tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20268365703048335222024-03-06T12:56:34.392+13:00An angel in the gardenCatherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.comBlogger323125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-12698762112495622282020-12-12T23:28:00.000+13:002020-12-12T23:28:12.158+13:00This 40 Years....<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Last week, I received a complementary copy of this local magazine Living Hawke's Bay in the post.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEuOUpPVycR85k4TS6EC7pqaC7FtMe9C9ALwxuoAjniuB9l65AtEQ5XcRG3HyctFeYpqsL1weGmiQH4tkNEvnqurrTYEGrzKnhHEuamybm4ZjvpodXYnNQi9Hh5Z3PQTdR8pl0jpjX4kM/s1280/P1180561.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="955" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEuOUpPVycR85k4TS6EC7pqaC7FtMe9C9ALwxuoAjniuB9l65AtEQ5XcRG3HyctFeYpqsL1weGmiQH4tkNEvnqurrTYEGrzKnhHEuamybm4ZjvpodXYnNQi9Hh5Z3PQTdR8pl0jpjX4kM/w478-h640/P1180561.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>What a lovely gesture, from the editor. As it turns out there's an article in there about us...well, not so much about Rob, but without him there's no me and Lucy..<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvM5eSNdEQ7CR-qEAoVQZ9YpRiRK65n5gSWMLuyokKC0K9AH22Md8um6qwGccjHnPl9QyWMTEAzwOXJ_YOgdoZ8kfXJ3OW37z7yWJYuFbezvEuR_i3lNMk2Q1pVN6IByD8HVeFZaxgvmQ/s1280/P1180075.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvM5eSNdEQ7CR-qEAoVQZ9YpRiRK65n5gSWMLuyokKC0K9AH22Md8um6qwGccjHnPl9QyWMTEAzwOXJ_YOgdoZ8kfXJ3OW37z7yWJYuFbezvEuR_i3lNMk2Q1pVN6IByD8HVeFZaxgvmQ/w640-h480/P1180075.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>But a rather lovely capture of the essence of An angel in the garden (aka Sunshine Vintage) thanks to Jan Daffern for the great story and Charlotte Anderson for the wonderful photos.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ojPXY8hY0bQxWG9UixFv7K8bKgwduKwFltx45FaOo3ufIJlI2z-Hm44eadAd8H29B7puPgMBb41wHcV15YE3gNy2D2HDPwfSN2v5FKd0ozNfqMGeXpNztl41-0RvmgojSIiDOmnSNUY/s1280/P1180076.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="929" data-original-width="1280" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ojPXY8hY0bQxWG9UixFv7K8bKgwduKwFltx45FaOo3ufIJlI2z-Hm44eadAd8H29B7puPgMBb41wHcV15YE3gNy2D2HDPwfSN2v5FKd0ozNfqMGeXpNztl41-0RvmgojSIiDOmnSNUY/w640-h464/P1180076.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>I love that the article has appeared in a thoroughly local magazine. Here I am with Lucy and our sweet simple life, bumping alongside an accountant we used to go to church with and Cliff that makes fabulous food at the Farmers' Market and has recently opened a little cafe called the Colab cafe just down the road.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh50dM5rbarbtXvuMe7nm9F_RKawa2PF6MP3QG8YV8YR5z0InCfg66ZXYvDxjX-jDrgOmeCt1XJQBJFKAVwHB-D2NgAiWIkAe89Lx8kYny5ZbEJ5x5Y8VqgOxhxZYiLUjqY1VGLf1PqRQ0/s1280/P1180079.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1042" data-original-width="1280" height="520" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh50dM5rbarbtXvuMe7nm9F_RKawa2PF6MP3QG8YV8YR5z0InCfg66ZXYvDxjX-jDrgOmeCt1XJQBJFKAVwHB-D2NgAiWIkAe89Lx8kYny5ZbEJ5x5Y8VqgOxhxZYiLUjqY1VGLf1PqRQ0/w640-h520/P1180079.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It just so happened that in the same week that the magazine was published it was also our 40th wedding anniversary so we packed up a few lovely things and headed out to Havelock North to a fabulous and unique old barn, an airbnb called Tiger House. Our first stop was a visit to The Garden Market. Although that's not strictly true- our first stop was a brief visit to Farmers (a department store) in town- not something we get the opportunity to do very often. Rob came out of the shop incredulous that every shirt that he looked at had a price tag of $80. That little visit proved to be a retail therapy of an entirely different kind- we were both left feeling so very grateful for our resource-filled life and our abundance of interesting, economical op shopped clothes. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwSXD68xOyOb8s5Y5Os-lbcw2yUs3qfAsOlB_fjw9J50eCEzPn4uHdmA_SXcVlh6g5ROJ3K8KGqZtyacHiJbONPpEK_dQ9YCIJQSfgy_oSr_BMYXAxXXOfBQzy01gwayOdAg5aIK_P1jE/s1280/P1180121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwSXD68xOyOb8s5Y5Os-lbcw2yUs3qfAsOlB_fjw9J50eCEzPn4uHdmA_SXcVlh6g5ROJ3K8KGqZtyacHiJbONPpEK_dQ9YCIJQSfgy_oSr_BMYXAxXXOfBQzy01gwayOdAg5aIK_P1jE/w480-h640/P1180121.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I loved this old jug and bought it along with the flowers. I kept adding wildflowers to the mix as we went along.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid0AsTuc39WYf3xy6CdPw9jX4vEWQs9zCy-Y8YUqeFA_DIPynjSDyaglw2QF0EGJMyBmmn0-kAAFvwliGjpd82HwcmrZ36flTOaNja9UZt_WU_6n1O5XfmS46E_Z73MeXhYRmq5vmVqyA/s1280/P1180156+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid0AsTuc39WYf3xy6CdPw9jX4vEWQs9zCy-Y8YUqeFA_DIPynjSDyaglw2QF0EGJMyBmmn0-kAAFvwliGjpd82HwcmrZ36flTOaNja9UZt_WU_6n1O5XfmS46E_Z73MeXhYRmq5vmVqyA/w480-h640/P1180156+%25281%2529.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Tiger House is an old converted barn described as "Rustic, wild, private and unique".</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-weVe6ntIBDq2G_kTuzmqxuMUzNyWCpXsYy5rbAP-rH0c777OU3ZIN3xDx-IDk9mrlkRZJA5FFsQb_neUtCb314z1Q0u46ykS_aSekwKcunZOqDIksrmPocggLU4FhqCB1nioVR0mOgY/s1280/P1180367.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-weVe6ntIBDq2G_kTuzmqxuMUzNyWCpXsYy5rbAP-rH0c777OU3ZIN3xDx-IDk9mrlkRZJA5FFsQb_neUtCb314z1Q0u46ykS_aSekwKcunZOqDIksrmPocggLU4FhqCB1nioVR0mOgY/w640-h480/P1180367.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It's also cosy, welcoming and deeply restful.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-gGiuB-U_ReHuedTVw413VE5Qy9GT06XiZpfR8aCYFwPFXOju-2m9pTw1HxfZHqUgoZY53AS_VNljimj25869n5W9yfim67hcYTGFGUE7Itl2Mketn6jH3jkvuLdIriaskfHUEfwWZto/s1280/Catherine+Tiger+House+green.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-gGiuB-U_ReHuedTVw413VE5Qy9GT06XiZpfR8aCYFwPFXOju-2m9pTw1HxfZHqUgoZY53AS_VNljimj25869n5W9yfim67hcYTGFGUE7Itl2Mketn6jH3jkvuLdIriaskfHUEfwWZto/w480-h640/Catherine+Tiger+House+green.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I had a wonderful time reading these books.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV6wItbHHRYaTOHFy5A_5DVNoeInV56fvyAr-CPKP4YLGlFmrfqKsP3h6IqQtw625T70JoOJSF9Aus6tKAEqhiG3prQGijVRIiGz-loRBgjXjXLyohIlAmY3EGO8_nQbcjDsugQQjtU-4/s1280/P1180169+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV6wItbHHRYaTOHFy5A_5DVNoeInV56fvyAr-CPKP4YLGlFmrfqKsP3h6IqQtw625T70JoOJSF9Aus6tKAEqhiG3prQGijVRIiGz-loRBgjXjXLyohIlAmY3EGO8_nQbcjDsugQQjtU-4/w640-h480/P1180169+%25281%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">There was a swahili feel about the interior that made us feel as if we'd been mysteriously transported somewhere else in the world, not just 10 minutes down the road.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzg-rVsJdTj4c6h7TYY08o3S6MwIIPiAqXLBqK6O14hIJc3ns3glY79_dkLd9FDxFKP8RZ3oWt1Ow8fsnlrKFvzJt-U5_RqQBsobH1MR65btidD4QNCUSZufNKoSgz0uoHOno5cOJeTFA/s1280/P1180139.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzg-rVsJdTj4c6h7TYY08o3S6MwIIPiAqXLBqK6O14hIJc3ns3glY79_dkLd9FDxFKP8RZ3oWt1Ow8fsnlrKFvzJt-U5_RqQBsobH1MR65btidD4QNCUSZufNKoSgz0uoHOno5cOJeTFA/w480-h640/P1180139.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">There's quite a few reasons why Tiger House is not suitable for children- one of them being the presence of this prickly pear plant on the kitchen table! One of our favourite little tunes, just now, is also a song entitled <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iZb5t78FsJs" rel="nofollow">"Prickly Pear"</a> so....we introduced them.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgklh1Ysp89kk8c-hOma-9NIHdM7HCOlcns_gU-enqGab-EGpQPAxSsWIfgNhiM5nWXlNUFtMOInEbRr1NXWTBz8mbMEKoCXle9OP1kbjUlQRV9J3Cm_aKTsuZPrOlFKCkYlrF84OMY7dE/s1280/P1180167.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgklh1Ysp89kk8c-hOma-9NIHdM7HCOlcns_gU-enqGab-EGpQPAxSsWIfgNhiM5nWXlNUFtMOInEbRr1NXWTBz8mbMEKoCXle9OP1kbjUlQRV9J3Cm_aKTsuZPrOlFKCkYlrF84OMY7dE/w480-h640/P1180167.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The wonderful 110 year old barn lends itself perfectly to Woody's clever renovations.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Space enough to create a charming bathroom with old concrete tub </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9PFv3wdQ-pm9Sek3-7w04pOPmzNjrBDK9FHRdYBhcUOu7v_uU7pHnV5YhA4ByOBtkqMf3polm65NQQPbBLBYZgHvXlwxQLEgNUohpAe304PnTbc2jdzF3W3sCtqRHaG2BSH5n0lTVPMI/s1280/P1180131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9PFv3wdQ-pm9Sek3-7w04pOPmzNjrBDK9FHRdYBhcUOu7v_uU7pHnV5YhA4ByOBtkqMf3polm65NQQPbBLBYZgHvXlwxQLEgNUohpAe304PnTbc2jdzF3W3sCtqRHaG2BSH5n0lTVPMI/w480-h640/P1180131.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeREinCsAX2MJwCgpAykIvgkoKB-7wiwBMxIkiN57P-tVUaOhZIJn2fDtgk_Vrb130MPl5Pwnq60UwrnSueSDMkV3HYaRUflvufYjAnE7Gd3AhY0p7f4g5-cpu-bRzI5fJFWivPU8Z97E/s1280/P1180130.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeREinCsAX2MJwCgpAykIvgkoKB-7wiwBMxIkiN57P-tVUaOhZIJn2fDtgk_Vrb130MPl5Pwnq60UwrnSueSDMkV3HYaRUflvufYjAnE7Gd3AhY0p7f4g5-cpu-bRzI5fJFWivPU8Z97E/w480-h640/P1180130.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and a luxurious dressing room.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIleudZ8GCq9KJqTPHYoAr_TqKvuN50Dfmkhh-ZIbi9Xve2E2h0tThYPQ4IpjvMlqo5HJD-KryQQRsGELshXTk2hUltfG0ly3E2ah-L6HDSZMWr_t0GrF8V6Hr8o10HJ7A-DIxEFh-Ln0/s1280/P1180133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIleudZ8GCq9KJqTPHYoAr_TqKvuN50Dfmkhh-ZIbi9Xve2E2h0tThYPQ4IpjvMlqo5HJD-KryQQRsGELshXTk2hUltfG0ly3E2ah-L6HDSZMWr_t0GrF8V6Hr8o10HJ7A-DIxEFh-Ln0/w480-h640/P1180133.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"It's beautiful here</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">in this small room</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">in this small town</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">in this small country</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">at the edge</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">of the world".</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii3Afja4kKWULuCchUA1Z0CW39TgLk_o6HLpVQ9hux6EP_6ZqxMOE44jRXtaBnrHMXzh8Leb8veaUbc3M690MUcS09nr_OEuaY8XOa8itBMxKlpKUVcWXUkWQo40M3zHSO5NHkGbp6NDo/s1280/P1180152.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii3Afja4kKWULuCchUA1Z0CW39TgLk_o6HLpVQ9hux6EP_6ZqxMOE44jRXtaBnrHMXzh8Leb8veaUbc3M690MUcS09nr_OEuaY8XOa8itBMxKlpKUVcWXUkWQo40M3zHSO5NHkGbp6NDo/w480-h640/P1180152.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In this place we rested deeply...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifjoJIIik_Xc4Fzm88Bm8r5XyY43qY8oxfhmWQ5_G74Ey75nxTSYwe2bQqMHys700e8ZMyBL3oJDkIvDhlsxd5KLuzSlQGF3EP71q6QrmMdGmUkk2d71EhtnlpKhGMUxMffATUeCDzuAg/s1280/P1180310.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifjoJIIik_Xc4Fzm88Bm8r5XyY43qY8oxfhmWQ5_G74Ey75nxTSYwe2bQqMHys700e8ZMyBL3oJDkIvDhlsxd5KLuzSlQGF3EP71q6QrmMdGmUkk2d71EhtnlpKhGMUxMffATUeCDzuAg/w480-h640/P1180310.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>we also recognised that no renewing of vows or other witness was required to honour this milestone in our lives. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoQdLEx9_WHzxqZgBJe8Dq8-B_udHWZ4UW-NrUEvquC7x68Xc9hxq6BIfJZGihbeTBB5_FBZD-lQT-1V9l649JCzc74Uhe_BgKMS125ZiKXrX6PBTnkqFdNUdZDgLEG3AEqd2jRyRqUAw/s1280/P1180339.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="959" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoQdLEx9_WHzxqZgBJe8Dq8-B_udHWZ4UW-NrUEvquC7x68Xc9hxq6BIfJZGihbeTBB5_FBZD-lQT-1V9l649JCzc74Uhe_BgKMS125ZiKXrX6PBTnkqFdNUdZDgLEG3AEqd2jRyRqUAw/w480-h640/P1180339.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We were befriended by a timid little recently re-homed family of Indian runner ducks. Fancy that- the exact same variety of duck that graces the cover of the magazine!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtoddt3Gvmyks61C93keB5y1KooZUerOKFBhMF3bGTKwPe2tdZtlNh5xDqnX_EN0fMAIeFQbGRTDkAQZcVk44OTk-kkUwvdABVVhDR2qc7YzS406EUEvlb7L6WV-CnO5IDVWuJAkib2jc/s1280/P1180352.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtoddt3Gvmyks61C93keB5y1KooZUerOKFBhMF3bGTKwPe2tdZtlNh5xDqnX_EN0fMAIeFQbGRTDkAQZcVk44OTk-kkUwvdABVVhDR2qc7YzS406EUEvlb7L6WV-CnO5IDVWuJAkib2jc/w480-h640/P1180352.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>They were just adorable. They toddled off at night to their duck house and we shut them in to keep them safe. And in the morning....out they came again.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEilUWMSIf1kiRA1tk0BuNaP14AtZspjh-TMyBxWBaHzZWcz0FnXorsZ_kL7z1t4Hi93sbEyKtyCDIi3enIPRAycfCbl-QaG1SmEOvcShzIE6Ozl-stwQWUZl43CvcImh28nGnISED614/s1280/P1180359.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1235" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEilUWMSIf1kiRA1tk0BuNaP14AtZspjh-TMyBxWBaHzZWcz0FnXorsZ_kL7z1t4Hi93sbEyKtyCDIi3enIPRAycfCbl-QaG1SmEOvcShzIE6Ozl-stwQWUZl43CvcImh28nGnISED614/w618-h640/P1180359.jpg" width="618" /></a></div>This is old family land with glorious Hawke's Bay vistas.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGJ4eah360Rd8y18rfS-lNL9l2B1ObtQbbZvtfL0LpLu50RcovfFd4I9ZH3URvCSRBEdckGsU7mkNdQi_aZKltirKhDOFJMuOpmrjyfXaZGauhXIPxqu4ilRWMMhvNw2Jb9IClVF2vU8Y/s1280/P1180278.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGJ4eah360Rd8y18rfS-lNL9l2B1ObtQbbZvtfL0LpLu50RcovfFd4I9ZH3URvCSRBEdckGsU7mkNdQi_aZKltirKhDOFJMuOpmrjyfXaZGauhXIPxqu4ilRWMMhvNw2Jb9IClVF2vU8Y/w480-h640/P1180278.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And a gone tree or two.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsh6sj6717sfr16p3mv4c1WgOu42n1pqTC6WRNPO4Yt1UXc2-PUXJRcbqQxbvIP1QtAhzbXlshd9FRSqhoMqo5JozoQCFBycDeVc3aX6tpYfz8PaRckPoABBV8TnRsXyncLpL4bIl81wA/s1280/P1180203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsh6sj6717sfr16p3mv4c1WgOu42n1pqTC6WRNPO4Yt1UXc2-PUXJRcbqQxbvIP1QtAhzbXlshd9FRSqhoMqo5JozoQCFBycDeVc3aX6tpYfz8PaRckPoABBV8TnRsXyncLpL4bIl81wA/w480-h640/P1180203.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>One of our favourite songs of this year is by Xavier Judd and it's called <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pd3mkA-wwp8" rel="nofollow">True Love. </a>The words are deeply meaningful to us, but the funny thing is, that all these months we've heard the words as: <p></p><p>"You and me under these old gone trees, hand and hand, forever we will be"</p><p>But of course they're actually not gone trees but gum trees. </p><p>40 years is a long time. But you can't feel the longness of it. For 40 years we've carried the shame of the judgements, criticisms and vicious undermining of our marriage by both of our families and by various pastors. </p><p>Several weeks ago I felt that we were to renounce the agreements that others had made to support and uphold our marriage way back in 1980, because they didn't mean it, and instead did everything they could to see us fail. So- we didn't get the words wrong- our message in this time is that we do indeed finally sit hand in hand under these old GONE trees.They are dead to us. Can you see the petrified creature in the middle of this tree? They gave our marriage 6 months and to this day, not one of them can say a good word about our love. <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZMKabWXurtrTzYD5NiMJn82hRHkvxlw1r8-EWKTKI9VGDxtPRl6uw2ZnVQSVR0tQ0B13T480zd8kKY01gxVLXQkJipUjc2D4kt4SWAMwHfOlHinB8Sz1u9igWC3HlyWEXi_IXaSx3N38/s1280/P1180204.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZMKabWXurtrTzYD5NiMJn82hRHkvxlw1r8-EWKTKI9VGDxtPRl6uw2ZnVQSVR0tQ0B13T480zd8kKY01gxVLXQkJipUjc2D4kt4SWAMwHfOlHinB8Sz1u9igWC3HlyWEXi_IXaSx3N38/w480-h640/P1180204.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So to Tiger House we came, on our own, to honour our own vows and celebrate the remarkable gift that we have been given.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt8uNF0w0WMGaO29gMJktRRW7m-_jejaMd0NDX_Ub3G84Dhy_FjE6w-JEGAauBAI-EtW9RzUvDr3_Mc0UpROjjWSeCDfW_k5YIeflPzDRRZpOLHEBMH836chKYvmecfWQ-b_GwXKwYVSc/s1280/P1180279.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt8uNF0w0WMGaO29gMJktRRW7m-_jejaMd0NDX_Ub3G84Dhy_FjE6w-JEGAauBAI-EtW9RzUvDr3_Mc0UpROjjWSeCDfW_k5YIeflPzDRRZpOLHEBMH836chKYvmecfWQ-b_GwXKwYVSc/w640-h480/P1180279.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Quirky and fun and a whole lot bohemian.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguhbYur-Sbw5m1bJwcAFyzKL_0npPEm9ggu3Z6sFX2PDfG4LlNZZ3p0-shWtlTKnRFyg4B5ovp8UTc6yHoARsrEUpoNS_Blvg9e_ZlP818L3z05U4EMN6AEpWJq2hi-m4K3oL2C4UBCUE/s1280/P1180368.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguhbYur-Sbw5m1bJwcAFyzKL_0npPEm9ggu3Z6sFX2PDfG4LlNZZ3p0-shWtlTKnRFyg4B5ovp8UTc6yHoARsrEUpoNS_Blvg9e_ZlP818L3z05U4EMN6AEpWJq2hi-m4K3oL2C4UBCUE/w640-h480/P1180368.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnz178wWl0N0w7mXzcwEsrouAv_Ge8TmrIFPPnqercgdNKbFxIaS5_auz5Xhqw_fiEsPZsXLx3YDSUPaT_eD5QaTsxubTQzcgZjwAx_ITZ70U9Nv8glQh37eX0QJLMtmvKLvXPmLB3MUo/s1280/P1180274.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnz178wWl0N0w7mXzcwEsrouAv_Ge8TmrIFPPnqercgdNKbFxIaS5_auz5Xhqw_fiEsPZsXLx3YDSUPaT_eD5QaTsxubTQzcgZjwAx_ITZ70U9Nv8glQh37eX0QJLMtmvKLvXPmLB3MUo/w640-h480/P1180274.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>The bird life around Tiger House- rich and glorious.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiavJg2UfzBigEDeXc3g2ZmoOYbeWOcIS5jZ2ziq9YqVur3XzmhAw0niO-iXwksDJ9peKxRiJS6E2l9jFlGvB884Lun1jGjy76znnlEBxgVdvBMpEBC88q2hil-Zv9WuF6CgxLRdzdJkO4/s1280/P1180365+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiavJg2UfzBigEDeXc3g2ZmoOYbeWOcIS5jZ2ziq9YqVur3XzmhAw0niO-iXwksDJ9peKxRiJS6E2l9jFlGvB884Lun1jGjy76znnlEBxgVdvBMpEBC88q2hil-Zv9WuF6CgxLRdzdJkO4/w480-h640/P1180365+%25281%2529.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>Arapata homestead was built in 1910. She's, a grand old lady. You can read a little of the history of this land and the family who live here just <a href="https://www.arapata.co.nz/history/">here.</a><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk38C6OQ56n7pkSQresua53gbmxeYM7elM3jCI4PfYBVLLzasd9M4hVdNuHPuMrCIERbvU6qiggmxVVLLMH7QFBSDR7D1rIk2BBW1zEuFLG_NeuUFys4Xr_XObHVSAAAK02dUllvdxWUU/s1280/P1180211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk38C6OQ56n7pkSQresua53gbmxeYM7elM3jCI4PfYBVLLzasd9M4hVdNuHPuMrCIERbvU6qiggmxVVLLMH7QFBSDR7D1rIk2BBW1zEuFLG_NeuUFys4Xr_XObHVSAAAK02dUllvdxWUU/w480-h640/P1180211.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The retired pool</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxYpmrMxnA90GWqPzP_zfgUhd3Bqt1GbgNqOzizF9qAxgtwtNM8tShyphenhyphendIS5WwHmEbCjhOWv0aiY9St9-XEM6W_yqOk0ZGr1UPXfKYFDGA4xgmOSvLeZ5VQPc-rVaMMI654QR0gOazYGB0/s1280/P1180247+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxYpmrMxnA90GWqPzP_zfgUhd3Bqt1GbgNqOzizF9qAxgtwtNM8tShyphenhyphendIS5WwHmEbCjhOWv0aiY9St9-XEM6W_yqOk0ZGr1UPXfKYFDGA4xgmOSvLeZ5VQPc-rVaMMI654QR0gOazYGB0/w640-h480/P1180247+%25281%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>This iconic avenue of plane trees- timeless, sweeping grace.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Fd5TJA-4m4YguHVbC-uZ6B69Tjrprmg6rycsjTUXrrsff639KdSvK-fKGbLqYD07qqO5r57IeW5PvJSCEw4OcMDdZVccnyEEH9wDNAPrdxysgPZ-BaLuPk5I8DCyII4CEGsJrOGuLRk/s1280/P1180242.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Fd5TJA-4m4YguHVbC-uZ6B69Tjrprmg6rycsjTUXrrsff639KdSvK-fKGbLqYD07qqO5r57IeW5PvJSCEw4OcMDdZVccnyEEH9wDNAPrdxysgPZ-BaLuPk5I8DCyII4CEGsJrOGuLRk/w640-h480/P1180242.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>A delight to walk down through the property to Birdwoods gallery just across the road.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb3ImPw8nV0_w54jsnlGkhqTV_1Bslpf_UjOwJduXQeK3kuqfLbBQsM_vRfaACFjTcHWV0TCMB-Xay6ca5rVVI988iqcYVVu9T3_HhHMTOtnMuRFzUwqPJ7T2heC7svZwu8g2_EtgRwcU/s1280/Arapata+driveway.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb3ImPw8nV0_w54jsnlGkhqTV_1Bslpf_UjOwJduXQeK3kuqfLbBQsM_vRfaACFjTcHWV0TCMB-Xay6ca5rVVI988iqcYVVu9T3_HhHMTOtnMuRFzUwqPJ7T2heC7svZwu8g2_EtgRwcU/w480-h640/Arapata+driveway.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And a long the way we were gently reminded to breathe and fully experience our adventure.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRkFBX945MF1-bmCGmmDe_0CkAEtW7IkOQ7Ctv1jxMubQjSORCKV-rmJcfM_SXof4_z7EW1lsulDKKM5ZOTLvRM7Ffxu9KyediuiHQ6xZ6t75-TnYPA1kkTBwKFBccmnoHfBZtoZZ1M6Q/s1280/P1180451.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRkFBX945MF1-bmCGmmDe_0CkAEtW7IkOQ7Ctv1jxMubQjSORCKV-rmJcfM_SXof4_z7EW1lsulDKKM5ZOTLvRM7Ffxu9KyediuiHQ6xZ6t75-TnYPA1kkTBwKFBccmnoHfBZtoZZ1M6Q/w480-h640/P1180451.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The unique <a href="https://birdwoods.co.nz" rel="nofollow">Birdwoods Gallery</a> is a special place...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: Cabin, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: Cabin, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">"Opened in 2005 by Bruce and Louise Stobart, the Gallery's home is the original church hall from St Peter's in Waipawa built in 1894.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: Cabin, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: #111111; font-family: Cabin, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Come and discover hidden treasures in our beautifully refreshed Gallery, spoil yourself and loved ones indulge in a morning or afternoon tea. Stay for lunch, enjoy a coffee, wander our gorgeous gardens, say hallo to the Grannies in the Sweet Shop, feel good about life and yourself again and we will look after you safely."</span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyZjz98TQ-kyzN1wPkF-kdm-5wAFezzVhR8bpCdISBDHVSp_oB6hOjFyLhM3ygeTY4YeKqPAACS4RONQ-of40wBqWEehyphenhyphenXBWSPt8B7TTkiszqxr6y65URYMu1Ye1yGU1e5NankWxnMZ3k/s1280/P1180232.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyZjz98TQ-kyzN1wPkF-kdm-5wAFezzVhR8bpCdISBDHVSp_oB6hOjFyLhM3ygeTY4YeKqPAACS4RONQ-of40wBqWEehyphenhyphenXBWSPt8B7TTkiszqxr6y65URYMu1Ye1yGU1e5NankWxnMZ3k/w480-h640/P1180232.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It's a very long time ago that we first watched the movie Out of Africa and the experience opened up something of the past for Rob- his memories of Nairobi and the seven years that he lived there with his family.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAL6qBGKoZdb2XUg6d9NodYSWmouIAr0is3a_29iRq3PEsYuQdFVgaq0G6ywGg34nMbPAFrKg8ynXFxJGUbhkafAWaqTG4MPgtmK-bWCdzNyrd8u1EkafFLRPXatkxet0nKRjXwNLfBsI/s1280/P1180225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAL6qBGKoZdb2XUg6d9NodYSWmouIAr0is3a_29iRq3PEsYuQdFVgaq0G6ywGg34nMbPAFrKg8ynXFxJGUbhkafAWaqTG4MPgtmK-bWCdzNyrd8u1EkafFLRPXatkxet0nKRjXwNLfBsI/w480-h640/P1180225.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgArfl0IL0WlX9ZEjffFpifCfp2iYxkOfzytd9wn-Acacaqqw4fEeLLHuo9wYE3agl5qL22qDFm9H-guJQmJPnzUBLonVZIcAFMs5t-G_vDnagT0QdRduCvMcPLq0ucGw1TWYRi-o5EiLw/s1280/P1180235.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgArfl0IL0WlX9ZEjffFpifCfp2iYxkOfzytd9wn-Acacaqqw4fEeLLHuo9wYE3agl5qL22qDFm9H-guJQmJPnzUBLonVZIcAFMs5t-G_vDnagT0QdRduCvMcPLq0ucGw1TWYRi-o5EiLw/w640-h480/P1180235.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I love that this detail was dovetailed in to our adventure.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIeJzPdALL79JciHvcYnX962lk8FETrAC3Y_EDupl0IRRfjEgW4GMmsXbTgSPHD5b4Ya_aQ1djOfFOi1g_ebBogFJzkc0D3sCb5CElfykBlBufSSEN9QteP7x43eRkSLXvFw75ZOcsIBg/s1280/P1180238.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIeJzPdALL79JciHvcYnX962lk8FETrAC3Y_EDupl0IRRfjEgW4GMmsXbTgSPHD5b4Ya_aQ1djOfFOi1g_ebBogFJzkc0D3sCb5CElfykBlBufSSEN9QteP7x43eRkSLXvFw75ZOcsIBg/w480-h640/P1180238.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj74hBmOChyphenhyphen-exWlCC3XGesp0D3XIyO-clj3k86UxVr093yKdUfagYcX2HKCsxfUS-Kl34U3m98l-x9U2pYlG6jOXjgl_e3zC26cu-utZejO2R-JNUVSb5jLIkWIkOQe89b36IoCjoRvc4/s1280/P1180431.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj74hBmOChyphenhyphen-exWlCC3XGesp0D3XIyO-clj3k86UxVr093yKdUfagYcX2HKCsxfUS-Kl34U3m98l-x9U2pYlG6jOXjgl_e3zC26cu-utZejO2R-JNUVSb5jLIkWIkOQe89b36IoCjoRvc4/w480-h640/P1180431.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0bqlzEg57l_ctaRhukSURpfahqzCwu7ESXDiZAr4wB56TWmxUt3LQzDbFWWh07kTB_xnBefqau4Cv2VAUoCMXTVJwqQpEIZPbyD4cE3RifuoXIVeUg5qAZYKDl3l1l1lb9HxSGTeEn5A/s1280/P1180429.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0bqlzEg57l_ctaRhukSURpfahqzCwu7ESXDiZAr4wB56TWmxUt3LQzDbFWWh07kTB_xnBefqau4Cv2VAUoCMXTVJwqQpEIZPbyD4cE3RifuoXIVeUg5qAZYKDl3l1l1lb9HxSGTeEn5A/w480-h640/P1180429.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVpzjOVoLTnli9bIw2AqS6-HnP8r5yh2XJjrxNOV3mWJrIJcwUprWGbd8wBrH8tw5TPAztCJHpSe_C2gbUnwdkHr5oZOcIo46sgbYykb3dUaCMGbNAhyBF8vZ8kufZURiSBJDrl8UGzVM/s1280/P1180222.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVpzjOVoLTnli9bIw2AqS6-HnP8r5yh2XJjrxNOV3mWJrIJcwUprWGbd8wBrH8tw5TPAztCJHpSe_C2gbUnwdkHr5oZOcIo46sgbYykb3dUaCMGbNAhyBF8vZ8kufZURiSBJDrl8UGzVM/w480-h640/P1180222.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxNQmSjmgnsCx-ngoJnSbS1YQfve4RoOIo6IBKI1UEGje5Xvv0MgANPHSSAJYQp9wpwiMlZOSVhiInFKD1xSEVZCw9dDKS8ZttCU07HIzpDCw3HJkDRB5wHxTJRPexUjEE4lEECXIWIOE/s1280/P1180229.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxNQmSjmgnsCx-ngoJnSbS1YQfve4RoOIo6IBKI1UEGje5Xvv0MgANPHSSAJYQp9wpwiMlZOSVhiInFKD1xSEVZCw9dDKS8ZttCU07HIzpDCw3HJkDRB5wHxTJRPexUjEE4lEECXIWIOE/w480-h640/P1180229.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>An unusual and generous gesture to open up gardens around a cafe- a perfect place to display garden sculpture, of various kinds.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFffKJlWxAJmVNLUTBDSNrDlaxxUiSel3o2Bj19RTcW1uMtH8xX7qJv6QMBHbF3c3BjkGtyL1h0WiextKll920DgnH8yD3zxMeoe67plvCsW6RclbfZjc1sP8dS57exS5RSgcRxVK8b94/s1280/P1180432.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFffKJlWxAJmVNLUTBDSNrDlaxxUiSel3o2Bj19RTcW1uMtH8xX7qJv6QMBHbF3c3BjkGtyL1h0WiextKll920DgnH8yD3zxMeoe67plvCsW6RclbfZjc1sP8dS57exS5RSgcRxVK8b94/w480-h640/P1180432.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj8jQlL0LSwDjiuTzDddCbr4YlaqjXLti_d342BnKBxWP8p2bZiBhVY3SNTyUlM010WA36l88sB2EYQiPhi0rj8ZEu-t8BIfddKt0rMub8o7_9O6pE5u7FsEqKzJjRh-VqiHaSe8n5lOk/s1280/P1180441.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj8jQlL0LSwDjiuTzDddCbr4YlaqjXLti_d342BnKBxWP8p2bZiBhVY3SNTyUlM010WA36l88sB2EYQiPhi0rj8ZEu-t8BIfddKt0rMub8o7_9O6pE5u7FsEqKzJjRh-VqiHaSe8n5lOk/w480-h640/P1180441.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjuAzpHmb3oGtop5SNXygW4mQT4a4nM-9K9otf5aLd6NRw9T7fQnIw6fH2rGRntTMkmJpbfEIGXF2t84p1RcCMLGc0Lhyuudn07fOj9Gd3oqsCHQ6RJDWyZ6IQz4nmLn5BVK8utnNVWlA/s1280/P1180442.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjuAzpHmb3oGtop5SNXygW4mQT4a4nM-9K9otf5aLd6NRw9T7fQnIw6fH2rGRntTMkmJpbfEIGXF2t84p1RcCMLGc0Lhyuudn07fOj9Gd3oqsCHQ6RJDWyZ6IQz4nmLn5BVK8utnNVWlA/w640-h480/P1180442.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We walked up Te Mata Peak, up Chamber's Walk and through the little Redwoods</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOFfWSm7AQpIYUF99mzrY5JW8lqo8wCmEFwi_EF3sYlXrvtt220HvzD2Cz0NTuJOGl_shdU15CMhEv56IYD7OaZD2GAcmvvdcUvw7xp3vyGcFVwWeWL_GhUXRY74F7rTc4-DUkCCK9dzI/s1280/P1180417.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOFfWSm7AQpIYUF99mzrY5JW8lqo8wCmEFwi_EF3sYlXrvtt220HvzD2Cz0NTuJOGl_shdU15CMhEv56IYD7OaZD2GAcmvvdcUvw7xp3vyGcFVwWeWL_GhUXRY74F7rTc4-DUkCCK9dzI/w480-h640/P1180417.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and spotted a King Fisher on our journey.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3_VqxEmrzb53WhXhNClUOHjU_FpuqshHTE6IbaAskRon6eLdogglxg9QWkcWtepkxlWIkhhg_cmBF4HrfrqvOiz9JrrWqEKXfagCeT_zzNLmkUfl2XolbndI2h9blpcG5R5LFRvagQbo/s1280/P1180395.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="974" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3_VqxEmrzb53WhXhNClUOHjU_FpuqshHTE6IbaAskRon6eLdogglxg9QWkcWtepkxlWIkhhg_cmBF4HrfrqvOiz9JrrWqEKXfagCeT_zzNLmkUfl2XolbndI2h9blpcG5R5LFRvagQbo/w488-h640/P1180395.jpg" width="488" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A few months ago in chatting with a friend, he mentioned the little chapel in Tanner street. Even though I grew up in Havelock North I'd never heard of it before so we set about finding it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2CaBuf6LroS5PLhRqYJKs1ZkeK9zK2hTJq9-lpxuloybdON7zerwTL0DMf56v5X88CSzrBR9Y-MhD9lvzEvNug8g8djjdCwyup05nE9nQUyiMpvwoYmbYaWx3AWuxqfb86HcfyuS2jWQ/s1280/P1180411.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2CaBuf6LroS5PLhRqYJKs1ZkeK9zK2hTJq9-lpxuloybdON7zerwTL0DMf56v5X88CSzrBR9Y-MhD9lvzEvNug8g8djjdCwyup05nE9nQUyiMpvwoYmbYaWx3AWuxqfb86HcfyuS2jWQ/w480-h640/P1180411.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>And here it was, all this time, just down a driveway.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimSNRWpRy7CipsVeoTdBaj4vzMCoRbhDSLKPMl4TJk3bgE1Ju03_AUbsUI47ua3UWUdnXcG3znnB1_3p0pPXBcYqj6jyRwrgnIrJgv4wq2vN7a2OX8suvA9rpleusAQ8pz2B6M7oTRy00/s1280/P1180410.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimSNRWpRy7CipsVeoTdBaj4vzMCoRbhDSLKPMl4TJk3bgE1Ju03_AUbsUI47ua3UWUdnXcG3znnB1_3p0pPXBcYqj6jyRwrgnIrJgv4wq2vN7a2OX8suvA9rpleusAQ8pz2B6M7oTRy00/w480-h640/P1180410.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>A certain mystery surrounds this little chapel...<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL2WDj1YSF1rjsP16Ik8M1skORbTO6HOnsjcJDbQqyfgSX1J0eRaDbScL5SBMt8q4TfOVmOM1PYk76LN_z7JZezUz_K9AbupX3SAjPXpLYgvVCJDrYtUnESk8ZZxrLezTs95nkuyhPjt0/s1280/P1180404.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL2WDj1YSF1rjsP16Ik8M1skORbTO6HOnsjcJDbQqyfgSX1J0eRaDbScL5SBMt8q4TfOVmOM1PYk76LN_z7JZezUz_K9AbupX3SAjPXpLYgvVCJDrYtUnESk8ZZxrLezTs95nkuyhPjt0/w480-h640/P1180404.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>although it's not surprising as Havelock North was founded on the quirky and fringe.<p></p><p>In fact, Where Ra another house of great mystery, can be found just up the road & round the corner.</p><div class="kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15.9375px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin: 0px; orphans: 2; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">"In Havelock North in 1908 a circle of prominent local personalities known as the Havelock Work was established. They published a monthly literary magazine called 'The Forerunner' and held regular cultural gatherings. Whare Ra was built on land donated by Mason Chambers, one of a group of these Havelock intellectuals who were searching for enlightenment through a Christian based, esoteric form of teaching. To aid their search Dr R W Felkin (1853-1926) and his family were brought out from England.</div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15.9375px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; orphans: 2; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Felkin had been a missionary and explorer in Africa. He was the first European to visit all the Great Lakes of Central Africa and return alive and the first to measure the pygmies of the Congo. He became an expert on tropical diseases, writing several books and lecturing extensively on the subject. His wide interests tended toward the supernatural and included astrology, theosophy and Rosicrucianism. He had been the chief of the London temple of a secret spiritual society known as the Stella Matutina Hermetic Order and had come out to provide instruction in its beliefs and rituals, at first for a few months in 1913 and again in 1916 when he settled permanently.</div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15.9375px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; orphans: 2; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">The house was purpose built to both house the Felkin family and as a lodge which was to be the New Zealand Headquarters of the order. The lodge was named Smaragdum Thalasses and teaching was conducted in the basement temple. From the 1916 addition Dr Felkin also ran a successful practice as Havelock North's first medical doctor.</div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15.9375px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; orphans: 2; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-decoration-thickness: initial; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Although Dr Felkin died in 1926 his work in the order was carried on by his wife Harriot and daughter Ethelwyn who were also chiefs in Stella Matutina. They continued to live in the house until the death of Ethelwyn in 1962, Harriot having already died in 1959. The building was later administered as a Trust until the order was finally wound up in 1978."</div></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So it is unsurprising that there should be a random little triangular chapel lurking in the bushes near by.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTLzGwhcIi9RQw746LhGMZT9EmrmKbUY-OtmivdGJd7G4zwECOwtgbM4FIaWPlHDz_ndW2-61yjHvH4plxl4LEh9P5WAF3g9qtqjCZvJ9y3k6farq_Bv3nXYVgBLJ1ktvfyVNRoiK5JHY/s1280/P1180405.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTLzGwhcIi9RQw746LhGMZT9EmrmKbUY-OtmivdGJd7G4zwECOwtgbM4FIaWPlHDz_ndW2-61yjHvH4plxl4LEh9P5WAF3g9qtqjCZvJ9y3k6farq_Bv3nXYVgBLJ1ktvfyVNRoiK5JHY/w480-h640/P1180405.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>A tiny room. The door is always open<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNI4Is4ghKufgoVq2tojezfYiA0DSCuCxNkAKrv8IUkMUC-VWWCYDfUMaUaxeisnMQsy-QyaeX19bYCrvcP36Es5URclLPe7Sdrmqf9yXuVeRKtjsJQz3K3luXj1nBbTKsPkdhtivz6B4/s1280/P1180399.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNI4Is4ghKufgoVq2tojezfYiA0DSCuCxNkAKrv8IUkMUC-VWWCYDfUMaUaxeisnMQsy-QyaeX19bYCrvcP36Es5URclLPe7Sdrmqf9yXuVeRKtjsJQz3K3luXj1nBbTKsPkdhtivz6B4/w480-h640/P1180399.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>and was built here by a mysterious Chivalric Society<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqPojWQIBvx0zOlUYdnQ7kumSNuvQwHS2cX3Ky8w4P2Pc-f1Ii_F6jFHq4UDItsbmN0c_OpPO71MkYYkIsOeK67yltMykCzt8YG5SrLa8e0LwtECJtAF33pc3NOePRF1H-eYSbLbswe7k/s1280/P1180401.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqPojWQIBvx0zOlUYdnQ7kumSNuvQwHS2cX3Ky8w4P2Pc-f1Ii_F6jFHq4UDItsbmN0c_OpPO71MkYYkIsOeK67yltMykCzt8YG5SrLa8e0LwtECJtAF33pc3NOePRF1H-eYSbLbswe7k/w480-h640/P1180401.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>It wasn't until we'd lit our candles and replaced the flowers that we read the bit on the wall and found that you're supposed to sit in silence, but nobody seemed to mind.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvoYO_udF6HQzRqH6J26p0t3N5EyBh1gwZxDMA-Jn_JP7xyGyVDUcqaPel1ynC1AwNGNE0rRuQctY0i2hPMtD_uhyphenhyphentMFdATDanoVTU-guFWNTrB5sIAir6KEnDPJ3i0fJTrtX7_rBCYR8/s1280/P1180407.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvoYO_udF6HQzRqH6J26p0t3N5EyBh1gwZxDMA-Jn_JP7xyGyVDUcqaPel1ynC1AwNGNE0rRuQctY0i2hPMtD_uhyphenhyphentMFdATDanoVTU-guFWNTrB5sIAir6KEnDPJ3i0fJTrtX7_rBCYR8/w480-h640/P1180407.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>A chair in each corner and a little alter in the other one.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikpdOX1ibxNmc2F5AXRGKry3yL8pUiGb2eizHntuQ_WZ2WrNgj1gwO9qMplEcZ8ZNLjWLhjcri_ZdpWj8_BcsRlxcycQb9w8IxvFbG-golyyUcf_866qJRwhGxY7PvlnJ94wUqz_fLUZA/s1280/P1180403.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikpdOX1ibxNmc2F5AXRGKry3yL8pUiGb2eizHntuQ_WZ2WrNgj1gwO9qMplEcZ8ZNLjWLhjcri_ZdpWj8_BcsRlxcycQb9w8IxvFbG-golyyUcf_866qJRwhGxY7PvlnJ94wUqz_fLUZA/w480-h640/P1180403.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>We wandered up the road in the reserve before we visited and picked some wild flowers- honeysuckle, hedge woundwort, wild sweet peas, self heal and jasmine,<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6oN2bRx_dIlDDWTGHnjj4zb8UUfywk_DOPPP1KoQWvgWiU5-n_LhSSeETTmwbGKlcDBR0NwM1mxDth7elnychuV3sWeJSe-zF5iDbzViEf8bRGoGS6G3zmx4P7EiB5kR0ZCpcyW6vVKI/s1280/P1180397.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6oN2bRx_dIlDDWTGHnjj4zb8UUfywk_DOPPP1KoQWvgWiU5-n_LhSSeETTmwbGKlcDBR0NwM1mxDth7elnychuV3sWeJSe-zF5iDbzViEf8bRGoGS6G3zmx4P7EiB5kR0ZCpcyW6vVKI/w480-h640/P1180397.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2iD5TUHokn5j0TfmFtFg4CCqup1gFHfkpIWE01SXnWb0xKPZczT15rK-wyQgaj1xxBIKZhFQvb0Oa7Nbtl-H_3MFjs0OdpZ_Two-peRnOIbXyh-CIRKSPwxUPwGPg-mjnviYyNTPAMQg/s1280/P1180398.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2iD5TUHokn5j0TfmFtFg4CCqup1gFHfkpIWE01SXnWb0xKPZczT15rK-wyQgaj1xxBIKZhFQvb0Oa7Nbtl-H_3MFjs0OdpZ_Two-peRnOIbXyh-CIRKSPwxUPwGPg-mjnviYyNTPAMQg/w640-h480/P1180398.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>It was here in this unexpected place we found ourselves held- do you know that term "holding space", well that's what this little chapel does. Hand and hand together you and me.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOTQ3i94QZRl5vYtlY-sDDISgvMOXW2ompjtPp-5xU45pDPkck0PfnKghlHiVupQWXgmx6H6vEQN4_tvVXQbTDg9KL9uIgxMTbcXCEn2ZhHqdhCypIFpLYXtZ2kOEDTOl4I5VRx7XsGiQ/s1280/P1180408.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOTQ3i94QZRl5vYtlY-sDDISgvMOXW2ompjtPp-5xU45pDPkck0PfnKghlHiVupQWXgmx6H6vEQN4_tvVXQbTDg9KL9uIgxMTbcXCEn2ZhHqdhCypIFpLYXtZ2kOEDTOl4I5VRx7XsGiQ/w480-h640/P1180408.