. i want to believe in everything good- and generally focus on the positive and the possibilities. I also believe in reality and rationality, though really, there is magic within science and physics, mysteries and vastness that are so beautiful and amazing also.
Tonight is the Winter Solstice where i live, and i must tell you, i am feeling it. an energy, a tingling, a power within and all around, a whisper of the darkness and depth of years past.. an ancient history that at times i feel so connected to. Humanity, and simply being a being on our beautiful earth, and having hope and celebration for the return of the sun. the fire within and the return of life-giving sky-fire. Can you imagine doubting that it might not come back? The uncertainty and fear, even a little second-guessing, i can see it. I think we have this for many of our hopes, i know i do, holding onto the hops, but not too tightly, preparing for that sinking loss, for climbing back out of the hole, the darkness.
Tonight i stared out into the small forest around my home, and i imagined the vastness, the silence, the perhaps deeply darkness of our forests of another time. i am thankful for the freedom to practice any religion i choose, to hold beliefs and rituals and they be no one else's business.
My son and i and our dog- a goofy Labrador- went into our woods and gathered evergreen branches to make some wreathes, or something.. Bringing these evergreens is said to offer
Sunday, 21 December 2014
Thursday, 14 August 2014
Good evening, friends
I must say, that i am feeling.. under the weather. That is to say, battling with depression. Not that this is anything at all new, in fact, i feel that mostly as far back as i can remember, i had this aggravating itch, a gnawing sadness that, though it improves somewhat at times, can be very overwhelming at others. Let me also point out that i am also very optimistic and so absolutely in love with life, and the world and all its heart-breaking beauty. having to point out this last fact, i find rather important, as i have seen many people (and i am including professionals) that feel that it's the Eeyore type that suffer depression, the pessimistic lot that don't appreciate beauty and have thankfulness and so on(though not to say that i don't care or relate to those ones, either, all suffering is real, yeah?) . Anyway, i find most opinions somewhat misguided and too generalized and, well, egotistical? Perhaps i shall come back to this thought sometime in the future.
On the subjeect of depression, i am feeling oddly reminded these past few days, with the unfortunate passing of beloved Robin Willliams, as people are mourning, and posting information on social media regarding mental illness and suicide help. i feel isolated. i feel that really, maybe some people care a little bit about my personal (or one's personal) battle or health, but generally, i don't know. who can help?
i also just about brought myself to tears, in trying to find my dang blog at this short window of opportunity. i'm learning these new fangled flibbity-gibbetty contraptions, but perhaps ever so slowly.
i do feel somewhat awkward, to begin only my third entry with the subject of my writhing mentality, but part of the idea for me to start here was to eventually be honest, to be able to voice my story, where i have often found, through many reasons, it either won't come out, or won't be heard. One doesn't want to burden the friends or family one has.
On subject of 'under the weather', i also find a slightly frustrating ailment. While i do in fact quite enjoy rainy days (since especially my youth, being of rather pink complexion and feeling rather singed (skin and eyes) by the sun, the rain was welcome reprieve, the moist air soothing, the darkness refreshing.. though i feel the same, years of working in garden-centres and exploring/ running free in the sun, i have given myself substantial enough damage to tan and somewhat toughen to heat and sun. ) The low barrometric pressure causes migraines. i remember the feeling as a child, but didn't realize it was connected. so, though i find them beautiful and delightful, i still feel rather ill and pained and, well, i find that it affects my sensory uptake and just everything seems weird.
It is raining now. There is a sensuality that i can't overlook to mention. the deliciousness of the soil opening up, the sweet droplets becoming one a million bajillion times. The growth of life in all it's juicy glory! And the thunder. Let me say, that i, i feel it. i feel it deep in my body, it awakes this sensuality and connection. It rubs my soul and body the right way. i just. sometimes i feel like i am squandering this without someone who can look that bit deeper. Not just see this as sillyness (though i understand it is, like much of the delights in life, rather silly, and fun.. and serious.. ), but to also see that deep need inside me. The full spectrum of it being silly, and whimsical,and sexy,and also intelectual, and carnal,and.. and deeply needed.