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">People talk a great deal these days about healing and even growing. It's all good and necessary. Sometimes though I think we try too hard, set out disciplines and regimes attempting to beat ourselves in to new shapes. Quite often in the forcing, we fail. The more that we have allowed the plants to speak to us, to present themselves, the more that we know them and include them in our every day lives, the more that we find ourselves supported, strengthened, healed- in the gentlest of ways. Under the washing line at Tiger House I discovered yet another wild plant that I have never come across before. It smells like a dead nettle but it's not the dead nettle I know. Perhaps it's a message that goes with the Old Gone Trees.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP5VWH8oUi_DK9t0x5KXBV4atP8WSQ3I1rT9pedqL5yKHDQ3ZDnLRAuHyLJF6IGLMlHOp0MMJA7qPpqsFYzbDov1A-Cxc4k-vDTDGXJu1OchAdatPyhg_Uq04NBExPi7jDUGhp8fbDPRw/s1280/P1180453.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP5VWH8oUi_DK9t0x5KXBV4atP8WSQ3I1rT9pedqL5yKHDQ3ZDnLRAuHyLJF6IGLMlHOp0MMJA7qPpqsFYzbDov1A-Cxc4k-vDTDGXJu1OchAdatPyhg_Uq04NBExPi7jDUGhp8fbDPRw/w480-h640/P1180453.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Night, night little ducks.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC5grPsaPzztUDsbS4FsXpnDkUznCJmc2X9WlNMl7fsfomhU5pimrmzG7eJPLZsoNByUboIYuKS7D0itRylCpSzsfyVvH0CRVWUzwitPPBzE6fWOcCJ_Pc5Im4SbYe5LpedCpm2-sVdNs/s1280/P1180488.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC5grPsaPzztUDsbS4FsXpnDkUznCJmc2X9WlNMl7fsfomhU5pimrmzG7eJPLZsoNByUboIYuKS7D0itRylCpSzsfyVvH0CRVWUzwitPPBzE6fWOcCJ_Pc5Im4SbYe5LpedCpm2-sVdNs/w480-h640/P1180488.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">No tv, just books and music and a fire to light</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3j24noQNHu92sQZg06779zbj9QIgWR-DcZ_Al9zjUtE2H3oO-VvWanqJaTSiB-aO8VjhY65iAzvqVeqRfPv96INu30sVTshfaG9RAWrxt8oL7H8uT_qlUuWS_PHcFtx1uVPq6hAdWiV4/s1280/P1180491.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3j24noQNHu92sQZg06779zbj9QIgWR-DcZ_Al9zjUtE2H3oO-VvWanqJaTSiB-aO8VjhY65iAzvqVeqRfPv96INu30sVTshfaG9RAWrxt8oL7H8uT_qlUuWS_PHcFtx1uVPq6hAdWiV4/w480-h640/P1180491.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and a bath to soak in while listening to the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZyLxi3o4tFQ" rel="nofollow">Morepork (Ruru)</a>- out there wide awake in a tree in the dark.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijjieSHIizwficsDpa12ivHEqu2OW_qmQLYX8Ut564DE-qIhylfWAhh76B9PzOEdUVFp8EYIphmCjk97dU0dhJRh0ZVdXqqrYY9jH037EVbQvuECfFCvNsuCaxYsJqo2ZczXHiiom5ujM/s1280/Tiger+House+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijjieSHIizwficsDpa12ivHEqu2OW_qmQLYX8Ut564DE-qIhylfWAhh76B9PzOEdUVFp8EYIphmCjk97dU0dhJRh0ZVdXqqrYY9jH037EVbQvuECfFCvNsuCaxYsJqo2ZczXHiiom5ujM/w640-h480/Tiger+House+%25281%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a>Or sojourn was a step out of time.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We could have happily sat here resting in this land some more- and that's always a good thing.</div></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbi1WpihqDglHBHkLoQbTBq0KFXpee4mQM3i55v43hwU-AMb8HfzpGoGXvZbGva8zwBEemWqYBp1vKajV5PnworuoIYXt5J82RfO2ug8ZziWXfKyVd1gIriep1Qj8emFM3QMcoilK44GY/s1280/P1180468.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbi1WpihqDglHBHkLoQbTBq0KFXpee4mQM3i55v43hwU-AMb8HfzpGoGXvZbGva8zwBEemWqYBp1vKajV5PnworuoIYXt5J82RfO2ug8ZziWXfKyVd1gIriep1Qj8emFM3QMcoilK44GY/w480-h640/P1180468.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">My angel love, the one I've waited for</div><div style="text-align: center;">Whispering to the depths of my soul</div><div style="text-align: center;">This is love</div><div><div style="text-align: center;">This is true love.....</div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRy2pnSZ1XND96T-Yd8E2_tkwk48oXpRbPUT6yKk8aS8dIFRAH7SaOz-GAu5uKUt2SqEjZUdduSurRyUMsYf_wW2ckHbz4YhPya1A-c6B67YtpfET6znJgLPzENVBlKYzZprc6fbHLLqs/s1039/Roses3.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="634" data-original-width="1039" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRy2pnSZ1XND96T-Yd8E2_tkwk48oXpRbPUT6yKk8aS8dIFRAH7SaOz-GAu5uKUt2SqEjZUdduSurRyUMsYf_wW2ckHbz4YhPya1A-c6B67YtpfET6znJgLPzENVBlKYzZprc6fbHLLqs/w400-h244/Roses3.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div></div>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-56548260254890578042020-10-28T20:32:00.011+13:002020-10-30T22:18:56.228+13:00The Coach House<p style="text-align: left;">A week or two ago we went to stay at the Coach House in Napier. <span style="text-align: center;">It was perhaps, the loveliest holiday we've ever had.</span> </p><p style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4PBKEIbcxpfrcQltaB-p_lbfVaiGRNIoxSVu3p-sCHO_Clf22N24_HZrfR-Jcy93gzDJOzKbE2O_nJobQn7evE9mDxfmz1v5Adg2PjldcbdvdEnZ190cJpWsUp0ng_hkuhzYLf_5-NJk/s1280/P1160596+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4PBKEIbcxpfrcQltaB-p_lbfVaiGRNIoxSVu3p-sCHO_Clf22N24_HZrfR-Jcy93gzDJOzKbE2O_nJobQn7evE9mDxfmz1v5Adg2PjldcbdvdEnZ190cJpWsUp0ng_hkuhzYLf_5-NJk/w480-h640/P1160596+%25281%2529.jpg" width="480" /></a></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: center;">Just like this old dwelling, our lives, have so many layers and stories woven through them. </span><span style="text-align: center;">Napier was a profoundly different place back a century ago- the Coach House belonged to the grand home on the hill and housed the horse, the gig and the coach "man".</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju263eMlDF8rNOdgvmGYxn9-Jl1Dqb6uWeZ52wV7gH7oJgs471xXFYO2Je3Pjr0303CKe-IqtrB2pYQRnCyxC7OxuG9RHnyF0tJBdKSN3J1Dzj-9nZaUgY-coGbP22Rp_0zfvZLpJ1zJc/s1280/P1160618.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju263eMlDF8rNOdgvmGYxn9-Jl1Dqb6uWeZ52wV7gH7oJgs471xXFYO2Je3Pjr0303CKe-IqtrB2pYQRnCyxC7OxuG9RHnyF0tJBdKSN3J1Dzj-9nZaUgY-coGbP22Rp_0zfvZLpJ1zJc/w400-h300/P1160618.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Eventually, the whole horse and coach (or gig) carry on slipped in to obsolescence, the land was subdivided, the catastrophic earthquake of 1931 changed history for all of Hawke's Bay and the Coach House eventually slipped in to disuse and disrepair.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZvta-CuBiGYK7fP1jWKb2RqU1nSKw4GNsQHxUCJ12BX7Zejh_SlP0tnCzMqgPHog5Pi9OP7SjsO6Zg9Qr6q_XfEVq-I-rOoFebNc9PLe3AKmlm7FEstp-fT-EINDGtAdfGk4wamlcTVc/s1280/P1160601.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZvta-CuBiGYK7fP1jWKb2RqU1nSKw4GNsQHxUCJ12BX7Zejh_SlP0tnCzMqgPHog5Pi9OP7SjsO6Zg9Qr6q_XfEVq-I-rOoFebNc9PLe3AKmlm7FEstp-fT-EINDGtAdfGk4wamlcTVc/w480-h640/P1160601.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It has now been skillfully renovated and made in to a charming little cottage, sitting within the grounds of Jan's home and cleverly dovetailed in to her Mediterranean garden.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The colours and details are gentle and kind and evoke memories for me of my grandmother Edna- her pastel palette and warm hospitality.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDe_2T64t45V7vNEOdMbKs7cdslwg8XVFBElYR6-oleBAW3wrybwWFjI3yCCeEFq1qW4OLgeW2rkTj0Rqx8137RGymrc_ORfbLmxRfmUeJOq61KnxhpIZcXIcnD0bDXBTPdWanRJmBf8g/s1280/P1160581+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDe_2T64t45V7vNEOdMbKs7cdslwg8XVFBElYR6-oleBAW3wrybwWFjI3yCCeEFq1qW4OLgeW2rkTj0Rqx8137RGymrc_ORfbLmxRfmUeJOq61KnxhpIZcXIcnD0bDXBTPdWanRJmBf8g/w400-h300/P1160581+%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Good old human nature- don't you just want to pull that ladder down because it says "Please do not lower ladder. Private storage only" and climb right up there to see!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM_V76Z246iilMM9BwFp9T4VnF2GuyzXU9UohbvNtHJfGJvRIQo1YDnY4li0m9Mx1R58xW7HzU7Fp_FvOfLO2dFBb00oKkoxbhk_aj0-emJL6C8bY-sQ_xQVsVpGtAOnujhRJSYdwLKiU/s1280/P1160574+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM_V76Z246iilMM9BwFp9T4VnF2GuyzXU9UohbvNtHJfGJvRIQo1YDnY4li0m9Mx1R58xW7HzU7Fp_FvOfLO2dFBb00oKkoxbhk_aj0-emJL6C8bY-sQ_xQVsVpGtAOnujhRJSYdwLKiU/w400-h300/P1160574+%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>A mixture of vintage and contemporary elements <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrSqUT7cl7TsreFbG9RhKqEUQr2NXRRbPYm5ADY0RaYV2QvlCOP0K2ZzHfRgF9DSm84zQg45mFiISdD3I7C-pS0L530DkcG2pz2lxkTZCr6U_-RUY7pZlcYRWzj3f1-rmfL8w_6GOQsHY/s1280/P1160577.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrSqUT7cl7TsreFbG9RhKqEUQr2NXRRbPYm5ADY0RaYV2QvlCOP0K2ZzHfRgF9DSm84zQg45mFiISdD3I7C-pS0L530DkcG2pz2lxkTZCr6U_-RUY7pZlcYRWzj3f1-rmfL8w_6GOQsHY/w400-h300/P1160577.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>are found through-out the cottage.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-My1fDW3UuHHx653yPyTANBtZv-vziPVkivNgXIw7zcN6TmHQ5EvyxPsEQQkaQ7n2cE1c6So8KiQZ2SMr7Wkc4JHwuAhoJx4bWxvNo-AOPgqmmG7eij6cFu67S0WPARokT65uEsW3DxA/s1280/P1160578+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-My1fDW3UuHHx653yPyTANBtZv-vziPVkivNgXIw7zcN6TmHQ5EvyxPsEQQkaQ7n2cE1c6So8KiQZ2SMr7Wkc4JHwuAhoJx4bWxvNo-AOPgqmmG7eij6cFu67S0WPARokT65uEsW3DxA/w480-h640/P1160578+%25281%2529.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>Our own vintage baskets, blankets and tablecloths enhanced our comfort and the charm.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUGnU3d66oT4XIKhsxzoV6Wn_JgPmtyC4y2rs1RiJXkE8u0vzANkRvcKBVSWuY20jXJSNwRjWHd4t_h04J1dhz8UtSFGk0LxOSaUSqrgDJ2h4N3XFtITHWRr_UTqlio8RXC1IOFo4to6k/s1280/P1160583+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUGnU3d66oT4XIKhsxzoV6Wn_JgPmtyC4y2rs1RiJXkE8u0vzANkRvcKBVSWuY20jXJSNwRjWHd4t_h04J1dhz8UtSFGk0LxOSaUSqrgDJ2h4N3XFtITHWRr_UTqlio8RXC1IOFo4to6k/w400-h300/P1160583+%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div> None of us knows quite how our own story will unfold, in fact, it's probably just as well that we have no idea how it's all going too end up!</div><div>We start out thinking that our lives and stories belong to us and that we are free to chose. I was so often told by my parents that "the world was my oyster", perhaps that is true for some, but for many of us, no matter how hard we try to build and weave and learn and grow, it just doesn't work out that way. Not because we've failed, but because we are not always truly free- when the previous generations are not able to reconcile their own journey, traumas and experiences well, the burden and the consequences get passed on and on. But here we are coming up to our 40th wedding anniversary and looking back over those four decades wondering how we ever survived- we both brought so much grief, confusion, abandonment and other people's baggage to our union- it's amazing there was any room for our love. No one talked about dysfunctional families back in those days- there were no tools and no useful outside help. In church they told us emphatically we must honour our parents no matter what. How grateful we are to be living in an age of knowledge- eventually we did find the tools to navigate ourselves to safety; to learn about boundaries, to tell the truth and tell our truth and be open to heal and reset a million things, but it's taken 40 years! People often tell me that I should write a book- I think those people may be waiting a very long time. I am never going to write a book- ever. And I am especially not going to go to all that trouble just to tell the stories of people who nearly destroyed us and whom I hold accountable for some pretty appalling and unacceptable behaviour. When you are almost 65 you really should not be hamstrung by your own mother. That is plain wrong. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi370LpKoW0Xb-3kp6RxslG1NBFlp5ar3ryBAy3avjSypay3rL-EvbkOMoys0C0kI84HuG9EGj2q7j6tyK2_E20acNLIN39LIAqhQlQAZosDS3-FGU0M9aVCkXC-dYp_yRM41RjxGCxaOY/s1280/P1160715.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi370LpKoW0Xb-3kp6RxslG1NBFlp5ar3ryBAy3avjSypay3rL-EvbkOMoys0C0kI84HuG9EGj2q7j6tyK2_E20acNLIN39LIAqhQlQAZosDS3-FGU0M9aVCkXC-dYp_yRM41RjxGCxaOY/w400-h300/P1160715.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div>With a bit of luck we're nearly out the other side of it all.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYDG0bJiWAUcB4DdAHb9MRWlfKvk4rEE3UWx2jNpWfVsNrcTLfHS7IgMd0dNnr8AQNsWZ14oBhSyTgsItDU_X4wTh9GnkXi1S9JFHAanVnNBrGqdPbv1pFNhHhCC4hXhZB9X5GqhTcNTA/s1280/P1160598+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYDG0bJiWAUcB4DdAHb9MRWlfKvk4rEE3UWx2jNpWfVsNrcTLfHS7IgMd0dNnr8AQNsWZ14oBhSyTgsItDU_X4wTh9GnkXi1S9JFHAanVnNBrGqdPbv1pFNhHhCC4hXhZB9X5GqhTcNTA/w480-h640/P1160598+%25281%2529.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>I learnt this simple practise (from a river) a while back- it's called washing and weaving and it's given us fresh perspective and huge armfuls of hope. I've always known how to weave a good life- the first thing I did when I left home was to go to a whole foods shop and a Chinese warehouse, I went to markets and libraries, I walked for miles, I climbed hills to see the view, I bought an old treadle sewing machine and started to sew my own clothes. Over the years we have learnt all kinds of new skills, we're still mending an old imperfect house and we've planted a garden- over and over again. Gardens are never done- they're a living thing! We've just re-roofed our house. Rob did all the supervising and skilfully managed all the building repairs. We are learning about herbs together every day and we go out to the land to wildcraft and visit whenever we possibly can. Warp and weft, on and on we weave...together. But then there's the washing- that removes the sediment and the crap. It's an essential art. Sometimes, with my hands in the murky water, I wonder what has become of our weaving, but when the water washes clear again I see that it still holds. Sometimes, you just have to flush!<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_9IJS-gQd4wf5xC9z5s5dldAJ5Dy-B-IgneZrof-cFYlM9EcPYVACpryLoHz_jkE9AP8JPk-gVmWoLFrNcX0z0aEEjhSVMKJ7yrI9CdbpKRbhCap6rWYLAdLCa7c0k_w7Ers_eZBV5q0/s1280/P1160584.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_9IJS-gQd4wf5xC9z5s5dldAJ5Dy-B-IgneZrof-cFYlM9EcPYVACpryLoHz_jkE9AP8JPk-gVmWoLFrNcX0z0aEEjhSVMKJ7yrI9CdbpKRbhCap6rWYLAdLCa7c0k_w7Ers_eZBV5q0/w400-h300/P1160584.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>It really helps to take a a day or two away from your own life periodically. There's a momentary release from the daily patterns and habits; a necessary refreshing of perspective, a healthy resetting.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGyoRgbmSFvRLyUO93oy8Tv-dhOtHA_LUsWpv3pzrkO76INZbhHSYYLDg0MlcAHeL1WDIf0wpKx3CtjdUgJIXoTpKgALSzBV4Y-etn9g4AV1XMsCwT7cuBoXurt2x27VRZyn4xt4nwKyQ/s1280/P1160586.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGyoRgbmSFvRLyUO93oy8Tv-dhOtHA_LUsWpv3pzrkO76INZbhHSYYLDg0MlcAHeL1WDIf0wpKx3CtjdUgJIXoTpKgALSzBV4Y-etn9g4AV1XMsCwT7cuBoXurt2x27VRZyn4xt4nwKyQ/w400-h300/P1160586.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>It's such a treat to spend time in someone else's pretty garden- this rondoletia amoena thriving on Napier Hill. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqIQFFWUKwAV8O-FaxmRllvSFbKu5GCnhbuoaNlBbh-ImeLP_rLXrNcmUsDShAKIu6idchPrpLfTAbrfX7hS4Sd7aH7OStYQ5UFVjvyvoQkAtYP63Z3qK_dEfOEEYpXRPDoLBdXzWPIJc/s1280/P1160594+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqIQFFWUKwAV8O-FaxmRllvSFbKu5GCnhbuoaNlBbh-ImeLP_rLXrNcmUsDShAKIu6idchPrpLfTAbrfX7hS4Sd7aH7OStYQ5UFVjvyvoQkAtYP63Z3qK_dEfOEEYpXRPDoLBdXzWPIJc/w480-h640/P1160594+%25281%2529.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>The old tennis pavilion of days gone by revived.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFjP7CplU2UswYVXRdZjLCR6QtAb4LVwe_wuf0kT4MCZwy2bDygvry7Sk8bJQjzLgTadyV2Oh4LPbilTmMpQy30Gd6u7DId0cFW-vFUKrvZOlk5pDmDpDJjN1wQ0xLz3XOMOso2godgf4/s1280/P1160585+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFjP7CplU2UswYVXRdZjLCR6QtAb4LVwe_wuf0kT4MCZwy2bDygvry7Sk8bJQjzLgTadyV2Oh4LPbilTmMpQy30Gd6u7DId0cFW-vFUKrvZOlk5pDmDpDJjN1wQ0xLz3XOMOso2godgf4/w400-h300/P1160585+%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>This old-fashioned rugosa rose Roserie de L'Hay has the most glorious Turkish delight fragrance. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8LvM6EK9ALsa2sdPGUoK6ff3H6r23n2bl-6M_Bh6nWvRheeLyugAioTH1jd9WyMZRebUQ8qNd47-uucubQVURfseuEcrumm7Z0nnSsaRR0KR2En_Il80ptPlVsaQIltpippRyGf4Mew0/s1280/P1160818.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8LvM6EK9ALsa2sdPGUoK6ff3H6r23n2bl-6M_Bh6nWvRheeLyugAioTH1jd9WyMZRebUQ8qNd47-uucubQVURfseuEcrumm7Z0nnSsaRR0KR2En_Il80ptPlVsaQIltpippRyGf4Mew0/w480-h640/P1160818.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>A vista to the past.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjN6rnizh2vD_DOiO79Sgl0lPm3IastFHWSDOmg4y6cKQuCKsnBoGL5Fv7-_f7OnazjZ-7j0N0sWVK40C5mBCqL89-b052n57Cwtnway_nvjA5wk9T0ISabtYvP8eIy6ONvyBvCuwbSCQ/s1280/P1160721+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjN6rnizh2vD_DOiO79Sgl0lPm3IastFHWSDOmg4y6cKQuCKsnBoGL5Fv7-_f7OnazjZ-7j0N0sWVK40C5mBCqL89-b052n57Cwtnway_nvjA5wk9T0ISabtYvP8eIy6ONvyBvCuwbSCQ/w480-h640/P1160721+%25281%2529.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIjRp5ba76qLDalc7Jk_W7vw5YfCrXRxy9TXuVrOWlhK3PU9qPKIgpzf04RVwgAuZNnwPDUh6HuFzUXAuN2pbLlEZosrb1jSh0t9U9O_v5HR_3t8ocrzjk-XGYRQwGt_pK7-jPYxBDmoE/s1280/P1160723+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIjRp5ba76qLDalc7Jk_W7vw5YfCrXRxy9TXuVrOWlhK3PU9qPKIgpzf04RVwgAuZNnwPDUh6HuFzUXAuN2pbLlEZosrb1jSh0t9U9O_v5HR_3t8ocrzjk-XGYRQwGt_pK7-jPYxBDmoE/w480-h640/P1160723+%25281%2529.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>Sitting in peace, wrapped in beauty is a weaving of goodness but also a washing of the detritus of the past.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3jUMLBttWhpqgxoIUbeEPsh-dwNcZXpVK4tHQ4nhNwUBkV7LN4Khh5PXknylTpdlxtztpJahqMepyLrah3_PPj2w18fMId9j6VGvV82MQUAe22E5_litEjSa8ECoc7aP4HdYU03oiaMM/s1280/P1160704+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3jUMLBttWhpqgxoIUbeEPsh-dwNcZXpVK4tHQ4nhNwUBkV7LN4Khh5PXknylTpdlxtztpJahqMepyLrah3_PPj2w18fMId9j6VGvV82MQUAe22E5_litEjSa8ECoc7aP4HdYU03oiaMM/w480-h640/P1160704+%25281%2529.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>This year has seen us continuing to explore all the spaces of our lives and clearing out that which no longer has any useful service, offends unhelpfully, or plain weighs us down.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfDzj0Ic7j4JI32ScS8BzRGFgUxtDSP7EIXKUJpIx_rV_3M1brt0wrRhwQ8WLjFGAQ2C0S67IPaSNNbd23LDi6W_hjZodCeqgU52o5n7Iob-3Px7e5P45qyW1AhpNAAM9tQ6HshK0xCHU/s1280/P1160728.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfDzj0Ic7j4JI32ScS8BzRGFgUxtDSP7EIXKUJpIx_rV_3M1brt0wrRhwQ8WLjFGAQ2C0S67IPaSNNbd23LDi6W_hjZodCeqgU52o5n7Iob-3Px7e5P45qyW1AhpNAAM9tQ6HshK0xCHU/w480-h640/P1160728.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>There is rest in clearing out the rubbish- spaces are harmonised or soothed and so are we.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihGWAwmgI_CKtfSTQTJzKZI48yjLTkHzEpT5tRqB3IZTaTLaB9iI2_04RjpasohQi35DLoWFU2iTKb9K0rOiMIGfInHc3ALCudiNug1fH79NIidYcJqsxiROaGZFZ6IhI0RSkDk2d9wpg/s1280/P1160607+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihGWAwmgI_CKtfSTQTJzKZI48yjLTkHzEpT5tRqB3IZTaTLaB9iI2_04RjpasohQi35DLoWFU2iTKb9K0rOiMIGfInHc3ALCudiNug1fH79NIidYcJqsxiROaGZFZ6IhI0RSkDk2d9wpg/w400-h300/P1160607+%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Attics are fascinating places- holding momentoes, ephemera, awkward stuff we're not sure what to do with, junk, and sometimes remnants of the toxic kind. The hidden family secrets often cause the greatest disruption- usually for those left behind.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWomwOYGtkip9b9hs4wV8rXUB8WlNK9bokoxUy9hO3px3mhPTa8NEdfZwZ8r10o7tOT9fNtjx9AvGhVX3rcwHsYWnPVblDjA1zQSQxo-d-sqFTmZ24KbtqFOW5Xsdbo8XSBfTaiPXDI98/s1280/P1160605.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWomwOYGtkip9b9hs4wV8rXUB8WlNK9bokoxUy9hO3px3mhPTa8NEdfZwZ8r10o7tOT9fNtjx9AvGhVX3rcwHsYWnPVblDjA1zQSQxo-d-sqFTmZ24KbtqFOW5Xsdbo8XSBfTaiPXDI98/w400-h300/P1160605.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>If we want to uphold life solidly and well- best we clear out the spiders and the skeletons from the familial cupboards. Taking sins and secrets to the grave may save the <i>squirming one</i> discomfort but frequently off loads the crippling, pain and consequences to their offspring.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw887xVvRCZHXM0lxea3bzboi93p-MxQdkgBCiVVZ2C4CdA7vPX1Vpyq7wQ8s_4UdPV4xwlbF89-4EcaenASIR6O3bi9j5EgTBBRri0fxJ0nxZJn4dOf8FOJ7a6KShvsIA8q62HD92Das/s1280/P1160604+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw887xVvRCZHXM0lxea3bzboi93p-MxQdkgBCiVVZ2C4CdA7vPX1Vpyq7wQ8s_4UdPV4xwlbF89-4EcaenASIR6O3bi9j5EgTBBRri0fxJ0nxZJn4dOf8FOJ7a6KShvsIA8q62HD92Das/w480-h640/P1160604+%25281%2529.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We have been diligent in our opening of the cupboards and our determination to use a truth wash on the family linen and it's made all the difference in the world. Finally the spinning has (almost) stopped and the consequences of other people's choices no longer rule our lives. It turns out that we're pretty good at making fabulous choices about our own best interests and how we look out for each other.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbYTkXplrQJTCiya4mAl9wA381DZWsvfodlWJuuPPsxU0EarnTf8fEleT-LcGhBkK3aRmWXiYFvZ1XFIfN8ZAYrNFftlw45TWcHd-TnE8WVrEdz4AHb3q_hapfFvn9rWTlczhf_HyxAso/s1280/P1160609+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbYTkXplrQJTCiya4mAl9wA381DZWsvfodlWJuuPPsxU0EarnTf8fEleT-LcGhBkK3aRmWXiYFvZ1XFIfN8ZAYrNFftlw45TWcHd-TnE8WVrEdz4AHb3q_hapfFvn9rWTlczhf_HyxAso/w480-h640/P1160609+%25281%2529.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div>The thing that has really sideswiped us though is that the weird stuff has kept coming- in full colour! Just when we've thought- surely there can't be any more!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJWv_sJ1VVF4AiDi5jTqcTTRm4DQn_gOhk8Ytn3jBL83f_QLTa3qtPz2WaUtbuo80BNshxCvftGJKBRc58WoENfX349vKMJ0pvZz0R1eifS77VdomxXayUS52GayYZXtsr12qb5tCPIPA/s1280/P1160848.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJWv_sJ1VVF4AiDi5jTqcTTRm4DQn_gOhk8Ytn3jBL83f_QLTa3qtPz2WaUtbuo80BNshxCvftGJKBRc58WoENfX349vKMJ0pvZz0R1eifS77VdomxXayUS52GayYZXtsr12qb5tCPIPA/w480-h640/P1160848.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>We are constantly learning new ways of being, of eating, growing and knowing. This sushi salad is our most brilliant discovery of late.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjh6pJf-vOV30EAamBTfCQp1cV-aAmAPQNrtv_4SUh574Emi1qEMCVl2lxYuhA43CpZMQCyn38rPwORqO8esjTJfWidAphEUBvbWTbI4Q0rUwbaRNLkfZk4Om9_mSg-_MNmghyphenhyphenFhfzZYQ/s1280/P1160717.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjh6pJf-vOV30EAamBTfCQp1cV-aAmAPQNrtv_4SUh574Emi1qEMCVl2lxYuhA43CpZMQCyn38rPwORqO8esjTJfWidAphEUBvbWTbI4Q0rUwbaRNLkfZk4Om9_mSg-_MNmghyphenhyphenFhfzZYQ/w480-h640/P1160717.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>It's such a satisfying way to live- slowly and simply. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv2PSYmT8qWT113oNI04uYIJae65zYCeoD2ZBVrzbb3mmDLf5s8jArk2hR5wUqJV2ni8ETy8tBoH4zxUqEPegNZUPRGcintDZQqzbz6Ow8rzg8M7D8ik7VQ9P2DH4sxI90j9XJZIHiuM0/s1280/P1160718+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv2PSYmT8qWT113oNI04uYIJae65zYCeoD2ZBVrzbb3mmDLf5s8jArk2hR5wUqJV2ni8ETy8tBoH4zxUqEPegNZUPRGcintDZQqzbz6Ow8rzg8M7D8ik7VQ9P2DH4sxI90j9XJZIHiuM0/w480-h640/P1160718+%25281%2529.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>It also means we're not easily fooled.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihotLmtkX0Jg9et5pR-PmQMmJi45zxyN069pYVnNPDLOzrsd0KUaYzQcKb0EHDyPwoNA8qJLA9TXCdzQ6rl9dPsoH4ZNWCR0qbxfiCjuLztvVZ85xQt-rcwZVqg8GDsaSXCn-jjZiFCV4/s1280/P1160616+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihotLmtkX0Jg9et5pR-PmQMmJi45zxyN069pYVnNPDLOzrsd0KUaYzQcKb0EHDyPwoNA8qJLA9TXCdzQ6rl9dPsoH4ZNWCR0qbxfiCjuLztvVZ85xQt-rcwZVqg8GDsaSXCn-jjZiFCV4/w480-h640/P1160616+%25281%2529.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>So when we were sent a message by a friend back in June to say that Rob's old family home 20 Sunray Avenue was for sale, we were completely flabbergasted.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdmDEUMJzjvmIkPQAGxOflp9y27nGpF42sbSyPI5T-0bUTHwZ2DaPjbSCscdKF2LVFz8O1_4D1H3m0Cvr-xpI6NA3BYiAGTB9RPOVipiKfaaXWVDd6AhokuL8jso5Jih22cnYdd7FOJi0/s1280/P1160619+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdmDEUMJzjvmIkPQAGxOflp9y27nGpF42sbSyPI5T-0bUTHwZ2DaPjbSCscdKF2LVFz8O1_4D1H3m0Cvr-xpI6NA3BYiAGTB9RPOVipiKfaaXWVDd6AhokuL8jso5Jih22cnYdd7FOJi0/w400-h300/P1160619+%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>At 91 and a half that is quite an undertaking- to clean up, sell up and move.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSBbW8hmTXV7mCfY3jIJlIMBsatl5tuxvg4LairidSgxXSg__EOITWTmebhQqRuElxULEc8NKWuB_pXv7bSg3rQ3guKBnZ7-OHn96YuafWlvkkRJ45ckEjjA9nda8Qhv0vGFN_D6NK004/s1280/P1160614+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSBbW8hmTXV7mCfY3jIJlIMBsatl5tuxvg4LairidSgxXSg__EOITWTmebhQqRuElxULEc8NKWuB_pXv7bSg3rQ3guKBnZ7-OHn96YuafWlvkkRJ45ckEjjA9nda8Qhv0vGFN_D6NK004/w400-h300/P1160614+%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>To chose not to tell your eldest son (and have no intention of doing so) is just plain weird.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd35GncZXf5FoJwvqb8pE-8eve7TUZxP0ZAsA593ru5_9nizmwnAfOQW5K1hihlnHHnCoeoejHccxE65kNp_PxiwOLm0T5jBhfWqIVJR4doStWvV69Rs3uAabJpt6QDolJidCjCUPCLN4/s1280/P1160620+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd35GncZXf5FoJwvqb8pE-8eve7TUZxP0ZAsA593ru5_9nizmwnAfOQW5K1hihlnHHnCoeoejHccxE65kNp_PxiwOLm0T5jBhfWqIVJR4doStWvV69Rs3uAabJpt6QDolJidCjCUPCLN4/w480-h640/P1160620+%25281%2529.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>Rob's elder brother died abruptly 3 1/2 years ago, his much younger brother recently remarried and together (along with Mum & step-son) they all planned to sell the house that had been the family hub/home for 54 years. Wild dreams of escaping to the "country" outside of Auckland, with the now pregnant new wife and elderly mother in tow, were clearly vivid and all consuming. No one thought that it might be nice to send Rob a quick message and let him know what they were all up to. When he finally phoned his mother to ask her what was going on, there were elaborate and fanciful stories told as subterfuge...until he asked about the house being on the market- silence, dead silence "Oh....you know".<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYp-lEBaUsvNsi-QvgpLGmJTty8mCiZ8HivdL39_Nif8ixMZob4B0UcFEqEQ0yjeQ01pBfQ2t6Fl47LndjCdodLXStaim73amsE0cAT0HmIJRpz3zM0pN5iIH6_0Wo2NVa-kwMIMSxIC8/s1280/P1160625+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYp-lEBaUsvNsi-QvgpLGmJTty8mCiZ8HivdL39_Nif8ixMZob4B0UcFEqEQ0yjeQ01pBfQ2t6Fl47LndjCdodLXStaim73amsE0cAT0HmIJRpz3zM0pN5iIH6_0Wo2NVa-kwMIMSxIC8/w480-h640/P1160625+%25281%2529.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>I just love the resilience of this centranthus ruber growing in the wall. Sometimes we adapt and even thrive where others never would, sometimes we don't.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxCf2pIlxUJZnuiANbAV30aVmewGEhXBrvtvQ7_C7gSBUVl37IoxRZxk5vqY64ayQgrgRRA7G59T4KEGlBJKSo_AZwA81qO3TCtvCipeOOxQnb4ng6Za1G-yi-fvN9GMGR3ddGyTF5OE0/s1280/P1160638.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxCf2pIlxUJZnuiANbAV30aVmewGEhXBrvtvQ7_C7gSBUVl37IoxRZxk5vqY64ayQgrgRRA7G59T4KEGlBJKSo_AZwA81qO3TCtvCipeOOxQnb4ng6Za1G-yi-fvN9GMGR3ddGyTF5OE0/w480-h640/P1160638.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>The story continued- "We don't know what we're doing, or where we're going, it's all in God's hands, we're just moving to the country" became the family mantra.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSSalnH7kPzPhRmS01zP1ZRNMdxWnUQsnL6etKKquZyvqA9J-RLrWQrY8ifyKs2cux6vS2-ImJgtL2qcNduB53I9VigJalKyzauP8fpoIfvlezBFKkQAaAuGUJFOv84mCfUm3HMykzUT0/s1280/P1160648.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSSalnH7kPzPhRmS01zP1ZRNMdxWnUQsnL6etKKquZyvqA9J-RLrWQrY8ifyKs2cux6vS2-ImJgtL2qcNduB53I9VigJalKyzauP8fpoIfvlezBFKkQAaAuGUJFOv84mCfUm3HMykzUT0/w480-h640/P1160648.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>That's interesting because we saw the house near Cambridge on line- yip they bought it for around 1.3 million. Times running out to tell the truth- ah, well that may be a little tricky because no one will reply to Rob's questions and he is not allowed to have his mother's phone number- that is reserved for friends only.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_zKkdZ1yjU_tDK-DUlzL9IvrrE1Couir4rlYDqd7WBAJRncyALJ_WWTNKsFtlCdAxyZgbDABwHy1ch5qtFfoVZwV8qk6-1j0QPJfHbx81cfW9gIYAxuLevReV0gwZsozYFekS1C4sTI8/s1280/P1160660.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_zKkdZ1yjU_tDK-DUlzL9IvrrE1Couir4rlYDqd7WBAJRncyALJ_WWTNKsFtlCdAxyZgbDABwHy1ch5qtFfoVZwV8qk6-1j0QPJfHbx81cfW9gIYAxuLevReV0gwZsozYFekS1C4sTI8/w400-h300/P1160660.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>We comforted ourselves with such thoughts as "Well at least Rob doesn't have to help clean up the property and the 5 or 6 dead cars and truck loads of crap"- a nightmare waiting to arrive in his lap for decades.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVljj4Ef7HPoNnfwc0iDvO8YtVw5HVR4vawA21HQ6XipFzS6S79z2H5mYhzh02V-USd3RUwWTQF2VE4rAyXN1k3h5pUkG_TMBJ8nbLjETBJW1VSjnq8viIMvqGpUXF7-R4hkES3OF7Wd0/s1280/P1160663.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVljj4Ef7HPoNnfwc0iDvO8YtVw5HVR4vawA21HQ6XipFzS6S79z2H5mYhzh02V-USd3RUwWTQF2VE4rAyXN1k3h5pUkG_TMBJ8nbLjETBJW1VSjnq8viIMvqGpUXF7-R4hkES3OF7Wd0/w480-h640/P1160663.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>Ah, digitalis- foxgloves. Yes, Felicia had a quadruple heart by-pass some 20 years ago- almost total occlusion. Now she lives on warfarin and some kind of biltong-like spite.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7phIUougfEj0zQDrb3Mtxcls2xeKV8PIbrtsUjMcF3jRnl0Moa47QzJdgw_BU0v5CV3_QJCNrhYju710rNfnvZLGJduqDlvIGGQkjnS-QZMcCIJUKKIrbTUEnz5KnF1LBtu-2JCRdBjI/s1280/P1160668.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7phIUougfEj0zQDrb3Mtxcls2xeKV8PIbrtsUjMcF3jRnl0Moa47QzJdgw_BU0v5CV3_QJCNrhYju710rNfnvZLGJduqDlvIGGQkjnS-QZMcCIJUKKIrbTUEnz5KnF1LBtu-2JCRdBjI/w480-h640/P1160668.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>Every move she makes is directed by God. She won't ever explain the directions given because "you wouldn't understand"- such missives are only for <i>special</i> people like herself. Never mind the lies and the slander that leak out through the half baked tales the rest of the time; the gossip that has divided and broken the family. But, of course, it's all my fault. She's been talking to the Lord about me apparently to see what he'll do with me since I have said dreadful things and she's quite sure I should be punished!<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9fs1bZ1FfQjGJtGusThZI4JKAKVxPpTcA9U4_-M94JiyIzQF6aN0yB4NNiCiOMgw441lONi-1pHYHuJV0oZXg5H1TqWHw2EHz4tMdkE5KqwLglX6h-AuVzqVEph8UQdmARpEg0xtGk90/s1280/P1160685.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9fs1bZ1FfQjGJtGusThZI4JKAKVxPpTcA9U4_-M94JiyIzQF6aN0yB4NNiCiOMgw441lONi-1pHYHuJV0oZXg5H1TqWHw2EHz4tMdkE5KqwLglX6h-AuVzqVEph8UQdmARpEg0xtGk90/w480-h640/P1160685.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>I'm not quite certain when she climbed in to that high tower of specialness, but she's never coming down. All the money lives there with her- that's how you get what you want of course- just withhold or dispense as you wish and that way you're always in charge, especially with God one your side. "Money's your medicine, but you're sick all the time". I'm also not certain when Rob got stepped down from the family- <i>We </i>are <i>The Family</i>...and you, are not. One day just like a lavatory door, the sign suddenly said "Uninvited", and that was that. This stuff messes with your head. So it is not the slightest bit surprising that when asked when they were going to tell Rob about selling the house, they said of one accord- "We weren't!". Fair enough if that's the way things have drifted over time, except... when you then decide to go to Stuff an on-line national news service to broadcast your story. The article is still here: <a href="https://www.stuff.co.nz/life-style/homed/real-estate/122225970/aucklands-hottest-doup-is-a-midcentury-time-capsule-with-same-owner-since-new" target="_blank">Auckland's 'hottest do-up is a Mid-century time capsule </a>with same owner since new. And then, for the icing on the proverbial, they went to Seven Sharp and were both interviewed for a slot on Prime Time national television. Rob made it to a vague wafty photo on the wall holding his baby brother, otherwise he never existed.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr4QDyBg82SKp-3loLp-WiGUduI1Am6d1F4mIBQQbsz3dx4wWy36TLOVCXoooqbFDj2zSKwMLrP2SInoaktMw1toLVc0H7i-ihC7Hwu4ghgQiXHA7MgyrZ-hTIwPuzahpgPsQElbKcNjg/s1280/P1160735+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="959" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr4QDyBg82SKp-3loLp-WiGUduI1Am6d1F4mIBQQbsz3dx4wWy36TLOVCXoooqbFDj2zSKwMLrP2SInoaktMw1toLVc0H7i-ihC7Hwu4ghgQiXHA7MgyrZ-hTIwPuzahpgPsQElbKcNjg/w480-h640/P1160735+%25281%2529.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>One morning as we were walking back up the hill and I was just admiring a delightful garden, I spied the gardener at work. I wandered up the drive way to speak to her and to tell her what a pleasure her garden was to passer's-by. Right about then, I looked down at my feet- what could not be seen from the road was this vast and glorious bed of my most beloved lily of the valley. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwhYScdB_CjTF_Tm1u32KcHvSwYdGgQoCHxsjmFIY33l6_94XQ3lWXdy3HgnkORX0NMJbPmaVbjdBfs1MhRqB7DBamsoY86eErqvxgugGQnuJeODTsNRRquvPz3TTIFsXape7A1UIrxbk/s1280/P1160851.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwhYScdB_CjTF_Tm1u32KcHvSwYdGgQoCHxsjmFIY33l6_94XQ3lWXdy3HgnkORX0NMJbPmaVbjdBfs1MhRqB7DBamsoY86eErqvxgugGQnuJeODTsNRRquvPz3TTIFsXape7A1UIrxbk/w480-h640/P1160851.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>The flowers Helen gave me lasted a week- that's surprising really as I thought they may have been sniffed away long before then.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghuH3iG-L8fb-lf8aE_kxdU_znZmcZ-1aPaLh9PZ1mSr0MWpKvihrx8vy-K-yNizWhpVKKDOpFBpWtUDZt7YGa7tqeG10S_oNd3E39_bHVNSP1lszjDkJkA0QTjIhac7x3Uy3NWJqPtQM/s1280/P1160821.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghuH3iG-L8fb-lf8aE_kxdU_znZmcZ-1aPaLh9PZ1mSr0MWpKvihrx8vy-K-yNizWhpVKKDOpFBpWtUDZt7YGa7tqeG10S_oNd3E39_bHVNSP1lszjDkJkA0QTjIhac7x3Uy3NWJqPtQM/w480-h640/P1160821.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div>Presently, we are pondering the strange but helpful message we received through the title of a book I saw in the library: "Holy Disunity". There will be no resolution to these peculiar events- only through death, I feel. So we will learn hand and hand, to dance along our own sacred path and not look back.</div><div>We have the loveliest plans for our 40th wedding anniversary coming up in a month's time. We are off to Tiger House!<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRy2pnSZ1XND96T-Yd8E2_tkwk48oXpRbPUT6yKk8aS8dIFRAH7SaOz-GAu5uKUt2SqEjZUdduSurRyUMsYf_wW2ckHbz4YhPya1A-c6B67YtpfET6znJgLPzENVBlKYzZprc6fbHLLqs/s1039/Roses3.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="634" data-original-width="1039" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRy2pnSZ1XND96T-Yd8E2_tkwk48oXpRbPUT6yKk8aS8dIFRAH7SaOz-GAu5uKUt2SqEjZUdduSurRyUMsYf_wW2ckHbz4YhPya1A-c6B67YtpfET6znJgLPzENVBlKYzZprc6fbHLLqs/w400-h244/Roses3.png" width="400" /></a></div></div>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-22945339774737523922020-04-14T12:36:00.000+12:002020-04-23T21:31:50.527+12:00Breath<div style="text-align: justify;">
Through this autumn of 2020 I've been thinking a good deal about breath.</div>
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To breathe is to live.</div>
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As we all journey through this peculiar time in world history, here in relative isolation, I've been living my life in simple, daily ways and noticing my breath, my lungs- how they feel, where they are in my body and what limits my capacity to breathe. I am also noticing what it is that causes me to breathe deeply, to relax, centre and feel alive. I first began to notice the impact of fear and anxiety on my ability to breathe easily, just before the "Lock Down" here, almost 3 weeks ago, when Rob's mother sent him an email that we had no idea was coming- it's been three years since they last spoke and with this unexpected correspondence came a wave of deeply dark energy and trouble. The following day Rob hurt his knee with a piece of wood while building, (and he'd been doing just fine on the safety front until then)<br />
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which created an injury to the bursa, that then developed in to cellulitis and caused a huge amount of subsequent trauma and worry. This pattern of cause and effect has been repeated hundreds of times through the last 26 years. When it first began it was through letters being sent. Crazy behaviour and angst would inevitably erupt in our household and other consequences- troubles: burst pipes, complaints at Rob's work, our children having wild meltdowns, terrible arguments between us and various forms of accidents and sickness. Nothing I did ever stopped this dreadful process from happening again and again. We'd pick ourselves up, just get our dignity back and mend the broken pieces when wham it would strike in yet another form. I eventually took to pegging the various letters and other posted items in trees in the garden until Rob came home from work, as I didn't want to bring them in to the house. Many times we burnt them, some are still at the lawyers office for "safe keeping"- out of our domain. The thing that I noticed this time around, was the impact of this dark energy on my breath. When the autonomic nervous system (fight/flight/freeze) is triggered due to a perceived threat, the breath shortens and becomes constrained and the natural easy rhythm is misplaced.</div>
One of the consequences of these visitations is a form of mis-communication and dislocation between us (which is why I knew something was very wrong before the email came through) and it was a wee while down the track before I realised that Rob was in trouble with his knee injury. It felt like the whole world was against us and it felt very, very scary. A water pipe in our front garden then burst. I felt incredibly panicky and anxious through these days, while also wandering in and out of rage-a huge anger that this woman would continue to bring so much trouble into our lives. And my breath told me the story- shortened uneasy breath and heart palpitations.<br />
How can this possibly be- well may you ask!! A woman who loves Jesus above all else, yet can activate so much harm in the life of the son that she professes to love so well. Every day praying- prayers becoming bad medicine. "Blessings" sent that morph in to curses. My lungs hurt- life diminished to survival. But I..AM..WOMAN here me roar!! (huge breath)- how dare you!! This life of ours is not yours to take. This marriage is sacred before God! And so I set about gathering my medicines and herbs that I have spent the last year preparing and I made poultices for the infected leg & others for the damaged knee and I made nourishing food and herbal infusions and I brought out my tinctures and I read some more of what I needed to do.<br />
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And so with a doctors visit (for work and to be safe and yes, an antibiotic) we applied what we had and little by little we healed....the leg, the knee and our lives.<br />
While Rob rested, I walked to the trees..my friends. And I found strength and I found solace and I gathered up my courage. That first day- heart beating strangely, breath all over the place, anxiety extreme (beyond normal- I'm a resourceful person) and as I walked across the paddock under the watchful eye of the grand old trees in the Showgrounds, a bee came and landed on my hand, a little further a long a red admiral butterfly came fluttering up and landed on my breast- breathe....reassurance- it'll all be ok.<br />
The next morning when I could hear the sound of water rushing through the pipes like crazy and Rob was still asleep, I walked around the house in the early morning mist in my dressing gown- once again feeling agitated and anxious (what next!) when I looked up the path and here coming towards me was the most beautiful little hedgehog- all will be well. Breathe.<br />
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As is the way when you develop a relationship with healing plants- just the right thing presented itself to us to help heal the knee. A post by a friend prompted me to research the Cotton Rose bush that is growing down the back of the garden. A glorious thing- its also known as Hibiscus Mutabilis as the flowers come out white then fade to pink and the following day they finish their life in a deep shade of rose.<br />
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This is the first year that our Cotton Rose has flowered properly. It'll be finished as soon as we have the first frost. I read that the flowers most especially can be crushed and used as a poultice to help reduce inflammation due to injury. Perfect! Breathe.<br />
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We both felt ourselves settling in to trust, breathing more fully, as these beautiful flowers began to work their magic.<br />
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I crushed up one flower at a time to make a poultice each day.<br />
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Until we found that it was no longer required.<br />
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Lots of rest was also helpful.<br />
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Beauty...deepens the breath too and is everywhere we look.<br />
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Cats know just how to collapse in to deep peaceful relaxation when they feel safe.<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">One morning I was watching a video from the wonderful healer Prune Harris and she was demonstrating an exercise that connects the lungs and the immune system. I taught it to Rob and so we practised it that evening in Lucy. He got it perfectly. Breathe- deeply. Rest. </span><br />
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You can learn it here too, if you like.</div>
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And so we naturally return to "Acknowledging the good that we already have in our lives as this is the foundation for all abundance". Slightly paraphrased from Eckhart Toile.</div>
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And soon enough we have been able to ride our bikes and walk again together and visit our beloved places and trees. For it is amongst these friends- "The Lungs of the Earth" that we find we can draw breath most deeply.<br />
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And know that we are safe in their care and strong arms.<br />
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It's fascinating to me that we call the in breath inspiration- to inhale, to in-spire.<br />
Trees absorb carbon dioxide, humans exhale it, trees breath out oxygen- the very substance we need for the breath of life-in. Isn't that amazing!<br />
I have also been thinking about this global state of emergency caused by a particular virus & it's mutations, that is effecting and limiting the breath of the entire world; simultaneously. This impact is brought about obviously physiologically, but also psychologically. The virus infects/invades the cells and inhibits the natural function of the body, the emotions of fear, panic and anxiety and so forth, evoked either by presence or imagined threat of the virus- in us, have precisely the same impact. All of it alters our ability to breathe- in, oxygen. Life.<br />
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The dictionary states that breath is:</div>
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~ The air inhaled and exhaled in respiration.</div>
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~ Respiration, especially as necessary to life.</div>
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~ Life, vitality.</div>
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~ The ability to breathe easily and normally. She stopped to regain her breath.</div>
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~ Time to breathe; pause or respite. Give him a little breather.</div>
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And isn't that just the simple reality of things- we each must attend to our own respiration. Our life breath is our own and cannot be shared. Our inhalation forms our inspiration- out of which comes our unique creative gifts- our offerings to the world. When we are not able to breathe freely we seldom flourish.<br />
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The dictionary also offers this definition of the word inspire:<br />
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To fill (someone) with the urge or ability to do or feel something, especially to do something creative.<br />
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I love that we are so wonderfully and marvellously made, but it's funny how we really have so little knowledge about all the complexities of our human functionality. I'm a pretty simple living woman, I've come to realise- while others pursue knowledge, information and what they believe to be truth with great gusto, I am happy pottering a long in life with my own personal interface; yet ironically, I ask a thousand questions a day and I have a huge passion for learning- real stuff- things that are either wondrous, or that provide answers or assistance for everyday living. That's why I love nature so much. The plants and trees never put you crook and are always too happy to see me and offer their support and assistance.</div>
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In the lovely Steiner/Waldolf model of the 12 senses that I mentioned in my last post I have discovered that there is no Sense of Breath- I guess, because breath is life itself, but there most certainly is The Sense of Smell. <a href="https://fairydustteaching.com/2011/02/saturday-senses-sense-of-smell/">Fairy Dust Teachings suggests</a>: " It is through the sense of smell that we gather massages about the environment with every breath we take by the automatic function of smell that detects dangers, food, and other people. Think about common phrases we use like "I smell" trouble in the air". "Did you get wind of that?", "She is a breath of fresh air", "It's stink that she can't have the day off"....Our sense of smell plays a powerful role in the way we recognise each other, are attracted to mates, recall memories and even warnings about the environment around us".</div>
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I realise now that I have always had particularly acute senses and it is through my sense of smell most of all that I navigated my early years of life. The comforting smell of my Teddy was my anchor in those first 7 years of my life. The scent of winter sweet, blossom flowers, daphne, feijoas, passionfruit etc were all indelibly embedded in my olfactory memory bank from very wee. It was the smell of the house at Sunray Avenue (Rob's childhood home) that I will never, ever forget- the rank, mouldy, musty odour of contained mildew & dirt pervades every inch of that dwelling. It always made me feel very ill and sometimes gave me nightmares. Half the house has no concrete foundation so the stench of stale dirt has permeated everything in those 50 years of it's standing. Interestingly- in truth, I was never welcome, nor safe in that house. What we <i>can</i> smell we can make a choice about- mostly. "Ooh that bread's gone mouldy" causes us to throw the offending food in to the compost. Stinky feet, bad breath- we'll keep our distance. And of course, there are all the glorious smells that enrich our life daily: the comforting smell of dinner cooking, for instance, allows us to relax, feel safe and perhaps edify our much needed sense of belonging- even if just to our own lives.</div>
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But, it's that which we cannot detect, yet we breath in, that can really cause a problem: the pollen grains I see all over my car just now, but are invisible to me as I inhale them, or the cold, 'flu, covid19 virus that gets right up your nose without giving the slightest hint of it's presence. Even more disturbing is the energetic, covert toxin that arrives by stealth and causes chaos without the slightest permission- only the symptoms give it's presence away. In every instance it's the breath that let's us know what's going on in the beginning.</div>
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When it comes to these invisible invaders, we find that we are not in control of the situation, but what we can do is to gather around ourselves allies that will help to strengthen us and equip us to manage an uncalled for encounter with that which seeks to aggravate or destroy. And again I return to my simple ways and knowledge. It's tragic that in our modern age so many of us have lost generational knowledge of almost all good living practises. This has been brought home so powerfully as we've all had to be so forcibly re-educated to the basic practise of washing our hands to stop the spread of disease- any disease. But we've also forgotten about fresh air, sunshine, gardening, growing food, gathering herbs for nourishment and healing and how to prepare and cook food from real and actual ingredients. Learning and practising folk medicine and growing our own food or foraging for it and knowing local food producers well is the most fundamentally empowering thing we can learn to do for ourselves. Every part of this process is entirely in our control. We get a choice. We get to build our own immune response system in to health, or we can choose to tear it down and pretend that someone else was in charge. What I love so dearly is that these skills will travel with me through the rest of my life and they help me to breathe, to inspire, to create, to live my best life and they give me the very best shot at loving myself and others well. The other toxic stuff- I'll go on fighting for our freedom no matter what it takes.<br />
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Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-57894563899471753942020-02-11T22:38:00.002+13:002020-02-12T07:44:06.306+13:00Weaving a NestI have long been fascinated by the idea that we perhaps, have 12 senses, rather than just the 5 that we are all so familiar with. It was Rudolph Steiner that first proposed this intriguing concept. I just love this post here at <a href="https://fairydustteaching.com/2011/01/the-twelve-senses/">Fairy Dust Teaching</a> that explains it all so beautifully. Having been raised in very conventional ways, myself- this news is thrilling to me. Suddenly, everything makes so much more sense, now that the missing bits have been delivered. It's like only ever having a set of five primary coloured crayons, kept in a very skinny pencil case, with which to colour in the world- so limiting. And then, quite suddenly, being presented with a complete rainbow box of delicious pastels to work with- everything changes.<br />
I really like this homeschooling diagram as it puts the development of the 12 senses through childhood in to very helpful perspective.<br />
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<a href="https://theparentingpassageway.com/2012/01/04/more-virtual-tea-the-twelve-senses-in-homeschooling/"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="767" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj3O_gGb_wlMVbbeO4kmB4biriGzYWBxCI6vLRuwri3u77LvJsngU56paoImggRcKenbuq-ovKwF_0PaGpzgObTKa7_qvQnY9q1WPVpWVQ39Qb91VhsXCST12SilLLnzZFi6HqkqxYon4/s400/wp_000170.jpg" width="398" /></a></div>
And this is why I believe that a "good" childhood is so vital, a child's well-being is woven strand by strand with fine threads & teeny stitches in to a belief & value system that will travel with her the rest of her life. It may seem a very strange metaphor, but this belief system is much like a healthy pelvic floor- elastic & supportive & beautifully constructed to hold all the vital organs of creativity in place- effortlessly. The fabric of childhood values, is in fact, not crafted by the child, but woven by others around her. She may offer small snippets to be added in to the creation, but she is not the architect, nor is she in charge of the project. Some of the materials used are imperceptibly passed on by other generations, others are absorbed in to the fabric simply through the close & seamless bond with mothers & caregivers, as for some long time the little one does not see herself as separate from the mother, but as one & the same. Which is why I inadvertently absorbed so much of my mother's self hatred & melancholy. As a child you have no idea what is normal or healthy, or if it is not, it's just your life. Some of us are offered beautiful life blankets woven with love, richness & great skill, that we carry with us in to the adult world gratefully. Others are offered blankets of discordant colours & materials that may be scratchy & itchy & cause us no end of trouble & discomfort & do not serve us well. It is a very difficult thing to find yourself with a dumb life blanket. And the truth is, we are not at liberty to just throw the thing away, it's ours whether we like it or not & we must figure out for ourselves how we will re-craft the offering, in to a support that will more graciously sustain us. This work may mean a life time of unpicking.<br />
I have come to observe that many people receive perfectly fine life blankets, others have a good bit of work making do & mending theirs, and then there are the others- the scapegoats & black sheep who have to face the truth that what they have been offered will harm, kill or disable them if they don't deconstruct the blanket almost entirely. The reason that we are not at liberty to simply burn the offensive thing is that by now it has also become part of our emotional & physical body.<br />
I have become very aware of a troubling phenomena of recent times, as I observe many people around me suffering- really, really struggling with unsolvable, incurable health issues. And in every case I note that the life blanket given to them in childhood is a toxic/scratchy one. I have struggled for the last 30 years with a lack of vitality & an inability to resolve health issues & become fully well myself, no matter what I have done to try & help myself, until now...now that I have fully separated myself from a father who intends me nothing but ill-will & has done so for over 40 years. You see, it never stops in childhood- the toxic thing, it goes on & on- sticking to your life life like dog poo on the bottom of your shoe. You cannot just simply, pull your socks up & get over such things.<br />
Those who are so damaged that they have nothing to offer their offspring other than life blankets embedded with utterly inappropriate poison apples, are to be pitied.<br />
Their legacy to their victims is a perpetual & gnawing sense of un-belonging & abandonment that follows us in to every nook & cranny of life, never allowing us rest. As a consequence we end up in a state of heightened anxiety & nervousness, struggling to trust others & the goodness in life- we long for even a little of the happiness & sunshine that others seem to so readily gather around themselves. Once activated by the life threat, we come to discover that the panic switch is set to always on & alert, & our rest & restore function is rendered faulty or broken.<br />
So, how do these parentally disordered human beings come to be this way?<br />
I cannot tell you.<br />
All I do know is- that when you reach old age you have a lived your life daily, thirty thousand times over, making one choice, one response of love or contempt, kindness or selfishness- one decision at a time. How we came to have three such people within our family life, I also cannot tell you.<br />
It has been a long 30 years of suffering the consequences, but we have done the work, we have used the tools that we have managed to dig up or find for ourselves & we have methodically bent our heads & worn down our fingers as we unpicked the corrupted & ugly threads & we have rewoven them with feathers & usnea & sheep's wool & joy. Snip, snip pull. Warp, snip, pull, discard, weft. Snip, snip pull, discard. Warp & weft.<br />
It's not enough to proclaim "tell me if I ever start to behave like that!" the ink is indelible- the threads must be cut & pulled.<br />
At various times through the years we have looked up from the work- to rub our aching necks & pause to consider what home means to us, what love means to us, what feeling safe means to us & what would healing from it all really look like.<br />
Well it looks like this: photo credit:<a href="https://www.facebook.com/LyndaHallinanGardening/photos/a.1478310269120383/2582531998698199/?type=3&theater"> Linda Hallinan</a><br />
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A work of art & perfection. Cleverly, beautifully crafted, little by little until the very best nest is formed. And it always fits the family, the person it is made for- just right.<br />
I love too, the way that my beloved Wild Carrot (Queen Anne's Lace) mimics the nest- flowers giving way to seed & closing in on themselves to form a beautiful, natural womb of protection for the mature seed of her making. One of the golden threads of nature is the miraculous- humans don't always know that they can be part of the same lovely plan.<br />
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When we came across that lovely Danish concept of Hygge- making life cosy & warm, we were so delighted & we set about infusing our lives with as much Hygge as we could muster. Recently we came to see that the fundamental thing that must be in place before Hygge makes any difference at all, is the state of The Nest. We each get to craft our own nest through our adult years, but we will only do a fine job of this creation if we have truly assessed & dealt to the state of the life blanket we we've been given so long before.<br />
The first of the 12 senses is The Sense of Life, or The Sense of Wellbeing.<br />
Fairy Dust Teaching suggests that one of the fundamental things that children long for is a rhythmic life-<br />
"And it is the rhythms that hold life- rising and setting of the sun, seven days a week, the cycle of the moon, the twelve months in a year- that we build our rhythms upon. Children require rhythm and actually long for it!! The more rythmical the life of a child, the healthier that child."<br />
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Here in this home we return again and again, as beloved children to the basic threads, materials for building a cosy nest- the scents & the beauty of seasonal flowers growing in our garden.<br />
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The wonder of lettuce going to seed.<br />
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The gratitude for the delicious Red Shiso that volunteers each summer in cracks all about the garden.<br />
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The medicinal plants like yarrow...& the visitation of bees.<br />
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Seeing once again the wonder of the process of metamorphosis right before our eyes.</div>
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Knowing, always knowing that Lucy is just there, keeping company with the hydrangea Bloody Marvellous. Lucy feels like home- always.<br />
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Eating a rainbow from the garden- because there's nourishing magic in such food.<br />
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Standing in awe before an echinacea flower- such astonishing form.<br />
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Gathering so much glorious summer produce from our little community garden down the road, then sharing it with others.<br />
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Harvesting Kawakawa fruits from the school down the road & eating breakfast with joy.</div>
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Gathering wild flowers for their colour explosion. Wow!<br />
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Picnicking by the river at Sacred Hill in the heat of summer, having taken the time to prepare delicious food for our dinner.<br />
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Marvelling at the setting sunlight through double Thalictrim blossoms.</div>
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Holding the nourishing gift of red clover blossoms- also offerings from the summer garden.<br />
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Bothering to peel the mountain pawpaws & making <a href="https://anangelinthekitchen.blogspot.com/2012/06/nans-fruit-delight.html">Nan's old Fruit Delight dessert recipe</a> with them.<br />
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Taking the time to carefully collect one of every begonia blooming in pots. Their petals are tangy & lemony & so much fun in salads.<br />
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Sitting a sunflower head on a wee seat- like an important visitor.<br />
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Reading snippets of fabulous books like Apples for Jam to each other, warms our hearts & makes us feel loved.<br />
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Memories-<br />
"There's children's laughter escaping through the iron gates & past the oleander, and the daffodils, sprinkling on the just-cut lawns that line the road and fluttering up to me through my open window, falling over my shoulder's like fairy glitter. And that atmosphere of sleeping head to tail in trains and on holiday, and knocking on walls to see if others are still awake". Tessa Kiros<br />
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Staying to watch the moon come up even though it's long past tea time & then running to the car 'cos we're freezing.<br />
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These are the threads of life that we now weave- rhythmically, daily, joyfully.<br />
Vintage French enamel bucket- op shop find.<br />
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Because all that really matters are the moments- knowing that you are loved, will always be loved & you are truly, fully awake & alive.</div>
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The moments...</div>
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"Observing freedom"<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></div>
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Captured in a split second by David (son). C<span style="text-align: center;">lick photo to enlarge</span><br />
Life. Gift to see.<br />
<br />
Moulin Rouge sunflower in Matthew's amazing, productive garden.<br />
Photo- Matthew (son).<br />
Life. Gift to see.<br />
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Also snapped in a moment of time. Setting sun. Effects- produced by Australian wild fires.</div>
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Photo- mother. Life. Gift to see.</div>
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Photo- father. Me age 59. Life. Gift to see.</div>
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When The Nest is woven with threads of love, kindness, care & acceptance...warmth naturally comes to fill it & grace abides.</div>
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Life</div>
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All is well.</div>
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Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-24575292591612327292019-06-14T23:00:00.001+12:002019-06-14T23:28:26.930+12:00Our Very Own Home Land<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The last couple of months have been quite remarkable really- as we have established the restorative rhythms of visiting "the land" firmly in to our lives. Many people have dreams & plans to travel to particular places all over the world, and really, it's astonishing that in this age, almost anyone can do so- if they have a mind too. But the funny thing is, that as we journey on in life together- more & more we find we have a no desire to travel abroad & a greater & greater compulsion to explore the land all around us in our own city; our own province of Hawke's Bay. As we go out in to the countryside- to the rivers and the beaches and the forests and the wild places; the familiar places & those we never even knew existed before, we find a deeper & deeper sense of grounding & homecoming weaving our lives together in coherence, meaning, purpose & healing. The more we show up, the more we are met with open arms & provision & a breathy sigh- of "Thank goodness you're here. Welcome!". It's a remarkable & unexpected phenomenon. Our lives & memories will never be the same again. At last we are able to surrender the past of our origins- all the prickliness & ostracism, the factions & unacceptability that was our lot & that was thrown at us in a myriad different forms. Quietly now we close the door on loss & rudeness & settle in to a whole new way of being.<br />
I think perhaps this little holiday of a few days at Kairakau in early April was a real turning point.<br />
We now see our own land through the eyes of the sacred & the heart of belonging & that, can never be taken away from us.<br />
So here, I am once more, writing our story- recording our journey home.<br />
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It only takes about 40 minutes to get to Kairakau beach from our place and the weather was pretty variable and crazy, yet we had the most wonderful time and we've been talking about & recalling our adventure ever since.</div>
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Good old salt-of-the-earth Mo had set the fire and the mouse trap and ensured we had everything that we might need for a happy stay. A retired orchardist he was on the go the whole time we were there- taking care of everything & everybody in this little Central Hawke's Bay seaside settlement.<br />
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When you travel by car, you can take whatever you like- well almost. We stopped at a little organics place just out of Waipawa & found these lovely little flowers for $4.50. I stood with my mouth open for a second and said "What $4.50!" Then, gratefully paid for them.</div>
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Sometimes small places harbour quirky interesting people (no not Rob). There's a mosaic lady out here who's very clever and left her mark all over the show.</div>
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Just along the very short road at the beachfront you cannot help but notice the track going- up! The only thing is- that track doesn't look nearly so steep when you observe other people going up it, as it actually is when you try to do the same. </div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">So when we looked at each other and said "shall we?" we had no idea that when we got half way up, scrambling in the howling wind with all that slippery grass, that neither of us might feel safe to contemplate coming back down again & I didn't fancy skidding down on my bottom! I was pretty sure that tumbling might occur, so we decided there had to be another way.</span><br />
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So up & up we went- thinking that if we headed along the top of the cliffs we must surely find another route down any time soon.<br />
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No, not that way Rob.<br />
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There were a few fast words about now- I can you tell.<br />
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We had two options (or so we thought) keep going across the cliffs to the next bay & walk back along the beach, or head across the farmland & catch up with the road over "there" & hope it took us "home". Those smooth paddocks were, in fact, puggy & deeply pocked but eventually we made it down to the road before dark...<br />
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just in time to see Mrs Tiggywinkle wander across the lawn to greet us.<br />
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Fortunately we had thought of a nice simple dinner before heading off & that ginger scrumpy certainly went down a treat.<br />
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The following day we decided to take a drive to the next beach around the coast.<br />
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It turned out that that beach was called Mangakuri & although we've lived here for 30 years, we'd never heard of it before.<br />
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We foraged rosehips & sand dune baby potatoes!<br />
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Naked ladies seemed appropriately sited in the dunes.<br />
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As we traveled the unsealed country roads we came across a dear little very old church at Mangakuri.<br />
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We were amazed to find that it was open.<br />
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It seemed a bit peculiar to find thousands of dead flies all over the floor & we wondered if anyone had been here in recent months- years even!<br />
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Later I discovered that there had, in fact, been a delightful celebration only the previous weekend.<br />
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A gathering of a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/lovemangakuri/photos/pcb.1968841369910378/1968840439910471/?type=3&theater">House of Bishops</a> no less!</div>
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It's quite handy being the passenger & to be travelling at a sedate speed, so as not to miss a thing- so when I realised that the crunch & scrunch under the car wheels was the crushing of chestnuts I called for a halt & we were soon greeted by a keen little friend.<br />
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We gathered piles of enormous sweet chestnuts & walnuts just from the roadside as we passed through Waipari station.<br />
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The next beach is Pourerere. What an unexpected sight it was to see these three standing here gazing out to sea.<br />
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We had no idea the rich history tucked in to this sandy cove. For a young nation - this place is our grass roots.<br />
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We didn't like the beach itself very much. There's not the cosy community feel of Mangakuri. Pourerere felt plain & unwelcoming even though some of the landscape was starkly beautiful.<br />
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It wasn't until we were leaving that we discovered<br />
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a mysterious gateway with a sign about another old church. Like many before us (we were to later discover) we unsuspectingly wandered up through the old overgrown garden to see what we might find at the top....<br />
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oh-oh, the church had been sold & it was now someone's home.<br />
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Quickly we turned tail & scuttled back down to safety.</div>
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But, all was not lost, as directly across the road was yet another gate with a sign- "Pourerere Church Knoll"</div>
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So up the path we wandered- again...past the masses of stinking iris (Iris foetidissima)<br />
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& found a lovely little church graveyard<br />
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sun dial<br />
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..filled with interesting bits of local history.<br />
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Having learned of the wonderful healing benefits of elm recently I was intrigued to see this elm stump & how with a last fading pulse of vitality this old tree had woven itself a crown atop it's mortal wound.</div>
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What resilience!<br />
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We barely met another vehicle on these lovely back roads as we tiki-toured around.<br />
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We got back to Kairakau just in time to dash across the river at low tide </div>
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arrested by showers & rainbows in the journey</div>
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before scrambling up to the look out on the other side. </div>
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Flying home again...<br />
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we found mushrooms to add to our baby potatoes for our dinner.<br />
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On our gentle journey home the next day we stopped to forage the most delicious pears I have ever eaten.</div>
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And three different kinds of wild apples..<br />
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some that like to make nests.<br />
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The hawthorn berries were in abundance too, although they cannot be picked quickly- for the thorns.<br />
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The rich abundance we came home with we are still eating months later.<br />
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We can't wait to go back & explore the area again. This lovely <a href="https://www.bookabach.co.nz/holiday-accommodation/p20026007?noDates=true">old historic bach</a> has rather captured our hearts.<br />