Sorry for the disjointedness, and thanks for coming by. This project, like everything, is a work in progress, one that i appreciate someone is reading from their little window to the world.
I must say, that i am feeling.. under the weather. That is to say, battling with depression. Not that this is anything at all new, in fact, i feel that mostly as far back as i can remember, i had this aggravating itch, a gnawing sadness that, though it improves somewhat at times, can be very overwhelming at others. Let me also point out that i am also very optimistic and so absolutely in love with life, and the world and all its heart-breaking beauty. having to point out this last fact, i find rather important, as i have seen many people (and i am including professionals) that feel that it's the Eeyore type that suffer depression, the pessimistic lot that don't appreciate beauty and have thankfulness and so on(though not to say that i don't care or relate to those ones, either, all suffering is real, yeah?) . Anyway, i find most opinions somewhat misguided and too generalized and, well, egotistical? Perhaps i shall come back to this thought sometime in the future.
On the subjeect of depression, i am feeling oddly reminded these past few days, with the unfortunate passing of beloved Robin Willliams, as people are mourning, and posting information on social media regarding mental illness and suicide help. i feel isolated. i feel that really, maybe some people care a little bit about my personal (or one's personal) battle or health, but generally, i don't know. who can help?
i also just about brought myself to tears, in trying to find my dang blog at this short window of opportunity. i'm learning these new fangled flibbity-gibbetty contraptions, but perhaps ever so slowly.
i do feel somewhat awkward, to begin only my third entry with the subject of my writhing mentality, but part of the idea for me to start here was to eventually be honest, to be able to voice my story, where i have often found, through many reasons, it either won't come out, or won't be heard. One doesn't want to burden the friends or family one has.
On subject of 'under the weather', i also find a slightly frustrating ailment. While i do in fact quite enjoy rainy days (since especially my youth, being of rather pink complexion and feeling rather singed (skin and eyes) by the sun, the rain was welcome reprieve, the moist air soothing, the darkness refreshing.. though i feel the same, years of working in garden-centres and exploring/ running free in the sun, i have given myself substantial enough damage to tan and somewhat toughen to heat and sun. ) The low barrometric pressure causes migraines. i remember the feeling as a child, but didn't realize it was connected. so, though i find them beautiful and delightful, i still feel rather ill and pained and, well, i find that it affects my sensory uptake and just everything seems weird.
It is raining now. There is a sensuality that i can't overlook to mention. the deliciousness of the soil opening up, the sweet droplets becoming one a million bajillion times. The growth of life in all it's juicy glory! And the thunder. Let me say, that i, i feel it. i feel it deep in my body, it awakes this sensuality and connection. It rubs my soul and body the right way. i just. sometimes i feel like i am squandering this without someone who can look that bit deeper. Not just see this as sillyness (though i understand it is, like much of the delights in life, rather silly, and fun.. and serious.. ), but to also see that deep need inside me. The full spectrum of it being silly, and whimsical,and sexy,and also intelectual, and carnal,and.. and deeply needed.
Sorry for the disjointedness, and thanks for coming by. This project, like everything, is a work in progress, one that i appreciate someone is reading from their little window to the world.
Monday, 21 July 2014
the irony of beekeeping
Good morning, dear reader..
It's a summer morning here, the kind where you feel the heat and moisture in the air like sweet breath (that becomes angrier as the day goes on?) the scent of Valerian flowers and lilies waiting on the steps to caress the next person's olfactory receptors and make one sigh in summer flower bliss. My youngest has been eating caramel yogurt and watching cartoons beside me. My eldest has been cooking an omelet and getting ready to go beekeeping with my Grandfather, doesn't that sound amazing? I am so proud of my lad, and the opportunity for a child to get to do something like that with their great-grandfather just blows my mind.
I used to bee-keep you know. Yes, I quite enjoyed it, also. Beekeeping, though hot, i found to be rather relaxing (when one is not panicking, i must admit that the first time a whole swarm of bees heightens their buzz and surrounds you, it is hard to remember that you are safe) it is a job that requires mindfulness and patience. An awareness of the miracle, too, of these tiny little creatures, all working towards the central good. The miracle of each little drop of nectar eventually becoming a delightfully yummy, sticky, beautiful and natural treat. Amazing. Also the company was delightful, mostly men in my grandparents' generation, some ladies,though, too. Usually i would do the actual beekeeping with my grandfather and his friend, Pan, a really lovely gentleman with long, leather hands, and very sweet personality.
So why on earth would i stop this practice i so enjoyed?? Sneaky buggering allergies. I was never afraid to be stung, had been stung before, and was actually researching apitherapy, where one intentionally gets a bee sting to induce the endorphin response for various reasons, one being arthritis. We had talked at the meetings one time that beekeepers wives often develop the allergy to stings from doing laundry. the dried venom from the suit can become airborne when, say shaking out the suit and putting in the washer. i used to joke that since i was my own wife... I had a few stings slowly swell way beyond my usual reaction, which was somewhat bothersome for several days, this of course making if difficult to do work or housework. While extracting honey was when i got the first, rather alarming reaction. The set-up was in a large (clean) basement, at the beginning, we put the boxes full of frames from the truck onto those rollers that they used to have in supermarkets, remember those? So, using bare hands (oh i didn't mention it's quite hot !) i acidentally pinched a bee between my hand and the box. Sting, no big deal, carry on.. There are a couple other parts to this process, usually we cut the wax caps off of the honey comb with a hot knife, then place the frame into a machine that spins quickly and flings the honey out. Got a couple more stings, i think i pinched one in the ankle crease of my pants.. and one more i can't remember now.
SO. Then crept on the unexpected reaction. Suddenly, my vulva was on fire, terrible, itching burning agony. I mentioned it was hot in the room we were working, so i thought somehow a yeast infection or something, had onset with a violent rage. It was unbearable.I remember i went to the washroom, the feeling having spread then to my bum, eventually also to the hot-spots. my waist bad, bra band, under arms became big, swollen bands of hot itchy and awful. I think at some point, i mentioned to my grandfather that i was feeling unwell, he drove me home where i took some anti-histamine and had a shower. eventually the feeling sudsided somewhat, though i did still get some swelling inside my ears, and also actually had to miss work that week, because my hand had literally swelled to the size of a pillow.
I never mentioned before, that at this time, i was about 24 years old, and a single mum. On the days that i helped with beekeeping, my grandmother would watch my little boy, and we would get a meal, like lunch on normal days, but on this honey day, i knew we were having roast beef. We totally still went, though my ears were closing up.
For some reason, my grandparents wont see why i can't go beekeeping anymore. My grandmother has repeated again and again that it was because i found out that stings hurt. Much to my frustration. You see, doctors disagree (i find this amusing and interesting) about how these type of allergies (or i would say sensitivity) work, that they could become worse and worse and perhaps one could experience sudden serious, life-threatening symptoms. with just the huge swelling that occurs, i have to generally miss work for a week, which obviously is more than an inconvenience. So, though i do really love it, i have to take a long break, perhaps when my children are older i will try again..
Do you have any hobbies?
It's a summer morning here, the kind where you feel the heat and moisture in the air like sweet breath (that becomes angrier as the day goes on?) the scent of Valerian flowers and lilies waiting on the steps to caress the next person's olfactory receptors and make one sigh in summer flower bliss. My youngest has been eating caramel yogurt and watching cartoons beside me. My eldest has been cooking an omelet and getting ready to go beekeeping with my Grandfather, doesn't that sound amazing? I am so proud of my lad, and the opportunity for a child to get to do something like that with their great-grandfather just blows my mind.
I used to bee-keep you know. Yes, I quite enjoyed it, also. Beekeeping, though hot, i found to be rather relaxing (when one is not panicking, i must admit that the first time a whole swarm of bees heightens their buzz and surrounds you, it is hard to remember that you are safe) it is a job that requires mindfulness and patience. An awareness of the miracle, too, of these tiny little creatures, all working towards the central good. The miracle of each little drop of nectar eventually becoming a delightfully yummy, sticky, beautiful and natural treat. Amazing. Also the company was delightful, mostly men in my grandparents' generation, some ladies,though, too. Usually i would do the actual beekeeping with my grandfather and his friend, Pan, a really lovely gentleman with long, leather hands, and very sweet personality.