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Perhaps we'll get to stay there, maybe we'll just picnic at the church knoll. However it all unfolds it'll be a grand adventure for sure, in this land we've come to love with all our hearts.<br />
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<br />Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-70579188204430269692019-03-28T22:58:00.000+13:002019-03-29T10:55:09.434+13:00A Sacred Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Over and over, this summer, we have gone to the land- Papatuanuku- the earth mother and over and over again she has welcomed, blessed and healed us. Her gifts are so many and generous- every day we learn new things about these offerings.</div>
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Just last Monday we headed back in to our beloved Esk valley to visit with the hawthorns we had seen. On the journey we discovered a whole forest of them- all lining a steep bank. </div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">We both experience a peculiar sensation of home-coming when amongst the hawthorns.</span><br />
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This darling little fantail visited with us while we picked a basket of ripe berries- beautiful heart nourishing medicine.</div>
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We had been entrusted with the knowledge of a sacred & secret river spot that we discovered to be truly magical & a perfect place for tea.<br />
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The yarrow, apple and spear mints were still in bloom. The butterflies and bees didn't seem to mind where the flowers were- even in a jar on our little table.<br />
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Such a glorious hot day for early autumn and of course we had to bring this adorable tepee to put up in the meadow.<br />
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The Esk river in summer is clear, clean and ever so serene.<br />
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In the arms of <span style="text-align: center;">Papatuanuku there is rest.</span><br />
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In the heat of the afternoon sun we swam in the cool waters.<br />
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We have gone out again and again to gather and to walk and to play. We have witnessed full moon rising<br />
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and breathtaking rainbows across the sea.<br />
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It is also through this time that we have come to understand, best expressed in the words of Ljeoma Umebinyuo, the Nigerian poet in her book Questions for Ada-<br />
<span style="color: #b45f06;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #b45f06;">"Bless the daughters who sat carrying the traumas of mothers. Who sat asking for more love and not getting any, carried themselves to light. Bless the daughters who raised themselves".</span><br />
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And so it is that we have come to realise that we have sat our whole lives carrying the traumas of mothers and barely living our own sacred lives. No longer will we tolerate the desecration of our precious lives by those whose hearts are filled with poison and whose mouths are filled with lies, whose unhealed wounds fester through to life's end. I cannot describe to you in words the full extent of the darkness and the evil that has been woven through our lives by those who should have loved us, but a day of reckoning for the their acts of desecration will surely come. I wish it weren't so, but it is true.<br />
And so, we have set about creating our own Mainland Island Reserve, like this one we visited a while back at Boundary Stream near Tutira.<br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(12, 52, 61);">We discovered when we arrived that a Mainland Island Reserve is a sanctuary with a special predator proof fence that protects the native species within </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(12, 52, 61);">and therefore provides a safe haven for them to thrive. </span><br />
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Like this darling little North Island robin.<br />
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And this precious man called Rob.<br />
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It was about this time that I came across another beautiful Maori concept- that of Whanaungatanga which means: well, familiness, really.<br />
1. (Noun) Relationship, kinship, a sense of family connection, a relationship through shared experiences which provides people with a sense of belonging. It develops as a result of kinship rights and obligations which also serve to strengthen each member of the kin group. It also extends to others that one develops a close familial friendship or reciprocal relationship."<br />
And that's when we realised that we were "the ones asking for more love and not getting any so carried ourselves to light." And it was as we came to <span style="text-align: center;">Papatuanuku that we experienced a deep sense of </span>Whanaungatanga- familiness, belonging.<br />
Suddenly we knew how precious we really were and that our lives are truly sacred and have been all along.<br />
So when we came across this beautiful video that embodies Whanaungatanga so perfectly, we both cried and cried knowing too, that our marriage was meant for such sacred blessing.<br />
And so it is.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="267" mozallowfullscreen="" src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/122068383" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="640"></iframe><br />
<a href="https://vimeo.com/122068383">Luana and Kane - Whanaungatanga</a> from <a href="https://vimeo.com/user7365182">Side Project</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br />
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<br />Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-10192567082429219722019-01-27T22:21:00.003+13:002019-01-27T22:22:20.188+13:00The Treasure of Hygge<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Being a human being doesn't feel very marvellous for many of us, much of the time. There are so many who carry sadness, trauma, grief, pain; who wrestle with depression, suicidality or even just misfitment- we've been abandoned, cast aside or we just don't belong where we got deposited in to life...& it hurts. Perhaps for no apparent reason at all, there are those who just haven't figured out who they're meant to be- a disconnection from true self occurs and there's just no spark or colour. As a by-product of such states- addictions, ocds and personality, eating and social disorders can arise. In the past we've locked such people in asylums- away from the "normal" world, casting them off as worthless to society or branding them unsolvable.</div>
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Of recent times, new theories have suggested that the remedy for the spectrum of addiction is simply- connection. Simplistically, that's not a bad concept- after all, the higher self hook-up (a primal form of connection) has been the basis for the AA programme from it's inception. But...<i>we've</i> come to discover, through our long healing journey, that there's a whole realm of something quite else- something so deep and wide and profoundly restorative that it way surpasses mere connection and truly begins to resolve the melancholy many of us experience. The essence of this something else is called Hygge. Hygge has been popularised through social media and the internet over recent years and it's certainly a very happy concept and lovely of Norway and Denmark to let the rest of world in on their secret, but here in New Zealand some of the Hygge characteristics just don't quite fit our climate or our style. If you look up "what is Hygge?" you'll find it described as "cosiness" most of all, along with lots of nice lists about woolie jumpers, hot chocolate, blazing fires and socks. More recently there's been a leaning towards the inclusion of decluttering and even a touch of minimalism. </div>
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(Of course you don't have to be bruised or squashed to live a Hygge life you can just be a perfectly regular human being!)</div>
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Then one day we woke up and realised that our whole lives are Hygge (Hoo-gah) in the most wonderful and charming sense of the word and concept.</div>
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We began to realise that connection alone had healed very little for us, but as we began to settle in to the feel and space of the authentic people we have finally unearthed and become, we also began to find and live in the rhythms of of <i>our </i>kind of Hygge- and it is, in fact, Sunshine Vintage life.</div>
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Sunshine Vintage Hygge means coming to everyday life with the eyes of a child. </div>
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And simply paying attention.</div>
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To see and notice the tiny blue forget-me-nots in spring and remember the sweetheart rose Cecile Brunner of my wedding bouquet- now nearly 40 years a memory.</div>
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In fact, Hygge is brimming over with nostalgia.</div>
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It means allowing ourselves to hold, value, create the tiny darling things that mean nothing to the consumeristic world, but speak to <i>our</i> tender hearts of peace, comfort, safety and innocence.<br />
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It means rustic, homemade nourishing food so that even date slice (caramel square, cheese scones- doesn't matter what it is) is not just a "treat" but a happily included, heart- warming part of the day, the tea party, the picnic or the- "I think I'll make myself a cuppa & have a slice of that".<br />
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Fruit juice made in to jellies and stored in jam jars in the fridge speak to our child hearts and make us feel nurtured and happy, yet truly nourish our guts too,<br />
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The seasons and the gifts that pour forth from them, lift our spirits and amaze us with their faithful provision. Every October and November we keep our eyes peeled for elderflowers. The inhalation of the scent of an elderflower immediately reminds our ragged souls that life is good, help is at hand, and that just as before- all will be well.<br />
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Queen Anne's Lace is a wild flower that is a special flowery friend to me and I am always so excited when I spot her unique little signature gift- the red heart at her centre "No reason", she says, "just because I love you".<br />
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Blankets and rugs- vintage, hand knitted or crocheted, op-shopped, gifted or handed down they are one of our favourite Sunshine Vintage Hygge treasures. We have piles and piles of them- all in different shades and colours.<br />
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They often have dear label stories like this Robinwul.<br />
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Even cemeteries can be quaint Hygeely places where peace is found and homemade <a href="https://anangelinthekitchen.blogspot.com/2018/12/elderflowers-jelly-fizz.html">elderflower champagne </a>is welcome.</div>
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There we may also find Heartsease, Johnny-Jump-Ups, Heart's Delight, Jack-Jump-Up-and-Kiss-Me.<br />
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A good farmer's market is a Hyggery kind of place where we might find connection, good conversation and Granny's Secret lettuces.<br />
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Light- all of it- sunrise, sunset, moon rise, "that certain kind of light" are all part of Hygge and how we see the world.<br />
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Garden rooms, small spaces, garden furniture, quirky toadstools, bouquets of wildflowers, vintage tablecloths and more old blankets- just in case it gets chilly, also warm our little hearts.<br />
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One of the artists that we loved the most out at the Wildflowers and Sculpture exhibition was Katie Whitcombe. Her work embodied a certain kind of Hygge. It was described in the brochure this way:<br />
"Katie's work encompasses the old and sometimes forgotten. Here she has worked on the tools of the trade- saws that cut down trees and help build homes, wheelbarrows that carried heavy loads, spades that helped dig holes for foundations or to plant life. These items now have a new purpose, to remind us of the history and the beauty that can still be held in forgotten objects."<br />
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Fabulous, delicious, colour-full, beautifully crafted food from Hapi at the Farmer's Market made us feel special and it was delicious shared at Christmas.<br />
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Picnics in the landscape where we find ourselves perennially warmly welcome...<br />
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and we are offered gifts of food and medicine wherever we go.<br />
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Gloriously scented rugosa roses are just exquisite and dry beautifully too.</div>
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Fragrance and over-the-topness is a quintessential part of a Hygge life.<br />
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Bothering to be so intricate and well formed- just because that's what you're here for- to be a rosebud pelargonium is quite astonishing. Even better that they each have such lovely provenance.<br />
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Touch- especially the hand of a grandchild- suspended in time as precious.<br />
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Learn to sniff and savour like a child.<br />
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And delight in water- a sprinkler found for $2 that brings us squealing joy with it's rhythms as it waters the lawn. </div>
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And delight in hearts made for human joy.</div>
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Shepherd's Purses whom most see as a weed, but can staunch bleeding and save a life.<br />
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Cats know how to do Hygge perfectly- you just make yourself right at home, even in someone else's house.<br />
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The warmth of Hygge can envelope us at any moment- it's often wrapped in beauty.<br />
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Be-bothered to make butter curls for a picnic in the park, is a Hyggery thing to do.<br />
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Especially when that picnic is in the middle of a park garden, under the indulgent eye of the just emerging magnolias.<br />
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Of course Hygge is also found in books, illustrations and beautiful art.<br />
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There's something about the quirky, the unusual that offers itself as a joke but it delicious and makes us smile. Their grandiose name is Rampicante.<br />
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That something can be repaired or mended is also comforting and offers the gift of reassurance.<br />
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Wandering in the landscape we find ourselves continually welcome.<br />
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And look there too is Hygge!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9bmanI9KXArt1o5UYIxiybL8lZlVxvXBMBoyeCNkR1E_88364UFbSDLWM5s6hKDM7BMZ1Uw4ohFR0RzqIqtVpOIuk_nmgzLN23viEB9USXvAXRR3wfpRDFF1dPsey1Sdy0jjc4wK6fJ4/s1600/DSCN3088.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9bmanI9KXArt1o5UYIxiybL8lZlVxvXBMBoyeCNkR1E_88364UFbSDLWM5s6hKDM7BMZ1Uw4ohFR0RzqIqtVpOIuk_nmgzLN23viEB9USXvAXRR3wfpRDFF1dPsey1Sdy0jjc4wK6fJ4/s640/DSCN3088.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
The Hygge cafe at Clifton describe Hygge this way:<br />
<strong style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: "Yanone Kaffeesatz"; letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #533c2f;">Hygge is a Danish term pronounced "Hue Guh".<br />It means the essence of what is good in this life.<br />WARMTH HAPPINESS ENJOYMENT COMFORT PEACE<br />Whether warmed by the fire or warmed by the heart.<br />~<br />The loving acceptance and enjoyment of the moment<br />alone or together, away or at home<br />ordinary or extraordinary<br />with family or friends.<br />~<br />We believe in creating a sense of comfort.<br /> The place you are in, the people you are with, is important to us, so we aim to create you a sanctuary.<br />We believe in celebrating and appreciating the seasons and look to making space to warm the heart.<br />~<br />Our food is sourced ethically and as much as we possibly can, organically.<br />Our decor is chosen with the feeling of home in mind and we hope it sparks joy with you.<br />~<br />Immerse yourself in the gift of the moment.</span></strong><br />
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Hygge is slow, nourishing comfort food<br />
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like roasted fig icecreeam<br />
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And a walk in the woods in early spring to gather wild violets</div>
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to make into this glorious <a href="https://anangelinthekitchen.blogspot.com/2018/09/violet-honey-syrup.html">violet honey syrup</a> that heals a sore throat so beautifully and tastes amazing and is kept in the freezer!</div>
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Hygge is peering in the window of home and knowing that the lights are on just for you.<br />
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For as <a href="https://www.facebook.com/anna.b.mcneill">Brigitt Anna O'Neill</a> urges us:<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;">"....Find the emptiness inside and fill it with love, rest, plans, inspiration and adventure.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;">Fill it with life!"</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cc0000;">Go!...</span><br />
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<br />Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-67878577813660087662019-01-21T22:50:00.000+13:002019-01-21T22:50:45.013+13:00Finding Our Way Home- An Angel in the SunshineI am so glad that my little blog is still just here, like a faithful dog- patiently waiting for my return. An angel in the garden saved my life, really...when I think about it. It was right here that I figured out who I was truly meant to be. And just like all great relationships, things change & we grow.<br />
My last post here was pretty ragged & raw.<br />
Life was very hard.<br />
But through the grittiness & the challenges we've gone deep- my love & I .<br />
We've been brave & persistent. We've done the sifting, refining work & we've evolved through this time- emerging in to the people we were always meant to be.<br />
We are looking at each other in wonder these days & seeing the fresh new people that we have become, with grateful hearts. I firmly believe that there is an authentic self in all of us & that it is our job to unearth that beloved one from the layers of our family history, shapings of society and wrong turnings that we make- to bring home that genuine soul- the reason why we are here. Perhaps that's our only job.<br />
Life is either a series of grand & small adventures lived day by day or it's just not worth living.<br />
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And for much of my life it just wasn't- worth living, that is.</div>
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Until...I came home to herbs and a relationship with the land.</div>
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Not just growing flowers and keeping a garden, but going out in to the landscape and realising that the land is truly, vibrantly alive- just like we are. The seasons come and then they go and always the land is offering us gifts and opportunities for gathering food and finding healing leaves and trees and spaces. Her steady generosity overwhelms me with it's very magnanimity. </div>
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All we have to do is show up- that's it!</div>
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On an adventure down River road a month or so ago, I discovered a whole fence line of rugosa roses- their fragrance heady & sensuous, but also wonderfully healing. </div>
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I've made a glorious tincture from the fragrant petals- oh what glory!</div>
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I've been taking notice of the flowers that the bees and butterflies love to visit<br />
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and it surprised me to find that the dahlias are quite so beloved.<br />
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I've discovered that I love to learn by asking a million questions every day and just trying new ideas- too bad if they don't work out or I can't pronounce it- just laugh & keep going.<br />
I sowed 50 cents worth of oat seed in to an old hot water tank down in the back garden in winter, by late spring I was able to harvest the milky oats to make a tincture- so gloriously green and ever so healing to the nervous system.<br />
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As we have ventured out into the landscape we have both found a sense of anchorage and belonging. Taking a picnic with us wherever we go allows us to explore and wild craft happily as we make ourselves at home.</div>
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And it's the gifts that get me the most- like finding these ripe kawakawa fruit out at Waipatiki beach just recently. It's said that they pair very well with chocolate. I can tell you that that's quite true- the anise hyssop and Texas tarragon are also a lovely edition.<br />
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The very best and most unexpected thing is finding that my dear husband loves to wildcraft too- a surprise to us both. How fitting that he has found Self Heal.</div>
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Honeysuckle growing wild by the river at Sacred Hill in the Dartmoor valley was the perfect grace note for this picnic.<br />
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Folklore says that Queen Anne's Lace will thrive in the garden of a woman that is true to herself.<br />
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Ever inspired by the landscape artist Sabine de Barra and the scene of the Wishing Tree in the movie <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ENSjt4naxlE">A Little Chaos</a> I refashioned this little installation once again. It brings me so much joy with it's sense of whimsy. <br />
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We've been eating colourful and wonderful food.</div>
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Gloriously beautiful food makes eating so much more satisfying!</div>
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We've even been to the bi-annual <a href="https://www.wildflowersculpture.com/the-exhibition/">Wildflower and Sculpture exhibition</a> </div>
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held in the Russell's magnificent garden to raise money for our local Hospice.<br />
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We've also picnicked in the old Napier cemetery again and oh what a joy the wild flowers are!<br />
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We've learnt to make new things like <a href="https://anangelinthekitchen.blogspot.com/2018/12/elderflowers-jelly-fizz.html">elderflower fizz</a>.<br />
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And it was there that we realised that the metamorphosis had truly happened, at last.</div>
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But still a flower girl.</div>
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40 years later- after all these years of being together we headed out to Clifton to spend some time <a href="https://www.cliftonglamping.co.nz/">glamping</a> at Clifton Station. </div>
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What a wonderful adventure we had</div>
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despite the rain!</div>
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And look who else was there- our beloved elderflowers!<br />
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And sweet wild dog roses- rosa canina.<br />
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Goodness and now it's mid-summer and it's time to harvest the elder-berries & keep an eye out for the rose hips. The more that we go to the land, the more the past sloughs off and the more peaceful our lives become.</div>
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Full moon tonight.<br />
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Believing for a long Indian summer time in our lives.</div>
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Seems about time to write <a href="https://anangelinthesunshine.blogspot.com/">An angel in the Sunshine</a>- there's so much to learn each day and so much to record and share. Pop on over any time if you're interested in finding out more about learning how to gather and use the plants around you for food and medicine.</div>
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Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-29797002418530515342017-08-21T17:37:00.001+12:002017-08-21T23:12:52.696+12:00A Story to Tell<div style="text-align: justify;">
I have been away again a long time & I am sad about that.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I have tried to write many times this year, but my stories were too odd, too strained & one time, all that I had written, just up & disappeared.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So I have waited, hoping that some sweetness would eventually arrive.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But it hasn't.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I look up & find that it is already August. This year has unfolded in the most unexpected & peculiar ways. I have had no control over events & for the 29th year in a row, no choice what-so-ever about the impact of the family chaos & dysfunction we have found ourselves embroiled in, yet again.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But it has come to me today, quite clearly, that it is time to tell our story.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The tale of almost four decades of love & struggle.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Whether anyone else understands, is offended or judges me for doing so, no longer matters.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But first of all, let me tell you what derailed everything.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Right at the beginning of the year- Rob had some unexpected contact from his elder brother Roy. Unexpected because...the last time he wrote to Rob, 12 years ago, he had a great deal to say (without ever having talked to his brother, I might add) which included:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #20124d;">"<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">I may have backslidden
somewhat, but I can assure you that I have more Christian values in my big toe
than you have in your entire body, in fact, your entire family. I am ashamed to
call you “My Brother” and in fact, the creature that you have become is no
longer my brother. The real Rob, the brother that I loved, the young boy in the
picture below, is Dead. I will get a china urn and fill it with ashes from my
next camp fire, and I will put your name on a plaque to be hung around the neck
of the urn, to remind me of the brother who was. This urn will take its place
next to the urn and box containing the ashes of our dog “Silo”...</span></span></div>
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His previous email, 5 years prior to this, also expressed his enormous angst & deep disgust that he held towards his brother & he told him that he would leave it 10 years & then maybe check in again after that & see if there was any change (also written without actually seeing Rob in person or having a conversation with him).</div>
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<!--StartFragment--><!--EndFragment-->Needless to say, there was no response required to such announcements.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But here Roy was, contacting Rob after all these years & announcing that he forgave him (well kind of- with conditions), having recently re-dedicated his "life to The Lord" (for the third time) & with some pretty sharp-pointy-stick prompting from his best friends- he had arrived on the email doorstep. Then with a little straight talk & grace on Rob's part, a civil conversation was begun, a Pacific cruise taken by Roy (with his mother) & a Church conference attended in Auckland. Whilst sitting through the weekend, Roy began to complain of a sore back. Eventually, with his mother's insistent prompting, he agreed to head to the hospital to have himself checked out, where-upon he was instantly admitted, soon suffered a massive cerebral seizure & at that point was rendered unconscious; only to die 3 days later. He did have a history of recurring melanoma so it wasn't entirely a surprise, but none-the-less abrupt & unexpected, especially if you haven't "seen" him for well over 17 years.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Having created some significant buffering for ourselves over the last decade, from family dynamics, we were unprepared for the impact that abrupt loss brings & found ourselves navigating some bumpy weather- plenty of unpredictable & unexpected emotions & some very peculiar situations thrown in to the mix. When Rob made his way back to his family home to be with his mother & younger brother & to say goodbye to Roy, he suddenly found that there was no room at the inn- as a strange woman (that he'd never heard of in his life before) was sleeping in his old bedroom. She announced that she was his brother's "adopted" daughter (with 6 children of her own) & set about organising everything & every-body as if she'd, in fact, been a part of the family all along. So, within the whirling dervish of chaos that this death has wrought, we find ourselves uncomfortably facing the past, the present, the unresolved, the things we never knew, the things we will now never know & the bare-faced truth about a disordered family that was set on a path of self-disintegration many years ago. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #bf9000;">I read <a href="http://ideas.ted.com/the-two-kinds-of-stories-we-tell-about-ourselves/">here</a> today- "We are all storytellers...engaged in an <span lang="EN-US">“</span>act of creation<span lang="EN-US">”</span> of the <span lang="EN-US">“</span>composition of our lives.<span lang="EN-US">”</span> Yet
unlike most stories we’ve heard, our lives don’t follow a predefined arc. Our
identities and experiences are constantly shifting, and storytelling is how we
make sense of it. By taking the disparate pieces of our lives and placing them
together into a narrative, we create a unified whole that allows us to
understand our lives as coherent <span lang="EN-US">—</span> and coherence,
psychologists say, is a key source of meaning."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I am not certain that in writing our narrative there will come a coherence, but I do know that it has come the time to tell the story of "The Marriage"- this union, that has a life & a tale all of it's own. I have shared so much loveliness & beauty in the last 7 years & that is all still true & certain, but sometimes there is more- so much more & in that place of other-life there is a cutting, a loneliness & a despair, a malaise & a chaos that persists.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Here I sit- aged 56, yet I don't feel any age at all. What I do feel, is that inside of me, still lives a wee girl, a ghost of a girl- called Katie.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLzClbo-LeFJonj1tLkvlrOngHWhrqIO-_gY9cl9dQKweHtnO4fqZSci0ARYKflgVa6Yp3vGQ1MakSYyb5NN8dJqks55ewaXN2gbh6aBiYwILORUO6wLGP4Z0w62Y9j4bPPoO1A4xwt1g/s1600/DSCN8892+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLzClbo-LeFJonj1tLkvlrOngHWhrqIO-_gY9cl9dQKweHtnO4fqZSci0ARYKflgVa6Yp3vGQ1MakSYyb5NN8dJqks55ewaXN2gbh6aBiYwILORUO6wLGP4Z0w62Y9j4bPPoO1A4xwt1g/s400/DSCN8892+%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
She is sweet, shy, innocent & so very, very sad. Trauma changes the souls & brains of little children. It is never their fault, nor can they fix themselves. Children are not made of elastic like everybody says. That is a convenient fabrication. We are fragile & malleable & precious & we deserve to be loved & protected- always. My Nan would always say of the hard things (like her children getting pregnant out of wedlock)- "It's just one of those things that shouldn't have happened", in her deep gruff voice. Those words never helped. And it did happen & I was entrusted to a mother that cried the whole week of her own honeymoon in despair, & there-after had one foot out the door either emotionally or practically most days. She was sad & depressed & desperate & trapped (mostly in herself) the whole 6 years that I knew her. The last time I saw her as a child, she was almost dead & it wasn't until this year, age 56, that I realised that I had always carried the burden of guilt that if my mother wanted to leave so badly, it was my fault. I knew she was very sick & I didn't grieve for her & I didn't blame her when she left.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The next two years (rather peculiarly) were the happiest years of my childhood- the two years that my father was waiting on his divorce before my "new mother" could be installed. There was a calmness & a gentleness about that time that was never to be repeated. My father caught me watching television through the crack in my bedroom door one evening, but instead of growling he invited me out to watch the Avengers with him & that became the pattern that was both kind & comforting to me, at that time. I also recall seeing someone making a cake on television- a fruitcake, I thought perhaps that I could make one too. I stored the recipe in my head (all of age 7/8) & then asked Dad & his flatmate Geoff whether I added the eggs in to the mix with their shells on or off-as the instructions were to add 3 "whole" eggs. They said they weren't sure & not wanting to do it wrong, I added 3 eggs- shell & all! They happily ate my rock cake, spitting out the bits of shell as they went, while I concluded that I should probably take the shells off next time.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But that's the thing about dysfunction, it doesn't come along waving banners & telling you that it has arrived. There is no family barometer sitting on the wall so you can figure out how you're doing & whether you've tipped in to crazy, odd or toxic. Narcissistic personality disorder didn't even have a name back then & hitting, kicking & screaming abuse at your "adopted" step-children wasn't even against the law. It's an interesting thought to ponder that perhaps trauma survivors have (or end up with) symptoms instead of memories.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
By the time I turned 16, things were so bad that I would cry all the way to school & all the way home again. That household was all ice-cold withdrawals, punishing silences for weeks on end, torrid strip downs with the white water word hose, that left me in emotional sobbing tatters of worthlessness time after time; no fairness, nor borders, no respect, only egg shells, broken glass & contempt. Not once did I see a difference of opinion worked out with skill or even basic decency. And my opinion- was never asked for, nor sort- except when my father needed a confidante, a captive shoulder to lean on when his marriage hit the wall, yet again.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I knew I just had to get out of there, but I also had almost no self confidence or sense of personal worth & no idea about how I would live life out in the world on my own. I left early the following year & headed to Wellington to start my School Dental Nurse training. My father then made an uncharacteristic intervention in my life, toward the end of that first year & organised for me to go with a Youth for Christ group that were heading to Samoa to build a house. It was the late 1970's & there were a lot of pentecostal christian happenings going on. The actual "team" volunteered from all around New Zealand & first got together at the Baptist church in Miramar Wellington, to plan the house building & ministry in November 1978. I walked across the city from the Dental Nurses' hostel, up the stairs & "saw' Rob for the very first time. That moment, both our lives changed forever. Our romance was improbable & according to all & sundry, entirely ill advised. But we soon recognised that we had been given something unique & precious & that was all that mattered.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Early the following year I turned 18 & I found myself taking an overnight, 13 hour train journey to Auckland, to meet Rob's family. His mother took a vehement (but covert) disliking to me from the moment that she met me. That first evening she insisted that we all go to the movies together, which would have been ok if I'd been invited, but it was all decided around me- <u>we would be</u> going to a double billing screening of two science-fiction movies. I abhor science fiction & I said so & that I would rather just stay home while they all went out together & I was very polite. However, I was pressed ganged & silenced & off we all went. I had nightmares for a very long time after that. The next morning I woke to find that I had been bitten on my eyelid by a mosquito while I slept & my eye was so swollen I couldn't see a thing out of it. But I had fallen in love with a man, not a family & I didn't think much more of it on my return to Wellington.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It was in this period that Rob moved to a flat in Auckland over in the Eastern Bays & he discovered that my estranged mother was living " just around the corner". We made arrangements to visit her together- a flat & unremarkable event. On my return to Wellington I received a letter stating that my mother never wanted to see me again, although she was "there" should I ever really need her. So that was the end of that! </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Fortunately when I graduated Rob came to be with me, as my parents shot through without even asking if I needed a hand (since I didn't have a car, nor my license) to get the 6 hours to Manaia- a 3 pub, 800 people town in South Taranaki, where I had been sent to. However, I soon received a letter from my father (not checking to see how I was doing & sending his love) but instead, damning me to hell for "shacking up" with Rob who had bothered to look after me & get me to my destination safely. Rob eventually left his job in Auckland with Telecom to come & be with me & got a job in the laundry & later as an orderly in Ward One, at the local hospital. We married in December 1980 when my parents could "fit us in" but instead of feeling treasured & beautiful on my wedding day, I couldn't even bear to look at my father after the hounding he'd given me the night before for "not pulling my weight" & helping out enough in the day leading up to my wedding.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Rob & I soon fell in love with a wee run down house in Hawera with a large over-grown garden that friends from church were renting & managed to purchase it for $14,000! We lived a simple life & "grew up" in those nine years living together in Hawera. Anna was born in 1983 & I felt strong & confident as we started a-fresh, creating a family of our own with wholesome values of love, nourishing food & make-do-and-mend. I joined La Leche League, fully, happily breast-fed & made lots of lovely friends through the AOG church we were attending.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And then Matthew was born...& there was yelling.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This poor little boy arrived in to this world & he hated it- everything about it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And everyone said- "It's got to be the mother's fault".</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
After months of being on call day & night & with very little respite, I was exhausted & starting to see the first signs of depression set in. At church I was instructed to breastfeed in the toilets only if I was going to insist on nursing my baby past 9 months. I was soon labelled rebellious for not submitting to the authority of the Pastor's wife! Things deteriorated from there & we soon realised that it was time to leave Taranaki.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Rob wanted to remain in hospital work & had applied three times to do the one year enrolled nursing course while we were still living in Taranaki & each time had been rejected. He bravely enrolled in a night class & upped his English skills by passing school C & then later UE English. By the time we moved I was pregnant with David. Once we arrived here in Hawke's Bay, Rob was soon accepted to the full three year nursing course at EIT. We had imagined that being in Hastings would be a good thing as my step mother had been kind & helpful when our first two children were born, however, this was not to be, as she & my father had fresh ambitions & headed off to America for a 6 week holiday over the time that David was born. We were clearly inconvenient & worse than annoying & found ourselves utterly rejected & unceremoniously dumped- all of us. David was still a new-born when my father decided to stand for Parliament- having not even visited the new baby, I suddenly found myself being castigated for not getting out there & door knocking in support & was emphatically told, that if I did indeed want to know him as my father, I would <u>have</u> to get involved (fully) with whatever he was doing. Having not had a single whole night sleep in Matthew's first three years of life, now looking after a new baby & all the changes that our move had wrought, this landslide of rejection was just all too much for me & by the time that David was 18 months old, my health completely collapsed & I was to lose my entire prime adult life to ill health & emotional trauma from that point.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When David was 4 we found a nice little church where we liked the people & the people liked us, but tragically, what we did not realise, was that we had arrived at a time in the church history where the whole thing was about to collapse & we ended up being caught in the rubble & the consequences, some years down the line.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My father continued to get married a lot & my brother's first two marriages failed as well. The endless turmoil & instability; the endings & losses & heartaches caused us all a great deal of distress as a family. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Peg Streep talks about the five things that the unloved daughter feels in childhood over<a href="https://blogs.psychcentral.com/knotted/2016/01/5-things-an-unloved-daughter-feels-in-childhood/"> here.</a> </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
She says that these are common feelings experienced by the daughter's of unloving mothers & are all part of the emotional legacy:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
1) That she is unlovable.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
2) That she is isolated & alone.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
3) That it's her fault.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
4) That she might be crazy.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
5) Deeply fearful & insecure.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But, what I have come to find, is that these feelings are also commonly experienced by anyone who has been exposed to (or been part of) a disordered or faulty family. So although the traumatic events that I experienced as a young child & the subsequent loss of my mother & the divorce of my parents deeply effected me alone, the patterns of disorder only grew deeper & more complex as the years went by, culminating most intensely in the decade where Rob was working as a registered nurse in the Children's ward, our children were navigating adolescence, my health remained severely challenged, there were peculiar dysfunctions in the churches we attended & every part of the various family affiliations escalated in to unfettered chaos. It was during this time that chaos & deep distress became part of the fabric of our own family & then weird & awful things started happening that could not be explained. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It was as if a dragon was stirring. Our world became a scary, turbulent & unsafe place to be.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Reactions to life & me, began to arise in Rob that hadn't been present before & I knew we had to address them if any of us were to survive. Katie (the wee innocent one) was utterly terrified & confused & became increasingly distraught. Catherine determined to unearth the truth & find a way to safety for us all, but it was to take many, many years.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Rob was born to English parents who had both fled England & randomly arrived in Kenya in the late 1940's. Once there, they met, married & had two sons four years apart. The little family & Nangy (grandmother) left Nairobi at the time of the Mau Mau up-risings & took passage by boat to arrive in New Zealand with all their worldly possessions in 1963. After a time in a caravan park & rented housing, they built a house in West Auckland & had another son 10 years after Rob was born. Rob's elder brother didn't stay with the family long & soon shot off to sea at the age of 16. He eventually met a woman who was a working ship girl at that time & married her & made a home in Australia with her & her troubled son. The tragedy of her life remains too much for me to bare even now- although we were never friends. Her German father died of a fatal heart attack at the age of 54, her mother soon after, walked in to a river & drowned herself. At 22 her only son died of a drug & alcohol overdose & all through this time she received one tragic personal health diagnosis after another. She didn't reach 60 before bowel cancer ended her life too. So when Rob's brother died so suddenly at the age of 64 earlier this year, that just added to the deeply tragic story.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The younger brother was born "not quite right" & never managed very well at school. He was pretty amiable & was enterprising enough, but took the brunt of his father's unceasing cantankerous angst- whose health had also collapsed & was becoming increasingly drawn in to a fascination with the might & power of the Third Reich. A great deal of hate, anger & rage swirled around the family home. When Rob was 17 both he & his mother "got saved" which was to divide the family rather effectively. Rob joined a Church & a christian band & became very close to his mother, his father gathered an ever increasing array of Nazi memorabilia which he stored in the roof (attic) of the house. The younger brother married young, had three children, attended church with his mother while also using, growing & selling cannabis over a 20 year period. Not long after this point, his marriage failed. Everyone around him was traumatised by the break up of the family, yet his mother continued to protect & defend her precious, faultless, impeachable son.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In the early 2000's it suddenly surfaced that there was much more going on in the broader family dynamic than met the eye. We woke up to realise that an attic full of Nazi stuff was not necessarily a healthy thing, especially in light of all the hatred & chaos that had become part of the family interface & we attempted to initiate a conversation with Rob's parents about the situation. Our attempts to communicate were stone-walled & we were labelled trouble makers. It didn't take long for me to be made the official family scapegoat & I was ostracised at every turn. Just recently my (ex) sister-in-law shared with me that our mother-in-law had "trained them all to hate us" over many years- & they did! It was at this juncture that a pattern settled in to our lives where every birthday was sabotaged, every holiday ruined- as Rob would return to work only to find that in his absence a complaint had been made about him & he now had to face disciplinary action. He became the target of an intense bullying campaign by the charge nurse & was eventually forced out of the hospital (even though he won the subsequent mediation process). At this point I had to scoop up my broken husband, quite literally out of the gutter & try & put him back together after a complete nervous break down.</div>
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But I run a head of myself. The year that we realised the destruction that Rob's father's obsession with Hitler had wrought in all our lives & we tried to bring it to light & talk about it our daughter ended up in a near fatal accident & her car was written off, Matthew was admitted to hospital with suspected meningitis but it turned out to be HSP, his cousin almost died from a meningococcal infection, David broke his leg, Rob was facing continual unsubstantiated complaints at work & I was utterly terrified. And there was more- from here on every time that Rob's mother would write a letter or send something by post we would know, because all hell would break loose in our household &/or awful things would start happening again & then....lo & behold a letter would arrive. It got to be so bad that one day I refused to take the letter inside until Rob got home- so meantime, I pegged it up in tree. Eventually we pleaded with his mother to please stop sending things as we were so scared & distressed, but she refused to listen or even discuss it & it was at this point that her campaign to get rid of me started in earnest & she began to feed all of our correspondence to Rob's older brother & when she had riled him up enough she set him on us like a dog.</div>
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Somewhere in all this Felicia's heart started giving her trouble & she eventually underwent a quadruple heart by-pass. That means everything- <u>everything</u> was so blocked up, her heart simply could not function without immediate surgical intervention! Tragically there is soooo such more to this story but I will just summarise the last bits- Rob's father died as he had lived- badly & painfully after much time in hospital & many surgeries; with a colostomy bag & little dignity. He passed away 9 years ago & it was only after weeks of searching, that his wife found his will (that Rob had organised for him) scrunched up in the bottom of an old cardboard box. We thought that we might find peace, after he was gone & things did shift in some ways, but there was more to come, that we did not know about. </div>
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As a christian of 40 years standing, Rob's mother has always had her little mantras like "God never fails" & "Trust in the Lord with all your heart & lean not unto your own understanding" & "always look at the beautiful person inside" (although that one never applied to me). But it wasn't until Rob's brother died in March & he was back in full contact with her & the ghastliness started up all over again- itchy rash, seriously sprained ankle, painful teeth, awful feelings, outbursts & jittery stuff that we realised (as I had always known) that some human beings are capable of asserting their will & antagonism on you even from a distance <u>&</u> it can cause great harm. I think secretly she must have been to Hogwort school- truly! </div>
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Gentle dialogue was tried once more, but the door of the heart is still firmly, obstinately shut. However, Rob is now fully awake. After all these years, his mother can no longer wreak havoc in our marriage or through our lives & we are gathering up the poor dear souls that we are & starting over again with the healing & recovery process.</div>
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I love <a href="https://www.facebook.com/SOULSHAPING/?ref=br_rs">Jeff Brown's writing</a>. He shared this just the other day- </div>
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"So many people get judged when they refuse to put their pain
away. They get judged for showing it, for speaking it, for insisting on sharing
their memories of abuse with those they know. I am not talking about those who
overwhelm strangers with their stuff- I am talking about legitimate sharings
with those they are connected with in daily life, including those who abused
them. All too often, they are fed one repressive message or another: <span lang="EN-US">“</span>Don't look back,<span lang="EN-US">” “</span>What's done is done,<span lang="EN-US">” “</span>Don't be a victim,<span lang="EN-US">” “</span>Your feelings
are an illusion,<span lang="EN-US">” “</span>Be strong.<span lang="EN-US">”</span>
What is ironic about this is that those who insist on embodying and expressing
their feelings are actually the brave ones- unwilling and unable to live a
false life. Their stuff is breaking through their defences because they are
tired of carrying the weight of buried truths. They want a healthier and more
authentic life. Those who seek to shame their revealing are actually less
courageous- turning to repressive mantras in an effort to bypass their own
unresolved feelings and memories. If they can shut others down, they can remain
shut down themselves. But shut down doesn't take us anywhere good. If we don't
deal with our stuff, it deals with us. Speak UP!"</div>
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So have I have spoken up...because it is exactly the right time to do that. I have become a <i>disruptive truth teller</i> in the process because it is also time to challenge the old paradigms of dysfunction in our families & communities. It is time that things changed & those of us who have been trapped in trauma came out of the darkness & found belonging & love & light.</div>
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It is <u>our time</u> to live- really live & to heal, from so much abuse & pain & the effects of other people's chaos.</div>
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A friend told me the other day about Rudolph Steiner's teachings; of how he believed there to be twelve senses.</div>
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The first of which is life- the sense of life.</div>
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That seems like a very good place to begin our healing....</div>
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Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-49635524202088798122017-02-03T22:43:00.000+13:002017-06-27T23:19:08.929+12:00Reel Therapy and Red Shoes <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Thank you so much everyone for the support and encouragement that you gave me after I wrote my <a href="http://anangelinthegarden.blogspot.co.nz/2017/01/upon-reflection.html">last post</a>, I so very much appreciate your love, kindness & friendship.</div>
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It's interesting how powerful family can be. Even the concept of family can be a binding/blinding force in our lives & all that comes with it- joy, love, connection, duty, shame, embarrassment or blessing.</div>
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I know many people hold an unwavering belief in the importance of family & family loyalty, once you're signed up- it's for life. But for some of us, family can seem more like a life sentence of disenchantment, disenfranchisement, loneliness & damage. Even so, there's a yearning in most of us to make sense of who we are & where we have come from. It's often not until we put the pieces together & grow a fresh perspective that we can make the right decisions about our own lives & understand which bits we can make peace with, which to screw up & burn, & those parts worth embracing with all our hearts. One of the most useful ways that we have found through the years to put our stories in to right focus, has been through 'reel therapy". We discovered early on that we have the same taste in movies & television & it just so happened that last year Rob went searching through libraries & various places online for programmes & "reels" that we might both enjoy viewing. As it turned out, this has been one of the most powerful perspective shifters we could ever have chosen. It was like understanding our history by being there in person. One of our absolute favourites is a British series called Home Fires: </div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Based on Jambusters: The Story of the Women's Institute in the Second World War by Julie Summers, Home Fires follows the exploits of a group of inspirational women in a rural Cheshire community. They may be far from the front and the fighting, but the shadow of the Second World War has cast a dark cloud over their lives.</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">With their husbands, fathers, sons and brothers experiencing bloodshed on the battlefields, the women band together to prevent their world falling apart."</span><span style="color: #5b9bd5; font-family: "book antiqua";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When we begin to understand the forces, events & nuances of history that have served to shape our own families of origin & therefore our present lives, in more compassionate, objective ways there is a certain peace that sneaks in & settles us down, envelopes us in an old feather eiderdown & whispers "there, there". A fresh gratitude for the opportunities, gifts & abundance that we have received in our own generation, arrives. And this is a very good thing. It has quite a different effect </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">than the stories handed down through family members- many of which are stuck & lopsided.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXj_5PuEG54JRR9rAg74AnPV9zOjcmaXVaY77LvmGoHAARVRu8vZRkw0PUH0vFk9aVBEmo19rEKpzqLUgkhtIgwCv9vxBVHgcOX50MqVQwzmpdusgWzH_37UrMdu_RnwiTkVrjENv42Xw/s1600/HOME_FIRES_EP1_21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXj_5PuEG54JRR9rAg74AnPV9zOjcmaXVaY77LvmGoHAARVRu8vZRkw0PUH0vFk9aVBEmo19rEKpzqLUgkhtIgwCv9vxBVHgcOX50MqVQwzmpdusgWzH_37UrMdu_RnwiTkVrjENv42Xw/s400/HOME_FIRES_EP1_21.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhApcvxXDVvxpcwV4FwEFJepkEl53p9TjiPjksN8HO7iJwYD6GN56UU67w-UoV7jaZebaozLWlyqVUfELmRblwvWNtp29NPsG2Wl0N_CZhzc_i64ixhVgLMp9tsjD7Ww0PIHrvlQRTf-I/s1600/Masterpiece_Home_Fires_EP1_1_t700.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhApcvxXDVvxpcwV4FwEFJepkEl53p9TjiPjksN8HO7iJwYD6GN56UU67w-UoV7jaZebaozLWlyqVUfELmRblwvWNtp29NPsG2Wl0N_CZhzc_i64ixhVgLMp9tsjD7Ww0PIHrvlQRTf-I/s400/Masterpiece_Home_Fires_EP1_1_t700.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><span style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It is interesting to observe that, together through the years, we have grounded ourselves by instinctively recreating the values &</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> down-to-earthness </span></span><span style="text-align: start;">resourcefulness<span style="font-family: inherit;"> that we discovered in these programmes. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><a href="http://www.foyleswar.com/" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: start;">Foyle's War</a><span style="font-family: inherit; text-align: start;"> is another series that we love passionately.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxOh29Pmk2QmIHMMIyAIuQWrrx8Bud-Tu_oECLadst8HOPe5M2j1e00BrmIhLmynA1_JhM_tL3eT6FOHJpQkd0Gpp6oY7bsinr96T5pjsGGWqmOZ5TxIvwJip7GVHxZo-RXOZbA_oDwIc/s1600/foyles_sr01_ep03_splash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxOh29Pmk2QmIHMMIyAIuQWrrx8Bud-Tu_oECLadst8HOPe5M2j1e00BrmIhLmynA1_JhM_tL3eT6FOHJpQkd0Gpp6oY7bsinr96T5pjsGGWqmOZ5TxIvwJip7GVHxZo-RXOZbA_oDwIc/s400/foyles_sr01_ep03_splash.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><span style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When things go </span>awry<span style="font-family: inherit;"> in families the mess & consequences can be huge. We can often end up feeling dis-connected, unsupported, alone & plain not good enough. We can try way too long & hard to find a </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">sense of belonging & safety in our families of origin when, in fact, if we could only see that our legacy cards were just never going to match up or </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">overlap beyond blood, we would then be free to walk away from the expectation of finding love & fulfilment there. You know the saying "Oh look, aren't they just peas-in-a-pod?'</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqwWu_dCsmRDFhBh27Op17NSoWxSDzYLAtst6d0aEuevGcnahUjkAGXcy9jbdhyYE2-S5MRzn14cKyIvtF93IcRrpT0t4rJxkO3XL1ha7SBYKOSSoHrIa0oty1Njh9PO09auA_93E4OZE/s1600/peas+in+a+pod.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqwWu_dCsmRDFhBh27Op17NSoWxSDzYLAtst6d0aEuevGcnahUjkAGXcy9jbdhyYE2-S5MRzn14cKyIvtF93IcRrpT0t4rJxkO3XL1ha7SBYKOSSoHrIa0oty1Njh9PO09auA_93E4OZE/s640/peas+in+a+pod.jpg" width="378" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: inherit;"> & other times it's- "Where ever did she come from- the milk man?" Well that's all quite true- sometimes the apples drop all nice & neatly around the tree & other times, oh my goodness, we are not sure what kind of fruit we even are & neither does anybody else around us. So what do we do? </span></div>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">A really great place to start is in allowing our old well rehearsed ways of seeing things to dissolve & along with it, a great deal of pain & frustration.</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">This short Danish video is a perfect example of what I mean.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;">If we are no longer backing the wrong horse & permit ourselves to see the world in fresh ways, we will be ready to open our eyes & hearts to new connections, friendships & ways of belonging.</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Life is a little like a game of snap -sometimes we serendipitously meet someone & when we turn over the next life card we both cry "snap"! & in that moment we are also both found & seen.</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Last year I came across Elizabeth Mortlock. I have never met her in person, but just by seeing this "reel story" I feel a kinship, a connection & a sense of joy that I didn't have before.</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"> I adore her.</span><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="true" allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="315" scrolling="no" src="https://www.facebook.com/plugins/video.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2Fmaraeinvestigates%2Fvideos%2F1030342103710911%2F&show_text=0&width=560" style="border-style: none; overflow: hidden;" width="560"></iframe><br />
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Some 27 years ago now I met my very dear friend Cheryl. From that first moment to this, even though we lead very different lives, we always "see" each other when we get together. Cheryl gave me a gift 6 years ago that was delivered in the shape of a card, but was in truth, a golden key that was to unlock my life purpose. The card said Angel in my garden.<br />
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This Christmas I received another shiny, perfect gift, from Jude- this little book called Ruby Red Shoes by Kate Knapp. From the minute I held it in my hands, I found myself both enthralled & exhilarated- here was my new life story written in a childrens' book. Jude saw me when she picked up the book- the seeing & the book, both exquisite gifts.<br />
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Babushka Galushka encourages Ruby to be an aware hare, treating everyone's feelings, as well as her own with great care.</div>
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"Feelings are just like delicate bird's eggs," she would say. </div>
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"Be as gentle as you can with them".</div>
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Ruby enjoys little naps in the cool grass.</div>
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Often she daydreams, watching the breeze tickling the leaves or hurrying lazy clouds through the powdery blue sky. </div>
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Ruby Red Shoes lives in prettily painted caravan...with a very sweet & kind man.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgycb5wix746pHNLZna9Iuxvh3UCiVttOBE-y4C8iwluZeqFNJV7PlyYFa3GPCdTO4m2mKL4SFh-L9XHx5rvqvkNCt0GJ1Hgi0jc3IDvzoXYVOEH37AQLtaw49-menmZuwWcvLJv4JLeH0/s1600/DSCN1407.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgycb5wix746pHNLZna9Iuxvh3UCiVttOBE-y4C8iwluZeqFNJV7PlyYFa3GPCdTO4m2mKL4SFh-L9XHx5rvqvkNCt0GJ1Hgi0jc3IDvzoXYVOEH37AQLtaw49-menmZuwWcvLJv4JLeH0/s640/DSCN1407.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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And shares her happy Sunshine Vintage life with all who pass by.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC-SoSdTbVCqAlaska6DUURolgeuxZmMTqU4fW47JvjZikxH1MiLHM7pfZyyY0hMeIy9shsITMSiuLcZiCdgLyq7VFjfGhChKTDdM6Ow-hu9FASroMr_GHtoM7cyEz5RrINBTPOoGJJ3s/s1600/DSCN1406.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC-SoSdTbVCqAlaska6DUURolgeuxZmMTqU4fW47JvjZikxH1MiLHM7pfZyyY0hMeIy9shsITMSiuLcZiCdgLyq7VFjfGhChKTDdM6Ow-hu9FASroMr_GHtoM7cyEz5RrINBTPOoGJJ3s/s640/DSCN1406.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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"There are always so many things to do in the garden- seedlings to be planted & watered, busy, buzy bees to be calmed with gentle words."</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixdEjW1rg6AnT51Qy3_1JcqpHS3j_EYO0hUwHe1G_C5l14uhOfd4kQHEdV_OQ500A0eFWJC3SoupVWd77KI2gEBsfBzt0fHaweQTx2hCKZb8wjo73y35XesQmp2hv4otXdA8FNjLiKFlo/s1600/DSCN1726.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixdEjW1rg6AnT51Qy3_1JcqpHS3j_EYO0hUwHe1G_C5l14uhOfd4kQHEdV_OQ500A0eFWJC3SoupVWd77KI2gEBsfBzt0fHaweQTx2hCKZb8wjo73y35XesQmp2hv4otXdA8FNjLiKFlo/s640/DSCN1726.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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This Ruby Red Shoes now has a bike called Wisp</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlptza7G7FYoFPdEFX8aRZD2hVX2v7Jk1aSVZoDobOggLz1xl4D3cj9JHU7dVg2dt0lPyNOZ2Y8Cl6_LsBMsvR96IRBDUH2tBnL6NreWh-brkp9Yz2XS0z6ztk_fC6sO6hR1KM4F_HE5s/s1600/DSCN1727.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlptza7G7FYoFPdEFX8aRZD2hVX2v7Jk1aSVZoDobOggLz1xl4D3cj9JHU7dVg2dt0lPyNOZ2Y8Cl6_LsBMsvR96IRBDUH2tBnL6NreWh-brkp9Yz2XS0z6ztk_fC6sO6hR1KM4F_HE5s/s640/DSCN1727.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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that she rides all round the neighbourhood, looking over fences, collecting seeds & waving cheerily to all the nice people that she sees along the way.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmES252bnTbbDEKYX9IQi8vahHwltRGcZpC1J4bKeJvbQLmLyiEWi66ZmXKMmaIkdezj8kb3TLei4gIR_0lAxPNxLtpIadLC3TploXp3afzFEt5C_OsODDKx663jVeKjoIClAjju8n5kI/s1600/DSCN1733.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmES252bnTbbDEKYX9IQi8vahHwltRGcZpC1J4bKeJvbQLmLyiEWi66ZmXKMmaIkdezj8kb3TLei4gIR_0lAxPNxLtpIadLC3TploXp3afzFEt5C_OsODDKx663jVeKjoIClAjju8n5kI/s640/DSCN1733.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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She even has a little bell.</div>
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Just in case hedgehogs & other small animals come across her path.</div>
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Lucy & Wisp are now best of friends.</div>
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Ruby doesn't know what she'd ever do without them now.</div>
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At the conclusion of last year I wrote a personal manifesto. </div>
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Here is a little of what it says:</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";">...I fling open every window to wonder, curiosity & beauty & I am deeply thankful for the abundance that flows all around & through us.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";">These are the days when I will remember how to skip & play & dream.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";">My lost & uncomforted inner child will re-connect with goodness & love, & learn to believe in her own sacred calling & expression.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";">One day, I will truly learn to laugh with gay abandon.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";">Even though these times are hard for many, my path will be sprinkled (saturated) with flowers, bees & butterflies.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";">The trees & birds will be my friends.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";">I <i>am</i> An angel in the garden & I <i>am</i> Ruby Red shoes.....</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";">Generosity will be my trademark; friendship & kindness my coat of many colours. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";">I will be healed.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";">Goodness will flow.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";">My floral, fragrant, light-filled legacy of joy & kindness will be a well-spring for many years to come </span><span style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">& this- will change the world, for good.</span></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";">Grace</span></div>
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</div>
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</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZyTLiqM9PT3SY90kdVRPwJtXkfofyysDlPL-9fveNrGLY0PXuK7s2073BPvF4FFDG_XJvswxey_oyhvac60rRADJ7p2DEzelLrXnujP7QTXN2S7FAKhffSkrTydngfPTiD2UHAYivVkk/s1600/Pink+butterfly+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZyTLiqM9PT3SY90kdVRPwJtXkfofyysDlPL-9fveNrGLY0PXuK7s2073BPvF4FFDG_XJvswxey_oyhvac60rRADJ7p2DEzelLrXnujP7QTXN2S7FAKhffSkrTydngfPTiD2UHAYivVkk/s320/Pink+butterfly+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Much love, Katie- the little girl who finally found her shoes, her wings & her destiny.<br />