So why on earth would i stop this practice i so enjoyed?? Sneaky buggering allergies. I was never afraid to be stung, had been stung before, and was actually researching apitherapy, where one intentionally gets a bee sting to induce the endorphin response for various reasons, one being arthritis. We had talked at the meetings one time that beekeepers wives often develop the allergy to stings from doing laundry. the dried venom from the suit can become airborne when, say shaking out the suit and putting in the washer. i used to joke that since i was my own wife... I had a few stings slowly swell way beyond my usual reaction, which was somewhat bothersome for several days, this of course making if difficult to do work or housework. While extracting honey was when i got the first, rather alarming reaction. The set-up was in a large (clean) basement, at the beginning, we put the boxes full of frames from the truck onto those rollers that they used to have in supermarkets, remember those? So, using bare hands (oh i didn't mention it's quite hot !) i acidentally pinched a bee between my hand and the box. Sting, no big deal, carry on.. There are a couple other parts to this process, usually we cut the wax caps off of the honey comb with a hot knife, then place the frame into a machine that spins quickly and flings the honey out. Got a couple more stings, i think i pinched one in the ankle crease of my pants.. and one more i can't remember now.
SO. Then crept on the unexpected reaction. Suddenly, my vulva was on fire, terrible, itching burning agony. I mentioned it was hot in the room we were working, so i thought somehow a yeast infection or something, had onset with a violent rage. It was unbearable.I remember i went to the washroom, the feeling having spread then to my bum, eventually also to the hot-spots. my waist bad, bra band, under arms became big, swollen bands of hot itchy and awful. I think at some point, i mentioned to my grandfather that i was feeling unwell, he drove me home where i took some anti-histamine and had a shower. eventually the feeling sudsided somewhat, though i did still get some swelling inside my ears, and also actually had to miss work that week, because my hand had literally swelled to the size of a pillow.
I never mentioned before, that at this time, i was about 24 years old, and a single mum. On the days that i helped with beekeeping, my grandmother would watch my little boy, and we would get a meal, like lunch on normal days, but on this honey day, i knew we were having roast beef. We totally still went, though my ears were closing up.
For some reason, my grandparents wont see why i can't go beekeeping anymore. My grandmother has repeated again and again that it was because i found out that stings hurt. Much to my frustration. You see, doctors disagree (i find this amusing and interesting) about how these type of allergies (or i would say sensitivity) work, that they could become worse and worse and perhaps one could experience sudden serious, life-threatening symptoms. with just the huge swelling that occurs, i have to generally miss work for a week, which obviously is more than an inconvenience. So, though i do really love it, i have to take a long break, perhaps when my children are older i will try again..
Do you have any hobbies?
Sunday, 20 July 2014
salutations and beginnings..
welcome!
Look at you enjoying my very first ever blog post in my whole life! Is it as exciting for you? Perhaps not, but thanks for coming. Let me tell you, that i am, in fact, quite used to that feeling; being excited, moved, intrigued, ringing with being alive (!) while others look on, perhaps a little bored, or a little 'oh how quaint', or a lot 'that is painfully cheesy and I almost cannot take it'.
Yes, i am a sensitive lady. Lets add to that chronically optimistic, as well as actually dealing with chronic negative(are there positive ones? i'm not sure) mental health issues (depression, anxiety,post-trauma) and we have one of the many beautiful dualities that we observe/battle in our amazing lives.
*This photo is from my garden, it is a poppy, which i love and adore and are so beautiful and remind me for some reason, of Spanish dancers. They are of course very beautiful, but they are still so highly valued in our medicinal present, as our pain relief medication discovered by official means aprox 200 years ago, (and of course, humans have been using poppies for pain historically since the neolithic period) it is still the only one that works for excruciating pain, after all the research humans have been doing on the subject. i find that very fascinating. so, the other part, about the actual flowers; where i live, our beloved summer is rather short lived, and these flowers, they only last a couple of days at best, and yet we buy them,plant them,wait for them and rejoice (ok i do) at their arrival. Just for the glimpse of beauty that we wait all year for. It's really just an observation of a small part of our lives, perhaps even mostly unnoticed. i feel that that glimpse of beauty in our lives is very important to many humans. *
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