<span style="background-color: #bd081c; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 153px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 3586px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span><span style="background-color: #bd081c; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 153px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 3586px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-73979965932199349162017-01-21T15:05:00.001+13:002017-06-02T22:23:20.208+12:00Upon Reflection...<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Well, they don't call them the Wisdom Years for nothing!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I love this new phase of my life as a Wise Woman & the insights that have come with it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's been a long, hard, strange journey, but in the end, a fascinating one.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I have forged my own perspective about some of the fundamentals & written a new manifesto for my life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am going to tell you about the way I see things, because my insights & perspective came about through the struggle & in the darkness & they matter.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I have learnt that we all get delivered in to this world "somewhere", but we don't get to choose the destination or the circumstances.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirbnTTgRqQ9rl56hRGcela_c_84AkblAnkg2eFQWlRNKd5D0x1jDk-q42aDHv_acvoBEAgHTvpenk2_3T31mzFL7PYgGf-i4e98HuD3VhCmFIQoZbwVJ9VKo_ekVGKxf5djUrd9H-HGmjG/s1600/Stork+%2526+baby+girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirbnTTgRqQ9rl56hRGcela_c_84AkblAnkg2eFQWlRNKd5D0x1jDk-q42aDHv_acvoBEAgHTvpenk2_3T31mzFL7PYgGf-i4e98HuD3VhCmFIQoZbwVJ9VKo_ekVGKxf5djUrd9H-HGmjG/s640/Stork+%2526+baby+girl.jpg" width="410" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We get delivered to people who may, or may not, be ready for, nor thrilled about our arrival. We are not just born to "parents"- mothers & fathers, we are born in to a family. We are the on-flow of thousands before us & their loving, struggling, thriving or muddling through this life we all face.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">At birth we each receive a package it's called the Legacy Pack & in it we will find a set of cards; unique, personalised & preset. We don't get to pick & choose.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Often we fret about our appearance, bodies, or ability limitations, but we get so much more than that in the deal- we get all the consequences: energetics, blessings & curses of the choices that those who came before us have made. We are washed with their hopes & fears, belief systems & superstitions & often carry the resonance of their wounds, traumas & tragedies.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">For many years we don't even understand we've got our own set of cards.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sometimes we discover them randomly or by accident, others are laid out nicely in order for us. Some will be wonderful & good, many will be a mystery, while others are just hard luck & crap, but they're ours.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">On Christmas day I found myself alone in the afternoon & evening (which was just fine) &</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"> I happened to sit down & read my father's biography of his early life. I had previously heard pride-filled stories of how my great grandfather Frank had cooked for the Queen when she traveled on New Zealand Railways in her visit to our little nation back in 1956, what I didn't know was, that Frank found himself orphaned at the age of 12 when both parents died of the 'flu, he was sent to sea indentured as a cabin boy. His ocean travels eventually led him to arrive in Wellington in 1907. I think we so often tell the grand stories of the memorable occasions & achievements, but it is frequently the small turns of fate that shape the lives of the generations. It is told that Frank could be grumpy, was no role model, frittered away his money at the TAB in later years & never really learnt to look out for, nor love others at home. He was discovered one day, </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">dead under a rose bush</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> at the bottom of the garden</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">, after having borrowed the neighbours lawn mower, that he, in fact, had no idea how to use. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The trauma of abandonment- losing his parents at such a young age, coloured Frank's life profoundly & so it was, that his son (my grandfather) struggled to love his own son well & the limitations were passed on & on; the heart needs never met, or satisfied. But of course, Frank was not the only contributor to my story. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Our cards are dealt by many hands & do not come with an instruction manual, but they do, however, come with a gift box.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">As parents, we don't get to choose the cards for our children either, but we do have the chance to love them for who they have arrived as & to create space for the gifts in the box to be explored & embraced, or discarded.</span></div>
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They may be cards of blessing & goodness,<br />
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we may find ourselves delivered in to a destiny of great love & safety.<br />
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There may be hope & happiness in our hand.<br />
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Or, we may be vulnerable to the harsh reality of a hard life.<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Just like the garden, we either find ourselves planted in just the right spot & we flourish & thrive, or we struggle to survive if the conditions are not right for the kind of plant that we are. If the weather is harsh, the sun too burny, the slugs & snails too voracious & the caterpillars overly persistent we may never flower or bear fruit as we were meant too. Sometimes we are trampled upon, the hungry rabbits have a go, or the blight gets us & we shrivel & die.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Resilience is not guaranteed.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sometime last year I came across a remarkable woman, a paediatrician named Dr Nadine Harris Burke & her TED talk entitled </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"How childhood trauma effects us across a life time".</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I heard her speak I was flooded with a validation I had been seeking my whole life- I sobbed & sobbed.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I always knew that my basic needs for love & acceptance had never been met & that I had lived my whole life with dangerous levels of toxic stress, brought about by the impact of other people's behaviour & choices. I didn't know how to create boundaries to keep myself safe, or how to discharge the adult weight/burdens or trauma that were sitting on my little heart & shoulders & suffocating all the life & joy out of me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">My heart learnt the crazy ways of pain & suffering & the happiness, joy synapses were broken.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dr Burke says: </span><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><span style="color: red;">"The science
is clear, early adversity dramatically affects health across a lifetime...The
single most important thing we need today is the courage to look this problem
in the face and say this is real and this is all of us."</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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I quite often hear people reflect that healing is simple if you <i>really</i> want it. That we should just get over ourselves & see the good things in life. "What have you got to complain about, there are others much worse off" & the kicker- "Your problem is you just need to forgive". You should just get counselling or take medication or......... </div>
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My father was always quite certain that you just get up in the morning & you say "It's a great day!" & then you get on with it & everything is then peachy.</div>
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Those of us living with the imprint, handprint & brain shaping of trauma & abuse in our childhoods are not experiencing depression, suicidality or poor physical health because we forgot to choose right.<br />
I need to say here, that there is certainly a place for forgiveness, but it is many times an end point not starting one & it is not a panacea for all pain & trauma.</div>
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That is why researchers asked these questions of the abused & traumatised:</div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: red;">"- whether or not their parents were divorced, whether
they experienced physical abuse, sexual abuse, or emotional neglect, and
whether they grew up with family members who were mentally ill, or addicted to
drugs, or alcohol.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: inherit;">And they documented an overwhelming correlation with poor health
outcomes. Higher numbers of adverse experiences consistently yielded more
health problems. Compared to people with no childhood trauma, people with 4 or
more were twice as likely to be diagnosed with cancer or heart disease; 7 times
as likely to be alcoholics; 6 times as likely to have depression; and 12 times
as likely to have attempted suicide. People exposed to 6 or more traumatic
events died 20 years sooner than those who had none.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: inherit;">But in the years since the study was published, a generation of
scientists have begun to understand and explain the way stress shapes our
bodies. Biomedical scientists and brain researchers have shown how “fight or
flight” stress hormones, like adrenaline and cortisol, which flood the body
when someone encounters danger, can cause lasting damage in the brain and body
when a child is under prolonged or repeated and unmitigated stress, what is now
commonly known as toxic stress."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The effects of adverse childhood experiences are very real & have a life long impact on everything about our lives.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This is a truth that I have long known- the impact of the trapped emotions & toxic stress settles in to the human body causing all manner of illness & dis-ease. That is why it is so vital to engage with our bodies in conversation whenever they speak to us. If we do not listen, they will find another way to get our attention.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It is almost impossible to become our true selves & find our soul purpose in this world when the sounds of trauma & un-wantedness are still ringing in our ears.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">There is a paragraph in the richly wonderful little book "The Kitchen Congregation" by Nora Seton that when I read it, it jumped right out & sat in my hand looking at me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Nora is talking with her 94 year old friend Ida, as always, they are in Ida's kitchen, Ida is recalling some incident with her husband some 30 decades earlier- a tiff that rankled. Her face is fierce in the recalling, her anger still bright as if it were yesterday. And here comes the illumating observance of her friend when shes says "Hurt sits in a cave. All the old hurts sit there together, so that when you walk in to the cave you may confront many of them, all born on different days & rage anew about the lot. I had rare glimpses into Ida's rage. The rage didn't concert me as much as being old & tsill feeling angry about something that had happened thirty-odd years ago, some eight second snippet between husband & wife during the long journey of a marriage. She looked at me & said nothing. Her eyes were teary. My breath went short & sorrow pushed against my lungs. No one wanted to carry memories of hurt. My father had sometimes late at night, decanted some fine old painful memory, keen & rich & perfuming his life still. His brimming eyes suggested that there had been no intervening years, had never aged or weakened, had preserved in his tears the perfect knowledge of his suffering."</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;">And this is how it is for all of us still carrying the wounds of childhood- hurt sits in a cave, a cupboard or a trunk & waits for us. Only with children, it is frequently the suitcase of the subconscious where the traumas make their home, their presence & resonance becoming the filter through which we see & experience life there after, involuntarily; unknowing. </span></o:p></span></div>
It was at the age of 6, at the time of the big disaster, as I witnessed my mother's suicide attempt, her adamant desire to exit this life & punish others, that all belief in goodness for me & my little life evaporated. Her exit strategy was no reflection on me, I know that, but the resonance of no desire to live/suicidality has contaminated my life & that of my children. It has stained. Where did it come from? Down through the generations, through the wounds of many, through the passing on of cumulative unresolved traumas sitting in caves. Sealing the door, doesn't reduce the potency, or erase the impact of toxic stress.<br />
It is often said "Oh but the kids will be ok, they are soooo resilient". This is just not true. Children do not know how to process trauma, wild emotions, deep loss & toxic stress unless it's demonstrated to them & they know that they are loved & supported & safe through the process. If this safety net is not present, we just store it all away in the cupboard for another day. I have also observed that where the greatest dysfunction lies, we will also find the complete lack of, or abuse of effective personal boundary setting. If we want to heal our lives & families we will need to learn the art of boundary setting well.<br />
So how do we clear the cupboard?<br />
What if there was a way to ditch all the hurt, the pain & the drama & become our real selves despite all the trauma; to become the wonderful people who we were always meant to be?<br />
I have sort to heal my life & resolve my traumas for almost four decades without success, that is, until I was lent the Emotion Code by Dr Bradley Nelson. One of my gifts in the box with my life cards is the gift of a peculiar brand of intuition, I have developed my own style of using these principles & filled an entire book with the clearing of my legacy & trapped emotions & traumas. The difference after 18 months is extraordinary! My marriage is revitalised, my husband is finally free of issues that had crippled him his whole life, my health has improved & I am learning what it is to feel like an amazing human being. For the first time in my life I feel very pleased to be alive. Good things are happening all around me. I have even been able to help others in simple & accurate ways. I am speaking up for myself, telling my story, sharing my brand of colourful Sunshine Vintage joy & blessing others as I go along the path.<br />
My greatest loss at the age of 6 was putting on the cloak of belief that nothing good would ever happen to or for me ever again.<br />
<br />
This year is the year of gathering goodness.<br />
Already so many amazing & wonderful things have unfolded,<br />
I am learning to laugh out loud again & sometimes there is joy.<br />
There is goodness & abundance & hope & freedom & I am so very grateful for it all, at last.<br />
<br />
And now there is Wisp & some red shoes but I'll have to tell you about that another time....<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifxE7xOJWe3FF6HtVUbHPVA23gcxvL-yu-zYvab5S_k2Rr6MzHoRrID8wvoHPw3rjw14HlOaZrKngYfeM0Nv0bcjh6CI-ioViy3MPzfFOyH9Cn4U0eJHjtBF9TDMFC6Y5tLIm_YWW812-M/s1600/DSCN1688.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifxE7xOJWe3FF6HtVUbHPVA23gcxvL-yu-zYvab5S_k2Rr6MzHoRrID8wvoHPw3rjw14HlOaZrKngYfeM0Nv0bcjh6CI-ioViy3MPzfFOyH9Cn4U0eJHjtBF9TDMFC6Y5tLIm_YWW812-M/s640/DSCN1688.jpg" width="626" /></a></div>
Much love, Catherine xxx<br />
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<span style="background-color: #bd081c; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 42px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 7533px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span><span style="background-color: #bd081c; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 42px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 7533px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-6069580857993868222017-01-08T21:28:00.001+13:002017-01-08T21:30:37.268+13:00Simply So....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Well, isn't that a surprise- here I am again!</div>
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Hello!</div>
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It's so nice to be back- shall I welcome you or will you welcome me?</div>
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Perhaps we'd better have a cup of tea!</div>
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I am truly fine (just in case you were wondering) & I am so glad of that.</div>
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I am realising as I write this that it is now six years since I began writing An angel in the garden & I have just managed to take a six month accidental sabbatical. </div>
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It is this dear blog that saved me really- opening the door for me to find my voice, tell my story, come to believe that I mattered & of course, feel connected for the first time in my life, through the friends that I met here.</div>
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Nowadays, I do also find it easier to connect, share & interact with people on Facebook so if you'd like to come & find <a href="https://www.facebook.com/CatherineReevesNZ">me there</a> please do.</div>
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You know, I thought I'd have this written on Christmas day...</div>
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but the days keep flowing by & that could be quite scary if I hadn't been learning to be present- right here in today. Possibly one of the most important arts in life- learning just to show up & be here,<br />
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willing to "see"....<br />
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all the amazing things in this world around us- the design that runs through the universe on every level & layer & cell. All is a miracle.<br />
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Real living, is made up of the observance & appreciation & the experiencing of all the tiny things<br />
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the scent of salt air, the feel of sand through your toes,<br />
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the startlement of colour that is pohutukawa flower, serenading summer & enticing tui...<br />
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heat of the day swept away in the breath-holding tranquility of a pond, just down the road.<br />
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water-liles floating...<br />
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enchanting little kingfisher way up high, that surprises us with his annoyingly unmelodic twerp, chirp, chirp song, but then when I hear the familiar repetition the following morning, while buying veges at the Farmer's Market, I am impressed by his elevated nonchalance, despite the commotion below.</div>
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Nothing is too much trouble in nature's design- a weed given status through title- Bishop's flower, Ladies Lace is still a wild carrot none-the-less, yet somehow, we of grand & precious design, endlessly doubt our own value; fail to grasp our infinite worth. </div>
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If in the midst of a thousand teeny florets of white, on one single weed head, is carefully placed a red button heart, how much more precious are we?</div>
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Trimming the weigela a few weeks ago I discovered blind, gaping mouths in a tiny nest so remarkably pre-prepared & perfect- attendant fussing white eye mummy hovering just feet (sorry, centimetres doesn't sound right) away.<br />
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Life here is creative, productive & juicy.<br />
This is a cute little set we came across a while back.<br />
Lots of repair work still to be done on it, but the chairs are so comfy & we love the colour.<br />
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I have been given the most unexpected & exquisite gifts of late.<br />
These flowers- so beautiful, also smelled divine.<br />
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We gasped at the sight of the wild foxgloves when we stopped to visit a friend in Tutira.<br />
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And frolicked amidst a whole fairy circle full of these magical spires when staying at Morere in November.<br />
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I'm not sure that you could say that I am co-creating with nature particularly, more like contributing to an explosion of plants & seeds & flowers- they're everywhere & heading off in all directions in cars, planes, vans, post bags & boxes. These several wheel barrows full of wonder were sent out to the prison just before Christmas. I hope they figure out what to do with the Jerusalem artichokes! A large cup of hollyhock seeds & a handful of sky scraper sunflowers also tagged along. I am amazed to be given the opportunity to send hope & goodness & loads of colour in to dark places. We will have firewood delivered in return.<br />
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How astonishing to notice one day, seeds on this lily of the valley plant!<br />
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I felt like Heidi gazing out over craggy flower filled mountains way up here.<br />
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In fact, we've been here, there & everywhere visiting our favourite places just as we can- loving the beauty & the countryside & spending time together.<br />
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I've hung this cute little op shop bird cage in the flowering cherry tree outside Lucy.<br />
I am reminded of Maya Angelou's poem <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/48989">"I know why the caged bird sings".</a><br />
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-themecolor: accent5;">"A free bird leaps <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-themecolor: accent5;">on the back of
the wind <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-themecolor: accent5;">and floats
downstream <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-themecolor: accent5;">till the current
ends <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-themecolor: accent5;">and dips his wing <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-themecolor: accent5;">in the orange sun
rays </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><span style="color: red;">and dares to
claim the sky."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-themecolor: accent5;">Maya Angelou</span><br />
<span style="color: #5b9bd5; font-family: "book antiqua"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-themecolor: accent5;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #5b9bd5; font-family: "book antiqua"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-themecolor: accent5;">As I dare to claim the sky I look down & <u>pro</u>claim-</span><br />
<span style="color: #5b9bd5; font-family: "book antiqua"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-themecolor: accent5;"><span style="color: red;">I am living juicy to make the angels laugh!</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgchVbXMxPNzr2BloBbgjKCGmcaDrigfBUxvpElun4KZwWVzgMJqtmhnGPLRIMPm49fRqUjvsjpRcKFPYmfMWegtttSMX8b8mBJ915uxcQA00dx-fBix_mXlCMyFf3WdgYUZNS4L-8VUw_z/s1600/Live+Juicy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgchVbXMxPNzr2BloBbgjKCGmcaDrigfBUxvpElun4KZwWVzgMJqtmhnGPLRIMPm49fRqUjvsjpRcKFPYmfMWegtttSMX8b8mBJ915uxcQA00dx-fBix_mXlCMyFf3WdgYUZNS4L-8VUw_z/s640/Live+Juicy.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
Lovely to see you. Please do drop in again soon.<br />
Much love, Catherine x0x0x<br />
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<br />Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-2027883739322002162016-07-01T00:00:00.000+12:002016-07-01T21:32:12.689+12:00Sowing and StitchingPeople keep looking at me funny when I tell them with great enthusiasm that seeds really are tiny miracles-but it's true! When I send a half a teaspoon full of little seeds in an envelope down the road or hundreds of miles away, I know without doubt, that I am sending a seed-bomb of extraordinary miracle power. Given a little care, luck, time & some earth & a little moisture, invariably that minuscule capsule holding the true pattern & identity of a pansy, forget-me-not, mignonette, love-in-the-mist or a zillion other possibilities will activate it's little life force & soon unfurl & replicate identically to it's parents; no matter how far from home it roams. Well, of course there are always, rogues, renegades & exceptions, but miracles all, non-the-less!<br />
Through this year I have sent seeds all around the country- to gardeners in big cities, small towns, on farms; to those who are just beginner gardeners & those with fine gardens-all with a little dream or intention of growing beauty & fabulousness. Last week I was startled to find that I was to send three lots of seeds to this delightful Admiral Gardens in the Chatham Islands.<br />
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I recently bought some vintage Sanderson oilcloth from a lovely lady called Barbara. I was thrilled to find this card tucked in at the top of parcel & when I turned it over I realised that Barbara Anderson was the artist. Isn't it delightful.</div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Spring Garden Tour</span></div>
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Chelsea- Sanderson oil cloth</div>
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That same week I found two parcels in the letter box on the Monday.</div>
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One was from my dear friend Betty (<a href="http://betty-thewoodfairy.blogspot.co.nz/">Wood Fairy)</a> England!</div>
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I restrained myself & rushed inside to carefully open & savour the envelope...filled with kind messages & bluebell seeds from Glover's Wood.</div>
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It is such a remarkable thing that we could then <i>google</i> & instantly see, precisely, where Glover's Wood, Charlwood is. And as it turns out-it is but a stone's throw from East Grinstead & the house where Rob's father grew up. In our search we noticed this picture of a charming stile in Grover's Wood.<br />
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<a href="http://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/1275927"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi68favA0ktqw2_r-JZzz_N8CcTAs6Wmb_5YNfKChLaq8WxAWc3gqXhJMQE8265SiM3eb1ZrRdgokjWcmFe4bK1S1YCthAOIQ7T0t7Oc8TShmqfS51jbiRi4bw02GqfgpFGsg6VYQCmgDl0/s640/Style+from+Glover%2527s+Wood.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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We had been talking about making a stile so we could more easily & less precariously hop through to our nice neighbour's next door.</div>
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It would go just here. </div>
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It's a nice little spot around here in the winter time when the plum tree has lost it's leaves.<br />
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It could be just the right place to use these old window frames (there's another one somewhere!) that we saw at a garage sale just down the road last weekend. The safest way to get them home was to rush back with the two trolleys & ( also precariously) wheel one each home again.<br />
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They're a bit rumpty & pretty fragile but they'll have another life with us yet. This old green glass is very special. & very old.<br />
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I have found that life & gardens can both be sown by seed.</div>
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We get to choose every single day just what we will sow, pay attention to & water & what we will not.</div>
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Fostering community is a good-to-sow-thing - a few weeks ago I spotted an add in our "Neighbourly" group for a trailer load of wood chip mulch that some "neighbours" wanted to give away instead of taking it to the dump. I happened to be the first to phone & with in half an hour the mulch had been delivered & I had sent Ben on his way with many thanks & mandarins for his children.</div>
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My newly acquired "old" wheelbarrow that I found at the Restore Shop (they build houses for people who can't afford one through Habitat for Humanity) happy to help distribute the mulch all around the garden. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjowtbGaUgqZOH_jrSZwwBFNUbciYmGc6gNfEric5vQOFhgdHo0nRebUABBxYZpWFSv1FVlKD-nNDD4ova60hdpz7Bt8P9S53qSJ8BKYy1m8nlPWUsziNHPGWZbyAsUvu_zEqExEz9-L64k/s1600/DSCN8362.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjowtbGaUgqZOH_jrSZwwBFNUbciYmGc6gNfEric5vQOFhgdHo0nRebUABBxYZpWFSv1FVlKD-nNDD4ova60hdpz7Bt8P9S53qSJ8BKYy1m8nlPWUsziNHPGWZbyAsUvu_zEqExEz9-L64k/s640/DSCN8362.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
A great time to get areas like this tidied up for the winter.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmPAPCitgWyW9xHzVI6qpu5UN6o0TFQCYkgcWxh7mIB2JoAHOcXHVGMCaNiMS5YKD-eFFYm31MUssXYiv7jfMx-_PxhMC3duMrfvafRAlXoyv2czsPQuX9hyqQ7Tln2Dbquq7BYaCBMSOp/s1600/DSCN8366.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmPAPCitgWyW9xHzVI6qpu5UN6o0TFQCYkgcWxh7mIB2JoAHOcXHVGMCaNiMS5YKD-eFFYm31MUssXYiv7jfMx-_PxhMC3duMrfvafRAlXoyv2czsPQuX9hyqQ7Tln2Dbquq7BYaCBMSOp/s640/DSCN8366.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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The other parcel that arrived that Monday came from a lovely Trade Me customer who I had sent two Country Homes magazines to and in return I received a hand written letter, cool stamps, Cath Kidston & a gardening magazine- how delightful was that! And since then, some lovely book recommendations too, as Sandi is an avid reader.</div>
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The morning sun was still low when I sat at the writing desk here & paused to think of all the things I was grateful for, when I looked down to see the rainbows scattered around in front of me...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj89aLJ3gbrzdgKa1tiRVQPTfmvfd7oPaZFcdimKGu4paJl8hUCm04BCgqTA6CK1pOX7MSyOhJ-kM6S6uFe-V_hZ8JPl0JsrgtqiqGlud_ly-VWVQcKi_BzLPcmlYpE-cKr4cqTe2DGwyR/s1600/DSCN8331+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj89aLJ3gbrzdgKa1tiRVQPTfmvfd7oPaZFcdimKGu4paJl8hUCm04BCgqTA6CK1pOX7MSyOhJ-kM6S6uFe-V_hZ8JPl0JsrgtqiqGlud_ly-VWVQcKi_BzLPcmlYpE-cKr4cqTe2DGwyR/s640/DSCN8331+%25281%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
shining richly on the fairies dancing in a spring meadow.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjLJXyqMrShjm0WJReZeQxSk1FEc-NKqMQhoha3yXdHQehHjiik6NaD8HoX2VblVLh654MlvmuXDXkSLyPNFRelT6UgttD-SiW4lhE4AsAfGDBC0tTflKCzLuA4AoF7GL9pFI9eNIJl5st/s1600/DSCN8333+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjLJXyqMrShjm0WJReZeQxSk1FEc-NKqMQhoha3yXdHQehHjiik6NaD8HoX2VblVLh654MlvmuXDXkSLyPNFRelT6UgttD-SiW4lhE4AsAfGDBC0tTflKCzLuA4AoF7GL9pFI9eNIJl5st/s640/DSCN8333+%25281%2529.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
Aren't they adorable.<br />
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I love this time of year when bulbs & plants have to push their way through soil </div>
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to reach forth & flower<br />
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& share their heavenly scent at front doors & the such-like.<br />
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Life is about sowing & dreaming & stitching, but also cutting out.</div>
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Nina (6) & I had the loveliest time cutting these out together last weekend. </div>
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It feels so good to know that I have them all prepared ahead now.</div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">The handmade life is a worthy life, a life of richness & lasting satisfaction.</span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;"> I wouldn't want to live it any other way.</span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;">I read a poetic article the other day & as I did, I thought- yes, yes that's it!</span><br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">This extract came from a short article entitled <a href="http://toko-pa.com/2016/01/12/the-handmade-life/">The Handmade Life</a>. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #4472c4; font-family: "book antiqua";">.</span><span style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";">..we are taught to respect the slow, attentive piecing together of the life we yearn for. </span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";">Stitch by stitch we apprentice the craft.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";">We work in tandem with mystery, feeling it’s rhythms awaken in our bone-memory.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";">And we realise the patience it takes to make a life materialise.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";">There are no shortcuts, & it can’t be done cheaply, or en masse. </span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";">The work is small, the work is slow & all we can do is stay with it.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";">As Dr Clarissa Pinkola Estes says, “The shortcut, the easy way, always falls apart. </span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";">Then one returns to the handmade life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red;"><span style="color: #4472c4; font-family: "book antiqua";">One has to pick it up painfully, & piece it back together. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="color: #4472c4; font-family: "book antiqua";">Holding the overall pattern in one’s mind, </span><span style="color: #4472c4; font-family: "book antiqua";">but working patiently, piece by piece."</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: red;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";">May your hands be blessed. </span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";">May they know the magic they make.</span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";"> May everything they touch, touch them in return.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "book antiqua";">May your exquisite efforts soon show their shape. </span><br />
<span style="color: #4472c4; font-family: "book antiqua";"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #4472c4; font-family: "book antiqua";">And that is indeed my wish for you dear friends & readers.</span><br />
<span style="color: #4472c4; font-family: "book antiqua";">Thank you for popping in to see me.</span><br />
<span style="color: #4472c4; font-family: "book antiqua";"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #4472c4; font-family: "book antiqua";">We hold more in our own hands & hearts than we understand.</span><br />
<span style="color: #4472c4;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";">Planting seeds- a </span><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";">song</span><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"> to live by.</span></span></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/5AmqYcWjBmc?rel=0" width="640"></iframe><br />
Video from <a href="http://www.karmatube.org/">KarmaTube</a><br />
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Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-17639513556963415622016-06-22T23:36:00.000+12:002016-06-23T16:50:58.068+12:00Life and a Biscuit Tin<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I've been thinking quite a lot lately about family-</div>
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what it means to be healthy family & how strong bonds can be made spontaneously; glued with love. Other times, germs get in the wounds we create & the glue fails.</div>
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Every family story is different; </div>
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life never unfolding quite how we imagine- some of it we choose & lots of it just happens.</div>
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Back when I was still little I happened to get a step-mother. I didn't ask to have a step-mother & I didn't actually want to have her- but she came along anyway.</div>
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What I didn't understand, until decades later, was how inclusive her mother (she lost her own mother at the time of her birth) had been towards me & how open-hearted & kind her sister was. At her passing in early June, that sister-Shirley left her own family bereft & me with the warm & comforting knowledge that I had been embraced & befriended. I have tucked these kindnesses in to my apron pocket & they will journey with me for life.</div>
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In my other pocket I have scissors & a quick unpick! </div>
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Having stayed the night here at <a href="http://www.thelakeonline.co.nz/">The Lake</a> motel in Taupo, we journeyed to Hamilton on a fine winter's day to say goodbye to Shirley. </div>
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We had sold our persimmons & feijoas at the gate & had enough tucked away to pay for a night or two away. We made a little detour to Cambridge & stopped in at the <a href="http://www.mystylenz.co.nz/">My Style</a> shop-small but so cute & sprinkled with Cath Kidston & Shabby Chic loveliness.<br />
Just out of town we saw this wonderful old summer house,<br />
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set off to the side of this grand old house.<br />
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Shirley knew how much we loved staying in Te Aroha so that's where we stayed after the funeral.<br />
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It was very wintery (though not cold) & moody in the Waikato. We've been so long without rain at home I am having to water all my pots again & put on the irrigation!<br />
It's just a wee town Te Aroha but there's some lovely places to visit here.<br />
It was a bit of a scramble to get all my Trade Me sales & correspondence tied up before we left. I went to address a parcel containing a dear little Laura Ashley dress, when I realised that the buyer lived in Te Aroha! I was so glad that I make my parcels look like presents-so that when I delivered the dress in person, the little girl who was ill, was so excited to get a "present". <br />
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It was good to make the journey in this way, to travel the miles together, talking about everything & working it all through.<br />
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We were just out of Tirau when we saw a sign which prompted us to wonder what had become of Okoroire Hot Springs & Hotel under it's new management. "Shall we go & see?". We both shouted yes let's!<br />
<a href="http://anangelinthegarden.blogspot.co.nz/2012/12/the-unexpected-journey-hotel-time-forgot.html">Last time we visited</a> it was like stepping back in time & it was all profoundly forgotten, eerie & run down.<br />
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And we could only peer through the hole in the fence to see this pool.<br />
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"New Management" had indeed been on the job although I don't think this is actually the quick way down.<br />
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The top pool that had been enclosed previously was now a lovely open pool<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs-UpfcMmNuheMv3ZEQ_pQoM1RyVgwbrtZuUHc-ZqXJS7BW4nIrykH6Pabx0UbN-AKYCe9ETU-AXHuuyc9N8yVzjTAWxgk8HCxh3u2T0ZJTMoZEEBTAdWpQGSX7DcjEVUxjfDKOtyjt6PL/s1600/DSCN7968.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs-UpfcMmNuheMv3ZEQ_pQoM1RyVgwbrtZuUHc-ZqXJS7BW4nIrykH6Pabx0UbN-AKYCe9ETU-AXHuuyc9N8yVzjTAWxgk8HCxh3u2T0ZJTMoZEEBTAdWpQGSX7DcjEVUxjfDKOtyjt6PL/s640/DSCN7968.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
and The Fairy Pool had been reclaimed. It is reputed that this is the very earliest pool to be constructed of concrete in New Zealand, back in 1887.<br />
<a href="http://www.teara.govt.nz/en/photograph/27351/fairy-pool-okoroire">This photo </a>was taken in 1893<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf04-OXsxiJ2H81qAyUrJiTy0PgN2ZVJfvt367i5LCIS1q9WojFem3YmdkKJNvbT_2ec8BeR6vJYM4UKa_1emzg7PTnBznc4a8tbjO1knE9Vczbhil2ExAN1GkAV1PcZfwMBsYg-JM1BuA/s1600/Fairy+Pool+1893.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf04-OXsxiJ2H81qAyUrJiTy0PgN2ZVJfvt367i5LCIS1q9WojFem3YmdkKJNvbT_2ec8BeR6vJYM4UKa_1emzg7PTnBznc4a8tbjO1knE9Vczbhil2ExAN1GkAV1PcZfwMBsYg-JM1BuA/s400/Fairy+Pool+1893.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
It is called The Fairy Pool because at night the bank twinkles with the little lights of many glow worms.<br />
It was the most extraordinary experience being immersed in this water. On very tip-toe the water was lapping at my chin-really lapping, moving constantly. The bottom of the pool is all sandy & the water seeps up from the natural spring to continually replenish the pool, creating the finest champagne bubbles that tickle all over your skin & create continuous momentum as if the water itself is alive. (You may need to click on them to see some of these pictures properly)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1S2SZmPs7Ubr0KoHZkjjo77SKyruyERjZyFV9Fl_59MgacDRM3ew28SGQDZX748dsBS9l6N8jYmpVK6ii3Ocv_tS8yYkNotzHven1souLZrbLKeNutQ9i_X5YgCPkYhDVyxxLk-SwwEHd/s1600/DSCN7971.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1S2SZmPs7Ubr0KoHZkjjo77SKyruyERjZyFV9Fl_59MgacDRM3ew28SGQDZX748dsBS9l6N8jYmpVK6ii3Ocv_tS8yYkNotzHven1souLZrbLKeNutQ9i_X5YgCPkYhDVyxxLk-SwwEHd/s640/DSCN7971.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
In the days after our return I felt rather sad so I cried when I felt like it & I made a lovely cup of tea & sat in Lucy, remembering Shirley warmly. Shirley had threaded her kind self through Sunshine Vintage in so many ways. A few years ago she had offered to be a helper & pick up any items I found on Trade Me if they were in Hamilton. It just so happened that Hamilton was where I found an Old English Rose tea set. Shirley was delighted to pick it up for me, not far at all from her home. She carefully unwrapped every piece & checked it all thoroughly before declaring it to be in splendid order.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCOYS7kVLUW7hy0HwoovjC_R5lp5Dg-QrHsSSkoHlY1IxxVpSZFi9YwUXn0mTDPkpnUkiD8lxdCplIndOoFsrRWQvB7rzz7EVGQubCMyIsoVbqftMfRdZNJMrwvR11aNNbJAGja0qeyKoL/s1600/DSCN8374.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCOYS7kVLUW7hy0HwoovjC_R5lp5Dg-QrHsSSkoHlY1IxxVpSZFi9YwUXn0mTDPkpnUkiD8lxdCplIndOoFsrRWQvB7rzz7EVGQubCMyIsoVbqftMfRdZNJMrwvR11aNNbJAGja0qeyKoL/s640/DSCN8374.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
I found the violet hat in Second Thoughts Collectables in Te Aroha.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaRAs5jFiB4zxXaOUaHsqSp7ShAj7WwuM3jFKS909MqtjLmhn68WB1aeqJ9uJqOt-Jog-l_1FK10wuP3TjeSYAzDuprSkiaFIZ39zTEmih-p30nWcKndxihqdi2eyBzdd12a0Dzu_P5X0z/s1600/DSCN8378.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaRAs5jFiB4zxXaOUaHsqSp7ShAj7WwuM3jFKS909MqtjLmhn68WB1aeqJ9uJqOt-Jog-l_1FK10wuP3TjeSYAzDuprSkiaFIZ39zTEmih-p30nWcKndxihqdi2eyBzdd12a0Dzu_P5X0z/s640/DSCN8378.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">Not often that you find such a treasure these days.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX3PW8UuZpLdrhC5PSpLByMvONaaz-05TXDnuXKbi4Lm6T3J-nLRW2HQHRFoWiUNXrX46MWyGxr41aq2_8O1zbEXTwKVxwIr2orjLASkb8AeKt5WdrGVB1d6Drj1xjbJ-PGJexwwmA7m02/s1600/DSCN8376.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX3PW8UuZpLdrhC5PSpLByMvONaaz-05TXDnuXKbi4Lm6T3J-nLRW2HQHRFoWiUNXrX46MWyGxr41aq2_8O1zbEXTwKVxwIr2orjLASkb8AeKt5WdrGVB1d6Drj1xjbJ-PGJexwwmA7m02/s640/DSCN8376.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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As I get older I have become very firm about pursuing depth & meaning & authenticity.</div>
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Which is why I find myself drawn to strong woman who have frank things to say.</div>
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Shirley had found her very best courage & was about to make new changes in her life, but she'd left it too late & never got the chance.</div>
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Regrets & "too late" serve no one well.</div>
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Susan Weed writes so frankly- </div>
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<span style="background-color: #fce5cd; color: #1d2129; font-family: "bookman old style"; letter-spacing: -0.2pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #fce5cd; font-family: "bookman old style"; letter-spacing: -0.2pt;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">"Accepting it all -- the mess, the chaos,
the pain, the insults, the senseless waste, the good deeds gone bad, the sheer
beauty, the awesome power, the amazing perseverance, the stunning fecundity,
the breath-taking coincidences </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #fce5cd; font-family: "bookman old style"; letter-spacing: -0.2pt;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">– embracing it all, and loving it all, even
within my self, is my path of authenticity,</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #fce5cd; color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-family: "bookman old style"; letter-spacing: -0.2pt;"> the real woman I wish the women of
the world to know."</span></span></div>
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On our trip home I began to realise that I was feeling rather disturbed. Here it was again, that familiar feeling of discomfort of just not fitting in with the status quo. My whole life has become a mission to forge another way: to see, to be, to experience life,</div>
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and death.</div>
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A month or so ago Rob had been reading about a spot out in the Esk Valley where you could walk up the defunct railway track.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaBzO3a4yO8APp2XnSngEMnjDgfPULu2Djm12E6K-Ipr22cq6nTRrLcdfb97jsYpgA0o3CHuHtmebVsUyEKoYiSKeO6TmRkRQPpvzVHC15HrgRpbaaq-lpd-H3sDd566vdRaWJFNnacpRP/s1600/DSCN7899+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaBzO3a4yO8APp2XnSngEMnjDgfPULu2Djm12E6K-Ipr22cq6nTRrLcdfb97jsYpgA0o3CHuHtmebVsUyEKoYiSKeO6TmRkRQPpvzVHC15HrgRpbaaq-lpd-H3sDd566vdRaWJFNnacpRP/s640/DSCN7899+%25281%2529.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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We found more than a railway track.</div>
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We found a truly majestical place.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL82L0y5hxGazWIAtWmtnLjVo9mqgA_jxFS3fqDHFipKTEVp6g5U-ULFI86E73f3C6BvCJyW6YHnhCwoPskvRxpz8gQyAwGhOkH8q8IB1NbqT-sNgNlysd2vGFwdefeKQ67G03-HGHxxG_/s1600/DSCN7888.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL82L0y5hxGazWIAtWmtnLjVo9mqgA_jxFS3fqDHFipKTEVp6g5U-ULFI86E73f3C6BvCJyW6YHnhCwoPskvRxpz8gQyAwGhOkH8q8IB1NbqT-sNgNlysd2vGFwdefeKQ67G03-HGHxxG_/s640/DSCN7888.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
A place where we felt completely at peace.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIEyakfbLO7uWOLfYU9cy7H-ifX1zHdGnlHvBoOHOLwX41norLrGk1Daafu3JnxIBsACH8Fly73lfLLgk9_6LUWoZ0fPKDxQY_Kqp0iLzhCPjv87VfYOU1danFs-GiR1M8LFeqxo7DQLJr/s1600/DSCN7891.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIEyakfbLO7uWOLfYU9cy7H-ifX1zHdGnlHvBoOHOLwX41norLrGk1Daafu3JnxIBsACH8Fly73lfLLgk9_6LUWoZ0fPKDxQY_Kqp0iLzhCPjv87VfYOU1danFs-GiR1M8LFeqxo7DQLJr/s640/DSCN7891.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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Wild violets</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpU6X2sfmuKqLW6G2BlstnEqrMe4BvTWYmimyo6-TjfXsBHe8ynsbcYBweyR1RlH0TGD7Rwm8SmHpDv0RKbvhRw5L7YfdJ9mRzlfomD8N16WLmr3z8sJH1RagfolVTEG-m3guLzkclr86H/s1600/DSCN7907.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpU6X2sfmuKqLW6G2BlstnEqrMe4BvTWYmimyo6-TjfXsBHe8ynsbcYBweyR1RlH0TGD7Rwm8SmHpDv0RKbvhRw5L7YfdJ9mRzlfomD8N16WLmr3z8sJH1RagfolVTEG-m3guLzkclr86H/s640/DSCN7907.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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& bird song.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpOkfqWjRTC1dIC_PgZTe3R94hpQZMOK4mITrA0bQaDieirtdPdnh7U2eAkk9x_gcRc6fcNqMLMOTXnuFltFu_WSNfy38LWmy3fYtOMcC2LsdynG-_Q8D7-symG09755AtApZZdhnFmpf_/s1600/DSCN7915.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpOkfqWjRTC1dIC_PgZTe3R94hpQZMOK4mITrA0bQaDieirtdPdnh7U2eAkk9x_gcRc6fcNqMLMOTXnuFltFu_WSNfy38LWmy3fYtOMcC2LsdynG-_Q8D7-symG09755AtApZZdhnFmpf_/s640/DSCN7915.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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On our journey home from the funeral we got up close & talked about what we really wanted in death. Grand event funerals may be just the thing for most or many, but for us there is going to be another way.</div>
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It came to me a few days later. Rob, Rob...could you put a person in a biscuit tin?", I asked.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6A-_xqgFoc-5YP0O21O1DJSs2FeGZoqCMjyi6RP7Le0cMHBr85A2mNLrkOvWlyUxb8s9v-AtJC1Ydzn2ubdWusMxS3hSShmPu2vJ70yw6t1yMoG-OJW7UGJ-CoHRgKZrZhu55Fyvg-puJ/s1600/DSCN8465.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6A-_xqgFoc-5YP0O21O1DJSs2FeGZoqCMjyi6RP7Le0cMHBr85A2mNLrkOvWlyUxb8s9v-AtJC1Ydzn2ubdWusMxS3hSShmPu2vJ70yw6t1yMoG-OJW7UGJ-CoHRgKZrZhu55Fyvg-puJ/s640/DSCN8465.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
And I am now quite certain you could. As long as you had a label saying who was in the tin & some children who were happy to follow simple instructions. We would be sprinkled together in to the river-the place of peace...& slowly make our way to the sea-that was Rob's idea.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2w7YqkLR-UYU9zHwsGIy2iauMi6PFzp-cKSuX3DN5MkYX5Xal-CQyvibt5kXLGGrC8oGT0ZC7gdFO194utOBp3iVWl_t5IM4OATpGn7hyphenhyphenScFgsGmO8wk4UAR-GfbJ_IONdeHQBJHgzSJm/s1600/DSCN8470.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2w7YqkLR-UYU9zHwsGIy2iauMi6PFzp-cKSuX3DN5MkYX5Xal-CQyvibt5kXLGGrC8oGT0ZC7gdFO194utOBp3iVWl_t5IM4OATpGn7hyphenhyphenScFgsGmO8wk4UAR-GfbJ_IONdeHQBJHgzSJm/s640/DSCN8470.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
Any time someone wanted to remember us they could come to the river, to swim, to forage, to play & to picnic.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRWTrJY0tcbkAFCr4Apz_GfrZFqTotUsLY2GfUUOBYsNafqce4MhMRknKuUfbRaosx9A1KBv29yjfkdJkMQuO7AliX4dZitkUTTR1Iv8rySEDjF-zoWZvPYPOH_hN9tiD7V21-AxUrguKi/s1600/DSCN8472.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRWTrJY0tcbkAFCr4Apz_GfrZFqTotUsLY2GfUUOBYsNafqce4MhMRknKuUfbRaosx9A1KBv29yjfkdJkMQuO7AliX4dZitkUTTR1Iv8rySEDjF-zoWZvPYPOH_hN9tiD7V21-AxUrguKi/s640/DSCN8472.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">Perhaps they will find it to be a majestical place too.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="color: orange; font-family: inherit;">This is my wish for you...</span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: orange;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></b></span>
<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="color: orange; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">That the spirit of beauty may continually hover about you</span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="color: orange; font-family: inherit;">and fold you within the tenderness of her wings.</span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: red;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></b></span>
<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="color: orange; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">That each beautiful and gracious thing in life</span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="color: orange; font-family: inherit;">may be unto you as a symbol of good</span></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="color: orange; font-family: inherit;">for your soul's delight.</span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: red;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></b></span>
<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="color: orange; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">That sun-glories and star-glories, leaf-glories and bark-glories,</span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="color: orange; font-family: inherit;">flower-glories and sand-glories that lurk in the grasses of the field...</span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: red;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></b></span>
<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="color: orange; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Glories of </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">mountains</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> and oceans,</span></span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: orange; font-family: inherit;">of little streams of running waters</span></span></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: orange; font-family: inherit;">glories of song, of poesy,</span></span></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: orange; font-family: inherit;">of all the arts...</span></span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: red;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></b></span>
<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: orange; font-family: inherit;">May be to you as sweet abiding influences that will illumine your life</span></span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: orange; font-family: inherit;">and make you glad.</span></span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: red;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></b></span>
<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: orange; font-family: inherit;">That your soul may be as an alabaster cup filled to overflowing </span></span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: orange; font-family: inherit;">with the mystical wine of beauty and love.</span></span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: red;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></b></span>
<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: orange; font-family: inherit;">That happiness may put her arms around you,</span></span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: orange; font-family: inherit;">and wisdom make your soul serene.</span></span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: red;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></b></span>
<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: orange; font-family: inherit;">This is my wish for you.</span></span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: orange; font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></b></span>
<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">~Charles Livingston Snell</span></span></b></span></span><br />
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Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-27306649274016338542016-05-26T23:58:00.000+12:002016-05-28T21:26:32.880+12:00From Scux To Majestical!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Just a few weeks ago, one of us turned 60.</div>
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In honour of such a grand event, we set off on a little celebratory road trip north, via right, just out of Napier. We had saved up from fruit selling & planned a good balance of: places we knew we'd like to go & others we'd never even set eyes on before.</div>
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There is a valley on the way to Gisborne, a place called Morere- meadows, a river, hot springs, a camping ground & cabins, all enveloped in a lowland rainforest reserve.</div>
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People have lived here a long time but never very many. It's a precious place, you can just feel it. This was once the little school for the areas children, now re-homed & restored. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigMqktbjJbO2wg5x10IzAPBpueo6qhttdZeRjs08oDsCR6-ObOxWe6EYFJ3n_tRU8mLUlNCUG2apGGzzlRs37nls75TVuWfofFCIcmGAk9vZjXhQnZoeNbgmePmAFzzt_DjkabKg3QbH69/s1600/DSCN7751.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigMqktbjJbO2wg5x10IzAPBpueo6qhttdZeRjs08oDsCR6-ObOxWe6EYFJ3n_tRU8mLUlNCUG2apGGzzlRs37nls75TVuWfofFCIcmGAk9vZjXhQnZoeNbgmePmAFzzt_DjkabKg3QbH69/s400/DSCN7751.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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The hot water is remarkable, sometimes called fossilised sea water as it has traveled thousands of years before bubbling it's way out of the ground beneath the rainforest. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCgmzqRAUtNrC0t4mUMeYy-moWev-TR5xoUgJPIIQhlEZ5IZcvnd07m_7plz0GluLbe0frghyphenhypheniz1AO4iOcBFweJIVnbMKHH2VAlyNyPZxUU6pSGCICYUIb1YqNLkb9oqKWS_ChHeJFXav4/s1600/DSCN7749.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCgmzqRAUtNrC0t4mUMeYy-moWev-TR5xoUgJPIIQhlEZ5IZcvnd07m_7plz0GluLbe0frghyphenhypheniz1AO4iOcBFweJIVnbMKHH2VAlyNyPZxUU6pSGCICYUIb1YqNLkb9oqKWS_ChHeJFXav4/s640/DSCN7749.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
Not far after that to Gisborne (the first to see the sun)-so many lovely beaches, a river, op-shops<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXu6vsclyWRus-Dgmq7v7trd64aUepvVDSFgVtLJeX6yoafVS_P5mLDxRlJe5goAUG6x0ckva_KhLqVk06Hm2eTLHWUUlSqFTZPLjO9oq-Tl9LHac783fcUXGhE-DqbZPMdjZFpIdKn6ID/s1600/DSCN7762.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXu6vsclyWRus-Dgmq7v7trd64aUepvVDSFgVtLJeX6yoafVS_P5mLDxRlJe5goAUG6x0ckva_KhLqVk06Hm2eTLHWUUlSqFTZPLjO9oq-Tl9LHac783fcUXGhE-DqbZPMdjZFpIdKn6ID/s640/DSCN7762.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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and walks.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJKuuramvKVJNlpL8n_WnFUPC9DZTolXbYm7qeFDoDRdYXY0xrYV0EsVWrdIq-PDpYd0V_prs2WHVoaAITeNHEHWVgiuWEdw5Anc_TaBi6kii-DAPqtsxE_mRzEl975seoY6boSBFdHl2d/s1600/DSCN7775.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJKuuramvKVJNlpL8n_WnFUPC9DZTolXbYm7qeFDoDRdYXY0xrYV0EsVWrdIq-PDpYd0V_prs2WHVoaAITeNHEHWVgiuWEdw5Anc_TaBi6kii-DAPqtsxE_mRzEl975seoY6boSBFdHl2d/s640/DSCN7775.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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It was fun to explore together.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEill27eos1iNLU6fl28Lf0AsHth3t52XXJOHjnjtxPdyvm1Za9ubzFk2W1ci2SGwn2fYs_V_kVKjCaWYqzb-fhMJFYZNXwo1XqCRB1iUmIAhfAPPHP0CxNGmisMEyzMN1ich_zdsSrMuKxI/s1600/DSCN7781.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEill27eos1iNLU6fl28Lf0AsHth3t52XXJOHjnjtxPdyvm1Za9ubzFk2W1ci2SGwn2fYs_V_kVKjCaWYqzb-fhMJFYZNXwo1XqCRB1iUmIAhfAPPHP0CxNGmisMEyzMN1ich_zdsSrMuKxI/s640/DSCN7781.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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Yet, it was constantly ever-so-slightly challenging being away from our everyday lives & home.</div>
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"Goodness, what's wrong with you dear? It was only for a few days!"</div>
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And that's just it..a few days away from the familiarity, provisions, accessibility & rhythms of our everyday lives refreshed our perspective & heightened our senses.</div>
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We talked a lot. We always chat away, we're best of friends.</div>
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We process our lives, grow, renew our thinking & know one another better with every conversation.</div>
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We're still wading through the detritus of the past, like swimming in the ocean & feeling the seaweed entangle your legs; unseen but disturbing- more times than we'd care to recall. But we're still getting in the water, squealing & splashing & swimming. </div>
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This poem of Hollie Holden's captured it so well for me this week.</div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: inherit;">When you walk slowly enough</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: inherit;">And with your eyes</span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-family: inherit;">Always alive to beauty</span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-family: inherit;">You cannot help but notice</span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Bright Unstoppability</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="textexposedshow" style="color: red;">Of flowers</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="color: red;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Cracking their way</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Through concrete</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="textexposedshow" style="color: red;">On walls and pavements</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="color: red;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And in between bricks.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: red;">I asked one this morning:</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="color: red;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: red;">How did you grow?</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="color: red;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">She answered me</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: red;">Quietly:</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="color: red;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: red;">'Hardness and lack of welcome are no match</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="color: red;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: red;">For the power of the soft, sure determination</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="color: red;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: red;">Of one who knows</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="color: red;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Exactly who she is'</span></span><br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/hollieholdenlove/"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Hollie Holden</span></a><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">May 2016</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEyvO5d9BzoCRSciA52ge4qgVaNAGa4cE35LM4iwpbpQJ8m_QFwv4tp-Kt3wK7Hy5SWt5HIqHDhMkejo9oXW6KeEGWUzGdlQK0Kj_seKeZma8wlgqoacGsLdFpAd4OqHopsDL_uAivJPhS/s1600/DSCN0351.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEyvO5d9BzoCRSciA52ge4qgVaNAGa4cE35LM4iwpbpQJ8m_QFwv4tp-Kt3wK7Hy5SWt5HIqHDhMkejo9oXW6KeEGWUzGdlQK0Kj_seKeZma8wlgqoacGsLdFpAd4OqHopsDL_uAivJPhS/s400/DSCN0351.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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That's exactly what we discovered on our journey-that we know exactly who we are.<br />
We joined a theatre full of locals at the movies & went to see Hunt For The The Wilder People.<br />
If the trailer makes you laugh, you'll love the movie. If you don't get it, then it may be a tad too Kiwi for you.</div>
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Ricky Baker isn't too thrilled with the hand that life has dealt him & he's got himself in to a bit of strife. At one point he tells "Uncle" very indignantly "I didn't chose this scux life, this scux life chose me!!!" </div>
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There comes a point when Uncle & Ricky are standing looking down across a valley from high up on a bush clad mountain. "Majestical!" exclaims Uncle. </div>
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"That's not even a word", Ricky corrects him.</div>
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Scux to Majestical sounds like a great life journey to me.</div>
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That's what I've signed up for.</div>
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Moving on from Gisborne, traveling through country-side we've never seen before, we came across a place called Gray's Bush. It is truly the most majestically sacred place I have ever encountered.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH_Ui5Dpn6vjehvCL8l4Ik92kC-M_NSPr_Rcv7_t9WATH-xIfIfpCKqG9KgW29EhDH4Vq3esoh8fJ6gVdpgUoOIKCrP2EtyM14XUVgDilXlxhqjBi8Loa01LV0oNHcCwAX6ZC107hCoG5R/s1600/IMG_0022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH_Ui5Dpn6vjehvCL8l4Ik92kC-M_NSPr_Rcv7_t9WATH-xIfIfpCKqG9KgW29EhDH4Vq3esoh8fJ6gVdpgUoOIKCrP2EtyM14XUVgDilXlxhqjBi8Loa01LV0oNHcCwAX6ZC107hCoG5R/s640/IMG_0022.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="text-align: center;">The bush is rare & precious & filled with puriri trees (most unusual in our native bush)</span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;">& the birdsong-a mesmerising heavenly chorus.</span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;">The flowers of the Puriri tree are vibrant & inviting.</span><br />
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<a href="http://leafland.co.nz/product/vitex-lucens-puriri/"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR08gLbmRVW0AHz05NJiDSS_xkQnVFUow4B-MCb_KY8ai0fB79mDyd6li3ItpSG0DRpG1s25Ec7Rn2NdpV-sroIvEImSecLiV8WWiCJvLrDmFK3akz5U1niOc4iI3mgVH5t5c6EciVIPlp/s640/Vitex-lucens-Puriri.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="text-align: center;">The berries are beautiful too, no wonder the Wood Pigeons love them so.</span><br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/sondyaustin/2338281947"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeram-dtMswiDcNgiIRmdZe4wjFz295uwOtVQss-8OU3vIkMRszIyzbFvVNNDXb17yynP-_HtZ8gue3TJ6S7YKQ8h0UHAyqnPNegu_kODH-5tWVfaWteeX7SmzS-NbPHprmqEMAg8FZRUf/s640/Puriri+Berries.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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From Gisborne we headed through the Waioeka Gorge & on to Whakatane.</div>
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They have a marvellous Hospice Shop in Whakatane!</div>
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I just caught this window dressing before it was removed.</div>
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This cute vintage basket was just right there in the window waiting for me.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixi_NPri1n5cfaxrmTTU4FJ795SvAmOJNeOZBEERwhm9YmVjpg6O0_TgOaW-m3epGn56NabqpGn-6v-0CFsrLTcV0XF1zdChWF_WbR7iIv3FaUo5fmfBA9GfSnq7ORwtO1zP51PAGQYGjb/s1600/DSCN8036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixi_NPri1n5cfaxrmTTU4FJ795SvAmOJNeOZBEERwhm9YmVjpg6O0_TgOaW-m3epGn56NabqpGn-6v-0CFsrLTcV0XF1zdChWF_WbR7iIv3FaUo5fmfBA9GfSnq7ORwtO1zP51PAGQYGjb/s640/DSCN8036.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
Beautifully laid out & so many treasures to be found.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYXD7-R4OfrK4bbKnX-TXP5cWtE_cFhz_lK44xQOdN9p2obMbLA6M72eUYBquORcycMGszJi4VmdHvPFJEc5L97rtVUNzRAKlCflcXSnaWFXiIIusDlafr0txOfjgHvPxex5LI1sqegjyQ/s1600/DSCN7935.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYXD7-R4OfrK4bbKnX-TXP5cWtE_cFhz_lK44xQOdN9p2obMbLA6M72eUYBquORcycMGszJi4VmdHvPFJEc5L97rtVUNzRAKlCflcXSnaWFXiIIusDlafr0txOfjgHvPxex5LI1sqegjyQ/s640/DSCN7935.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
A little knitting graffiti was fun to find.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTp6XGDU09LABLIPAroi5SGTnivS0HJjqdKmy1EvuY6RNWanpgM-mJ6BmH1bJoD3XDI-BA51eUS0P6NgqMyD_7ULHyVKov9sP4HaCp4HoKsWvRZQmhsTT8LYPpp9IoKxeTkRWaemhSs19_/s1600/IMG_0039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTp6XGDU09LABLIPAroi5SGTnivS0HJjqdKmy1EvuY6RNWanpgM-mJ6BmH1bJoD3XDI-BA51eUS0P6NgqMyD_7ULHyVKov9sP4HaCp4HoKsWvRZQmhsTT8LYPpp9IoKxeTkRWaemhSs19_/s640/IMG_0039.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
And how interesting to meet Pohutukawa covered sentinel, Pohaturoa Rock-just plonked right here in the centre of town.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2KIj9v2FyHEK1qPV-pmmSHIa9ryHjY8IA5_BHtGyMfYQL2MJQZXLo5fPpB_DC7n9ORJ5Z-inK94NTQBZTEMulWdXi-dIUQcT8bPdsXWvFicmu1Hn0zMDbo7PqzkaXlnbgixTnazlPXdwK/s1600/IMG_0056.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2KIj9v2FyHEK1qPV-pmmSHIa9ryHjY8IA5_BHtGyMfYQL2MJQZXLo5fPpB_DC7n9ORJ5Z-inK94NTQBZTEMulWdXi-dIUQcT8bPdsXWvFicmu1Hn0zMDbo7PqzkaXlnbgixTnazlPXdwK/s640/IMG_0056.jpg" width="640" /></a><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: inherit;">Pohaturoa Rock is the local tribe’s (Ngati Awa) spiritual and
physical ancestral connection to the area. The Ngati Awa have always performed
ceremonies of birth, death, war and other important matters here. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: inherit;">I loved this poem written by Clive Kingsley-Smith in 1983.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: "britannic bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Challenging sentinal, solitary, steadfast<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: "britannic bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;">There at the crossroads he stands!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: "britannic bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Silently waiting, eternally watching,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: "britannic bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Timelessness held in his hands.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: "britannic bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Grey, grey with the plumes of eternity,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: "britannic bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Grey with the records of time,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: "britannic bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Grey in his ancient, revered paternity,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: "britannic bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Recorded in Maoriland rhyme!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: "britannic bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rugged by nature from time immemorial,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: "britannic bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Unmoved by aeons of grace!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: "britannic bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Red Pohutakawa, and creepers arboreal,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: "britannic bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Screening the scars on his face!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: "britannic bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Grey, grey with the seal of the centuries,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: "britannic bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Grey with the score of their years,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: "britannic bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Grey with the records of blatant humanity,</span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "britannic bold"; font-size: 14pt;">Their laughter, their groans and their tears</span><span style="font-family: "ayuthaya"; font-size: 14pt;">.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "ayuthaya";">Now a walk through-once a cave.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw1eJb_bszzfRSRNf1wGkYYjMVkvjlorCFVri8ATlnuLPVNWgAcm6bWdya9pE3OBPnjTquAWUv11Vms0yioQfbccG0lZXgsc9iwxXyT9cyHvvvWKZqak7BI9c4jZyjGx6ypaW5oPVR2sEf/s1600/DSCN7944.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw1eJb_bszzfRSRNf1wGkYYjMVkvjlorCFVri8ATlnuLPVNWgAcm6bWdya9pE3OBPnjTquAWUv11Vms0yioQfbccG0lZXgsc9iwxXyT9cyHvvvWKZqak7BI9c4jZyjGx6ypaW5oPVR2sEf/s640/DSCN7944.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
Homeward-bound we stopped in Rotorua to walk amongst the Redwoods.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipA_lW68yELz7RbHaY-mBkwPVbQaGBEBdVLraCB8gyqir_oP13UbrYUS88Emu9NTG8upQZpyBGGnbxKd7wrpPnn61WMf0dayctZOdzbbDJBMTsv3Ruq_Jj2ttRY_Bskvby0ZmhEQ6ZoLmf/s1600/IMG_0077.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipA_lW68yELz7RbHaY-mBkwPVbQaGBEBdVLraCB8gyqir_oP13UbrYUS88Emu9NTG8upQZpyBGGnbxKd7wrpPnn61WMf0dayctZOdzbbDJBMTsv3Ruq_Jj2ttRY_Bskvby0ZmhEQ6ZoLmf/s640/IMG_0077.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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Only this time it was up in the actually trees, looking down through to the forest floor.</div>
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A remarkable piece of engineering & design work the <a href="http://redwoods.co.nz/info/redwoods-treewalk-rotorua/">Redwood Tree Walk </a>,</div>
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An engaging experience indeed.</div>
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When you know just who you are, all kinds of things begin to flow better & to make sense.<br />
I have continued to learn about the Five Elements. They just make so much sense to me.<br />
So all encompassing. And very useful to help in understanding your constitutional leanings, emotional make up, relationship dynamics, health challenges, healing issues & occupational propensities.<br />
I have huge respect for <a href="http://fiveelementhealing.net/five-element-healing/">Jason Elias</a> who writes:<br />
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<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";">"</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Chinese believe that the Five Elements- Wood, Fire, Metal, Earth & Water govern the physical, emotional & spiritual existence of human beings, just as they regulate the cycles of growth & change in the external world.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: inherit;">Each of the Five Elements has a unique nature & spirit, and every human being has a constitutional affinity to one or more of them. </span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: inherit;">For instance: the aggressive, forceful energy of Wood is most obvious in the season of spring, when the buds swell to bursting & the seeds sprout in to tender shoots that, against all odds, push their way through the earth in to vigorous life. </span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: inherit;">If Wood is your predominant energy, you are like the green stem of spring, you are driven by the need to stay in motion & to reach new heights, you are firmly grounded by a sense of self & home- the place where you fit & belong. Your roots are driven deep; your potential is unlimited"</span></div>
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<span style="color: #073763; font-family: inherit;">Rob & I re-did the Five Element quiz from over <a href="http://learnthefiveelements.com/5-elements-quiz/">here</a> last week & I was fascinated to find that we are both predominately Woods..with some Water. A few years ago I got quite a different result which shows me just how far I have come in reclaiming my true self.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #073763; font-family: inherit;">The Wood constitution very much fits the </span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: inherit;">re-discovered</span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: inherit;"> "me"; the one who prefers to work alone & just-get-on-with-it & who loves to be fully occupied with all kinds of projects & doings. </span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: inherit;">And yes, I am most certainly deeply grounded by a sense of self & home-the place where I fit & belong.</span></div>
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Of course there is even more commonsense to the whole Five Element thing in the teaching of balance in all things. When one element or season swings out of kilter or becomes unbalanced, then everything can get a bit messed up. Pay attention, balance things out & you restore or achieve harmony & regain your health & equilibrium.</div>
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It's easy for me to stay in touch with this approach since I am constantly in tune with the seasons & the land & so quite naturally these things have become a part of my daily life conversation & observations.</div>
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Harmony is a really useful state...even along the road-side there's a happy, unseen interaction going on that keeps everything in harmonious balance.</div>
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With-in the flow of the seasons there is a time for all things, every state of being.<br />
Autumn is the time for rot & return! A time to let go-of all that no longer serves us & to have a jolly good clean up, just as the natural world does the same.<br />
Eventually the hard work of healing & growing & shedding the past moves the mountains of legacy, until at last, pausing to look across the valley, I can say with surety..."ah, isn't that a majestical sight!"<br />
Much love, Catherine xxx<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhu7ov79AmnQrTZ14RygMHjtgnV_AuBIdbO9_QaI4lm6VcvSTX1Gk7yhGQX1V5csH-5_L125FcF-g5Vms0UMWurRfGBKpxyoGXRAIqGqxP_M969KsSNhjNxYUrU7HJaEQFxa-myLGGpSks/s1600/leaf+border+large.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="55" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhu7ov79AmnQrTZ14RygMHjtgnV_AuBIdbO9_QaI4lm6VcvSTX1Gk7yhGQX1V5csH-5_L125FcF-g5Vms0UMWurRfGBKpxyoGXRAIqGqxP_M969KsSNhjNxYUrU7HJaEQFxa-myLGGpSks/s400/leaf+border+large.png" width="400" /></a></div>
Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-7500091787988721232016-04-25T12:19:00.000+12:002016-04-25T12:21:00.065+12:00Abundantly Clear<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I didn't plan to be away a long time, </div>
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it's just that abundance (and Watties) got in the way.</div>
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It's quite strange really that abundance should take up so much room & demand so much time & attention & really very peculiar indeed, that the factory that resides over our back wall, should deal with abundance too; a lot of plain, way-too-much-of-everything sort of abundance! </div>
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Way too much corn, way too many tomatoes, beetroot, beans & steam peeler machines and way, way too much noise!</div>
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In the midst of all this excess I have been growing & learning. I find Susun Weed's teaching to be invaluable...she has taught me ever so much about herbs & living real & wisely.</div>
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Last week she wrote about abundance just <a href="https://www.facebook.com/wisewomanherbal/posts/10154753419432586">here</a>.</div>
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I know these things to be true:</div>
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<span style="color: red;">"Abundance is free.</span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">Abundance is a gift.</span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">Abundance is open and flowing.</span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">Abundance can appear unexpectedly.</span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">Feed abundance and it will multiply.</span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">Abundance is demanding.</span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">Abundance is wild.</span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">Abundance is hard work.</span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">Abundance is a gift."</span></div>
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I am not very thrilled to find our lives over-powered by an errant & mechanically bullying factory I, can tell you. To be awash with the old familiar nervous tension & stress is incredibly uncomfortable & echoes back to the years where I was lost in family dissonance & unable to escape or make it stop. </div>
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However, through these months we have become resolutely determined to remain here on our own land, "our own bit of earth" & not be forced out. Since I am a problem-solver not a complainer I have been speaking up for myself, communicating the issues (the many, many issues of new, repetitive, wildly irritating, drive-you-crazy noises). Funny thing is that on "their" side of the wall they barely ever hear a thing, well certainly not to recognise them as a problem. Sound is weird like that. It bounces around & plays tricks on you. </div>
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I get very cross & cranky when it comes & robs us of sleep!</div>
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The feelings of powerlessness are very uncomfortable.</div>
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We have now armed ourselves with a clever app that Rob put on our phones so that we can record decibel levels to help us keep perspective & we've also researched the local resource management guidelines that the factory is supposed to be operating within.</div>
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We've lived here for 27 years & it's never been like this before; until these last couple of years. </div>
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So...I have been using The Emotion Code (you can down load it for free <a href="https://www.free-ebooks.net/ebook/The-Emotion-Code-How-to-Release-Your-Trapped-Emotions-for-Abundant-Health-Love-and-Happiness">here)</a> a very useful technique that a friend passed on to me last August. Any one can learn it. Dr Bradley Nelson teaches that the traumatic events of life can create trapped emotions that get stuck in our subconscious & go on to cause all manner of emotional, physical or spiritual issues in our lives.</div>
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I have found this to be entirely true. </div>
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It is possible to systematically release these trapped emotions & the patterns of response to life that we have been holding in our bodies, often for years & years. </div>
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So...I have used this experience to take notice of the trapped emotions (& inherited trapped emotions...<i>so</i> many of those!)) that have needed to be identified & released for so long, especially the ones that have been brought up by my factory interactions & overwhelm. Because of my legacy it is a long & tiresome journey but it has given me hope that one day I will be truly free.</div>
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Free to be fully me & I know that I have cleared a mountain of "stuff" already. </div>
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I have to add that I have also learnt to listen to my body; listen well & with compassion. This practise is now second nature to me but I realise that to most people this is a strange & uncomfortable concept. </div>
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We are so human & very complex beings so it shouldn't really surprise us that our emotions, re-actions & physical symptoms of discomfort & dis-ease actually seek our attention. The choice we must make is: will we listen? Will we love ourselves enough to enter the conversation that needs to take place? Frequently, when we ignore the chatter, the pain & the bruising & the niggles & we hope like mad that it will all just go away as we grind on through, our "selves" don't take kindly to being ignored, & often have no other choice than to find new & clever ways to get our attention until we are forced to hear. </div>
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In between the times of industrial trauma & healing work I have been fully occupied with the abundance of the seasons of summer & harvest...produce & seeds & making the most of the long days & the sunshine. Abundance takes an immense amount of attention & care-taking & sometimes, is just plain exhausting. I am learning to collect a little less & to prepare just what I need at any one time. I am giving away more at every opportunity & that has been so much fun & very freeing.<br />
We cannot gather it all in just for ourselves, abundance is meant to be shared.<br />
A sharp eye is the quickest way to open the door to abundance...<br />
have you ever met Malva before?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA2lLle3p1Ev8mDiJa5nHC7WOe675yyGopBehz7ZhjQ014TjQlq9n95qkFKGDCPNd8NMz9q2rOVbWxZav7wFT8xxPtMbjiJlFS93Q2WVpYpzVLkShH8wtr6Lk6JMuisQFDBkxJT6LKkmc0/s1600/DSCN7823.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA2lLle3p1Ev8mDiJa5nHC7WOe675yyGopBehz7ZhjQ014TjQlq9n95qkFKGDCPNd8NMz9q2rOVbWxZav7wFT8xxPtMbjiJlFS93Q2WVpYpzVLkShH8wtr6Lk6JMuisQFDBkxJT6LKkmc0/s400/DSCN7823.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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She's ever so much more than a weed. Her name is Malva Neglecta & she belongs to the mallow family. Now that you know that, I bet you'll see her everywhere you go.</div>
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There's a wonderful lady Julia who lives in Tauranga she has written a very informative article here about <a href="http://www.juliasedibleweeds.com/general/mallow-mellow-and-soothing/">mallows</a>.</div>
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We found all this Malva & some dandelions on a vacant section while out walking a week or two ago. I ate the Malva for my dinner (really delicious used just as you would spinach) & popped the dandelion flowers in to some organic apple cider vinegar to make a herbal digestive tonic.<br />
Ok, so you're not too keen on me sharing my Malva with you. I'm sure we can find something else that might have a little more culinary appeal. Perhaps I could tempt you with a hollyhock flower or two, a tropical hibiscus or a Rose of Sharon? All of them "family", edible & beautiful. I <strike>have</strike> had never seen a Rose of Sharon (Hibiscus Mutabilis, Cotton Rose or Confederate Rose) before until a month ago, when I stumbled on a photo on the internet. So enamoured by Sharon's beauty was I, that I sent to the USA for some seeds. Then last week, while we were on our little road trip in the Bay of Plenty, coming in to the little town of Opotiki I yelled STOP!! & kind man he is, Rob screeched to a halt & backed up for me so I could meet Sharon in "person". I found another two bushes in Whakatane & asked for some cuttings at one house. Golly, I do so hope that they grow.<br />
I think this particular bush must be quite old.<br />
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The flowers emerge pure white, slowly turn a pretty pink & then fade out becoming rose pink as they finish, hence the Mutabilis bit after Hibiscus.</div>
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Bambi loves Malva though, he told me on the way home from <a href="http://www.cocoandco.co.nz/">Coco & Co</a>.</div>
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He was made in Poppa's Shed.</div>
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I think he's lovely but he does so often give me a fright as I walk past heading down the garden path. I keep waiting for him to hop up & follow me.<br />
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Lucy had a steady stream of nice visitors through the summer months. The pink windflowers stretching out their hands to greet them as they arrived.<br />
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We began a visitors book at last...<br />
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A little girl called Willow came for afternoon tea with her mum on Good Friday. They had just finished reading The Secret Garden.<br />
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So I left Willow some seeds & bulbs out for her to take home & plant in her own "bit of earth".<br />
I showed her how to find the seeds in the centre of the cornflower heads. They are quite a business to prise out with your finger nails.<br />
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Fiddly, but worth it. This particular bush flowered for four or five months this season.</div>
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We collected Neptune's Necklace seaweed at Waipatiki Beach through the summer & I pickled some using Alison Holst's bread & butter pickle recipe. The end result was just delicious & a great way to enjoy a free & highly nourishing resource. </div>
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An abundance of red peppers went in to this yummy frittata, a useful meal for a grand beach picnic.<br />
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I also learnt that a particular lichen that grows in the Bush, called Usnea can be made in to a tincture that is a powerful medicine that helps to fight infection. I then discovered that this same Usnea is growing right outside the back door on our Melia tree.<br />
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<span style="color: #007f00;">The Maori call it Angi Angi, also known as Old Man's Beard. You know you have the right lichen when you can see the white cord running through the centre. The tincture itself turns deep orange. Now almost ready to bottle up, label & have on hand for the winter.</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.32px; widows: 1;">Clyde's (Farmer's Market) magnificent radicchio are just perfect for autumn salads with their crisp texture, glorious colours & that little bit of bitterness that supports the liver in this season.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , sans-serif;">We were amazed, while out walking, to find wild mushrooms on peoples lawns & even in the middle of Cornwall Park a week or two ago.</span></div>
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Yet more free abundance.</div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.32px; widows: 1;">I have loved growing peans on the washing line. I’m leaving the last of them to set seed now. They are not really a cross of peas & beans, just a bean that fancy’s itself to be a pea when it matures a little.</span></span></div>
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Coco & Co is a vibrant little craft shop in town. The creations are very well made & very clever. I also found this colourful summer dress in the window recently, crafted by Susan at Fresh Vintage.<br />
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My favourite, most vibrant flower of all, came to stay with us in early April. My dear & treasured friend Gina came to visit us on her way back up north. What an absolute delight to spend time together. Gina was the friend who I'd never actually met in person but who remarkably (through this blog) recognised me in an Op shop in Palmerston North last year.<br />
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A friendship characterised by abundance, depth, sparkle & authenticity.<br />
Precious.<br />
Thank you to all of you who stop by to read my ramblings & thoughts & to those of you who have made contact in the last few months, either in person or via messages. I am very humbled that some of what I have shared has touched you & that many of you have shared your hearts with me, that takes courage & I honour you & wish you all well in your journey of healing, growing & flourishing.<br />
Abundantly yours,<br />
Catherine x0x<br />
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Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-14208586583398676782016-02-14T00:09:00.000+13:002016-02-14T00:09:08.463+13:00How to be a wild flower...The day I came home to my true, authentic self was the day that I found peace.<br />
-When I realised that I was here<br />
to be<br />
a wildflower....<br />
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To wander, to ponder, to gather, to savour....the wonder of life & nature.<br />
Have a little look at Katie Daisy's book trailer & you'll understand what I'm talking about.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="281" mozallowfullscreen="" src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/153849945?color=ffffff&byline=0&portrait=0" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="500"></iframe><br />
<a href="https://vimeo.com/153849945">How to be a Wildflower Book Trailer</a> from <a href="https://vimeo.com/ghostvillagefilms">Gabriel James</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br />
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The wild flowers are the enduring ones, the unfussy & unpretentious blooms that flourish where-ever they find themselves & merrily, freely share their seeds around in wild places or treasured gardens. They etch themselves into the stories & the memories of the gardens of childhood & mother's love; attracting beneficial insects & gracing the bouquets of both brides & of children alike.<br />
Chocolate Lace Flower is a niece of Bishops's Flower also known as Lady's Lace & Lace Flower or even Bullworth & White Fennel.<br />
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Charming & frequently medicinal too, there is a resilience amongst the wildflowers that is unmatched in the cultivated garden world.<br />
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They are the ones that have stood the test of time yet are no longer available in the garden centres & commercial places. Still they remain the flowers that cottage gardener's still love to grow.<br />
It is the time for collecting the seeds of these treasures & what a mess they so generously create...paper bags & baskets filled with stems & pods can be found on almost every surface inside & out of our little house.<br />
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So, fortunately I recently found an old painter or paperer's box at the Salys...<br />
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& I rummaged around for the exquisite seed packet pictures that I had tucked away from an old calendar.<br />
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I used up some old paint that Rob had poured for me another time & that was now so lumpy as to be unusable but once I added a little water I had a good mix to wash the well-worn wood with.<br />
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A coat to two or modge podge to seal the pictures & I am now a good deal more in order.</div>
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Being a wildflower means that you are always learning & observing & looking out for stuff & wondering. And then, of course, you are amazed at every new find...like this Gum Emperor moth that I spied on the tarseal in the supermarket carpark as we were one day wandering through.<br />
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I gently scooped him up & popped him in my bag with my foraged elderberries<br />
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to take him home for care..<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqGpswsL3RiTA_1GCged_G6PUwdvqT9lJALXUTCsL9gDwLV8GJVbM1cwMGK79tDllg1uHUGK7CFYkWo-aRBeiLGsMJMQgseSoWvNw2JtxsP_fSLg-TbmyvuLB32nb2G4wE6q895ZVa_y7G/s1600/DSCN9779.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqGpswsL3RiTA_1GCged_G6PUwdvqT9lJALXUTCsL9gDwLV8GJVbM1cwMGK79tDllg1uHUGK7CFYkWo-aRBeiLGsMJMQgseSoWvNw2JtxsP_fSLg-TbmyvuLB32nb2G4wE6q895ZVa_y7G/s640/DSCN9779.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
admiration<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-CG6Ha9B5yrtjcin7WKZiWvd0TYRtUGlcfvkDeWRO4lkseuLUSoN0El9Yw5iLUgSrygUFUX49Yk-8v_WIcs6sAFOzS3awr2upF_JQwU5zb-b8AVYVzXvNN_2EHXGlyjUqKDcfvwrM7x06/s1600/DSCN9784.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-CG6Ha9B5yrtjcin7WKZiWvd0TYRtUGlcfvkDeWRO4lkseuLUSoN0El9Yw5iLUgSrygUFUX49Yk-8v_WIcs6sAFOzS3awr2upF_JQwU5zb-b8AVYVzXvNN_2EHXGlyjUqKDcfvwrM7x06/s640/DSCN9784.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
& revival.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnePDaOwF_2b8mFxtYkYGCKvsZCRyNNn727TVO9onitT04Pb65TQKY2cx8dDdlBqmC9ZATV9ya0v4SmxeoG8UDawVE3YaEd2JYiWC79LTzohm-ov1VYVgfBVPCRwWUcEHula8qy31mFXxn/s1600/DSCN9771+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnePDaOwF_2b8mFxtYkYGCKvsZCRyNNn727TVO9onitT04Pb65TQKY2cx8dDdlBqmC9ZATV9ya0v4SmxeoG8UDawVE3YaEd2JYiWC79LTzohm-ov1VYVgfBVPCRwWUcEHula8qy31mFXxn/s400/DSCN9771+%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
Astonishing it is, that such a brown moth emerges from this colourful caterpillar body. We used to find them in the pepper trees when I was child, but I've not seen one since.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxJHAmOiglAmzmtWbmUVHV5vsrbeMQeOu8wFMp6FkwWXJHcNbjkPED4FcuYhGCnpwGh9zmWob3HCO0qiPfLC3TkprDX8eJV1GbjJFjcN36Nw0h_eE5Jzov3TybFnXe_nOFGsA2HZC7MNAA/s1600/Emperor+gum+moth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxJHAmOiglAmzmtWbmUVHV5vsrbeMQeOu8wFMp6FkwWXJHcNbjkPED4FcuYhGCnpwGh9zmWob3HCO0qiPfLC3TkprDX8eJV1GbjJFjcN36Nw0h_eE5Jzov3TybFnXe_nOFGsA2HZC7MNAA/s400/Emperor+gum+moth.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I am enchanted by the colours of the summer hydrangeas.</div>
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Bashing their stems with my little hammer has meant that they have lasted a week in a vase, in heat, undaunted.<br />
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Summer can be a little overwhelming at it's zenith & there is always much to do, but we managed to plan a picnic a week or so ago & just went...to the sea</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-LK_Dp7Bbl5NobbiG6_OabezKtlq3ytKic75lkmj6Nf5IiapRBOFR3IrGw2CXb6hC2gnFZfWxDzqXvnHALuOInn2X31KlK2gdo9h1EmXJ5MH3SLuDKjRFRG7ZmwapViW-rdWWj6_tZslD/s1600/DSCN9704.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-LK_Dp7Bbl5NobbiG6_OabezKtlq3ytKic75lkmj6Nf5IiapRBOFR3IrGw2CXb6hC2gnFZfWxDzqXvnHALuOInn2X31KlK2gdo9h1EmXJ5MH3SLuDKjRFRG7ZmwapViW-rdWWj6_tZslD/s640/DSCN9704.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
with rock pools<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRe4bDLJWt7ZTpEg0qYxIo3fR6AvMXsbc5JwBI-AAvGx6lxo36bAMHROJsVwzqcssPqiIAq1kzE7RfBa05Gionsb36f8PKnUorg-N_GXBMunU6wDasqfMU3w0svLZ6Nc4m7y0K-HMh8-yQ/s1600/DSCN9705.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRe4bDLJWt7ZTpEg0qYxIo3fR6AvMXsbc5JwBI-AAvGx6lxo36bAMHROJsVwzqcssPqiIAq1kzE7RfBa05Gionsb36f8PKnUorg-N_GXBMunU6wDasqfMU3w0svLZ6Nc4m7y0K-HMh8-yQ/s640/DSCN9705.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
and ancient native bush,<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizc8ethelrK0XJn6RiX2J4sQwCjW31Miae8uiuOJEN7S_AJmITWCt0VS0xHOJa9MNUvxvzEKcGdhd9xALnxb9OtC12383GeBuV42T26Jmq3PZ25IrTrC1dA08qxCOU3JOpdgAq5CTQhPCf/s1600/DSCN9724.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizc8ethelrK0XJn6RiX2J4sQwCjW31Miae8uiuOJEN7S_AJmITWCt0VS0xHOJa9MNUvxvzEKcGdhd9xALnxb9OtC12383GeBuV42T26Jmq3PZ25IrTrC1dA08qxCOU3JOpdgAq5CTQhPCf/s640/DSCN9724.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
where it is cool & primal & fascinating things grow out of trees.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwoikyV6WHUVLtabdtFv26nj0zwQk0kQ_y5fHQH4ypMaao8-YW3VQ33XN0q2LuFO0h5LEtDyUnUAzIs5rzl6Oo8JnXNaCfdiR5_ukOwA-e46lf0pFF3oh8wU4ufykmqZoKRFJbW3bQnu4x/s1600/DSCN9726.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwoikyV6WHUVLtabdtFv26nj0zwQk0kQ_y5fHQH4ypMaao8-YW3VQ33XN0q2LuFO0h5LEtDyUnUAzIs5rzl6Oo8JnXNaCfdiR5_ukOwA-e46lf0pFF3oh8wU4ufykmqZoKRFJbW3bQnu4x/s640/DSCN9726.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
Wildflowers wind themselves along fences.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuxb6VsdG_ev9PmilBHs65k3z41cT6qGayh7UAA0NrbK4iEBsaOedF6VTptQX8ESSzIkk4BmK2ij6l1IOKWcoxo1d67gFBXrnQJBjaykVRZ9b123aA6ZvLVBz1fdGJFgfAF1iRF8bFkduf/s1600/DSCN9728.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuxb6VsdG_ev9PmilBHs65k3z41cT6qGayh7UAA0NrbK4iEBsaOedF6VTptQX8ESSzIkk4BmK2ij6l1IOKWcoxo1d67gFBXrnQJBjaykVRZ9b123aA6ZvLVBz1fdGJFgfAF1iRF8bFkduf/s640/DSCN9728.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
The earth is moist...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxGV6pnWgnLoF_K1pxt74m81SWC_F7kPR_aoJ3zkhF2UN07j55x3wpcyf6SyTmD9PF89AK2YJgI3NeR7MLjTJ7XSlEZLpoP1M_LOZT3wUM_N3KNeI00R7rcDs3-xqoIItaKXMZjs1OX5ul/s1600/IMG_0072.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxGV6pnWgnLoF_K1pxt74m81SWC_F7kPR_aoJ3zkhF2UN07j55x3wpcyf6SyTmD9PF89AK2YJgI3NeR7MLjTJ7XSlEZLpoP1M_LOZT3wUM_N3KNeI00R7rcDs3-xqoIItaKXMZjs1OX5ul/s640/IMG_0072.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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& gifts are to be found on the sacred pathways. This lichen: usnea, the Maori call angiangi. It can be made into a tincture that will help fight bacterial infection anywhere in the body.</div>
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It grows very slowly & is precious.</div>
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There is a peaceful brook..</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhidk_UJyJH_rsiZkuOzLUPMezfNAR8UTX15NuYasKZDFJ8F3wNIJGhKpGdrD7n-o3rw5QpBzjd10iOjfqvgZDYsef-2Pey6BiItZLKk0dHdqp-xv0yBuQ7EqL5Io1zd3cIVXe01ezVW9Gq/s1600/DSCN9746.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhidk_UJyJH_rsiZkuOzLUPMezfNAR8UTX15NuYasKZDFJ8F3wNIJGhKpGdrD7n-o3rw5QpBzjd10iOjfqvgZDYsef-2Pey6BiItZLKk0dHdqp-xv0yBuQ7EqL5Io1zd3cIVXe01ezVW9Gq/s640/DSCN9746.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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that is a perfect spot for a celebration picnic. We frightened a family of <a href="http://predatorfreenz.org/fernbirds-flourishing-at-sinclair-wetlands/">fern birds </a>out of the long grass at the riverside. They are very rare & precious too & not very good at flying. </div>
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There are still times in my days when I notice that I feel quite shut in, shut down or sad.<br />
And then one morning I read these words (you may have to click on the picture to see all the words):<br />
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And so that's exactly what I did.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN0455Y5drCJq5_T6lH_9E9xzCdRCxSKXQr5quDzi4LgnuWI3oeoG6lxlXpwQTM7gjWhxqYBg9Pcb9Op09-f_k5sw8zFhGZKeUQPcWvO3BUPEn4FfdfhqubxFaMGSqoRYtJOkweRMVIBsT/s1600/DSCN9894.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN0455Y5drCJq5_T6lH_9E9xzCdRCxSKXQr5quDzi4LgnuWI3oeoG6lxlXpwQTM7gjWhxqYBg9Pcb9Op09-f_k5sw8zFhGZKeUQPcWvO3BUPEn4FfdfhqubxFaMGSqoRYtJOkweRMVIBsT/s640/DSCN9894.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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And quite soon we had made friends, several actually.</div>
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I intend to invite them for tea more often.</div>
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After this little session things became quite clear on the matter & I realised that I could choose to no longer be bullied by another's refusal to allow discussion or honesty.</div>
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I recalled how precious I am & the tea soothed away the gloom. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaWuVDKGzUmZMZYqPTvDTOUVk2_KjZQ45P3UsexNOVmpaYIjA1EZHWAh6Idj-t2cL02WPmzrEZC-cuUO3aXvyXlwhu6JqE9Y5Ai6O56B9KmOsZab_8XYI2FneAdAOk-q6ZZf0n8UdhkD2V/s1600/DSCN9902.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaWuVDKGzUmZMZYqPTvDTOUVk2_KjZQ45P3UsexNOVmpaYIjA1EZHWAh6Idj-t2cL02WPmzrEZC-cuUO3aXvyXlwhu6JqE9Y5Ai6O56B9KmOsZab_8XYI2FneAdAOk-q6ZZf0n8UdhkD2V/s640/DSCN9902.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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I admire this wonderful creation often, just now. It was a sweet gift from my dear nephew. I have blue-tacked it to my my kitchen cupboards so that I can see it a lot.</div>
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That's me with golden hair & Rob is driving. Lucy in the sky with diamonds!</div>
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It is a tree of life, I just know it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxe0NN3hTK33wHq5zbaQqBTP81TjQw17m8bY8AOdp87dvp2K0Ey9vd2S2wY33TFYqlcAHhKOIRtqDLKvELOqwQKM-ThnaWrWRNvTn0Jn1YVh4rgVR95iDHqFMTy-NElxQ_oC2luYXmlSCT/s1600/DSCN9934.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxe0NN3hTK33wHq5zbaQqBTP81TjQw17m8bY8AOdp87dvp2K0Ey9vd2S2wY33TFYqlcAHhKOIRtqDLKvELOqwQKM-ThnaWrWRNvTn0Jn1YVh4rgVR95iDHqFMTy-NElxQ_oC2luYXmlSCT/s640/DSCN9934.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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Just as Katie Daisy's tree...of life.</div>
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I feel filled with life & wonder when I see these pictures.</div>
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Must be because I am a wildflower.</div>
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<a href="https://www.pinterest.com/pin/108649409736848016/"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfNKPP1JoZBOBafiYfneCq2T_SIMgBEshQ3fdIlnufM1IQCtK_Y9znQ5S18iC7LZpoErJVfTbeHgL0Oj67Ay-Md_LXugF3Wfv-84VOPX9jxJwrn9A1LVT7XHcInaVDIvxk_Cv3X1dZIAuG/s640/Tree+of+life.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
who wanders, gathers, ponders & savours.... the wonders of life & nature.<br />
<br />
Much love to you all, dear friends & readers....how amazed I am that you come to visit me here. I treasure, always, the lovely things that you reflect & share.....& your kindness.<br />
You are marvellous! Thank you x0x0x<br />
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Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-82766446442984393542016-01-27T23:27:00.000+13:002016-05-08T18:59:34.764+12:00Giving The Fairy Feet<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I've never really been a wishful thinker or a flibbety-gibbet. I'm not a dreamer or a schemer, nor do I get lost in fairytales.</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> I would have liked a happy life.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Just that.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">But we don't get to chose our heritage, do we. We are given what we get!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">And then it's our work to do, to resolve, heal & redeem.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">My journey has been hard. Many times I have nearly drowned, yet here I am, having plumbed to the bottom in the murk, now gliding in calm clear waters.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #502323; font-family: inherit;">The tools I need to build with are now in my hands, the strength is in </span><span style="color: #502323; font-family: inherit;">my back & the fairy now has feet, at last.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #502323;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I am well practised in the language of authenticity & the arts of imperfection. I have let go all the structures & the judgments of the past & I now rest.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #502323;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I rest in being me; fully.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #502323;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">In the early days of blogging I "met" a dear kindred soul who wrote at Fading Grace. Many are the metamorphoses of Sophie who quite recently wrote this truly charming dedication to her followers & friends over at </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #502323;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://hettiebrown0.blogspot.co.nz/search?updated-max=2015-10-22T08:48:00-07:00&max-results=7&start=21&by-date=false">hettie brown </a>: </span></span></div>
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...."It seems a shame to me to give way, to the more popular, more stylish, younger, thinner, perfect bloggers, although they too have their place. What about the not so perfect, the slightly wonky, the ones who admit to their failures and crapness at times, I think we are worthy too.</div>
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So I continue to scribble away here, with my heart on my sleeve, with my successes and total pants failures. I am being brave, I have no idea who reads it, and some idea of those who do who i wished didn't. When i dont write , I miss it, when I stop missing it, Ill stop writing.....</div>
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So I dedicate this blog and all its writings from this post onwards to the</div>
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Wonky, broken people who happen to stop by,<br />
to the shy and introverted, and maybe not so,</div>
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who always drop their dinner down their fronts and mostly look like they've been dragged through a hedge backwards,</div>
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to those who wear big knickers and knit their own socks,</div>
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who are fraying and maybe greying a little round the edges......</div>
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To all the misplaced souls who strive for perfection and never quite reach it</div>
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I write this blog for you<br />
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Love</div>
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<a href="http://hettiebrown0.blogspot.co.nz/search?updated-max=2015-10-22T08:48:00-07:00&max-results=7&start=21&by-date=false">hettie brown</a>"</div>
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Here I am one of the wonky & not quite so broken ones, only dropping my dinner down my front on occasions. As to the big knickers...well you'll never know!</div>
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Sophie's words make me feel right at home; found.</div>
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Another friend passed on the writings of Jeff Brown on Facebook about New Year. Every day I am encouraged & expanded, empowered & strengthened by what I read.</div>
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It's about giving the fairy feet.</div>
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It's about finding romance in the naked fires of everyday life.</div>
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Oh yes!</div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/SOULSHAPING/?fref=ts">Jeff Brown</a></span><br />
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(The little ballerina is me, by the way)</div>
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So what does all that mean?</div>
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It means taking Pollyanna & making here real, grounding her...& I don't mean sending her to her room! As an old Pastor friend once preached....let it work grace.</div>
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In the fiery yet enervating heat of summer we fill our paddling pools in the garden & sit & rest & chat, not fussing that there's nowhere to swim. </div>
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We fill our pretty jug with cool water & lemon & we drink!</div>
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A little music might be nice...streaming jazz is great, the reception not so much.<br />
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So he put the little speaker up here. That's better.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKWt-dOMaXdiGyW91n-HfQ8O2AsFUmsDOjo0Z6gVLaV_UloJU9XBE3KlN4ZtQh3BojR2wbVHRKZ-kJDVkyz-Oi78IGxCddMmvQNRUXwNs8CQ8x9HFwxomsNPWIJRjS49sVLsKcFGjS7PU1/s1600/DSCN9038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKWt-dOMaXdiGyW91n-HfQ8O2AsFUmsDOjo0Z6gVLaV_UloJU9XBE3KlN4ZtQh3BojR2wbVHRKZ-kJDVkyz-Oi78IGxCddMmvQNRUXwNs8CQ8x9HFwxomsNPWIJRjS49sVLsKcFGjS7PU1/s640/DSCN9038.jpg" width="474" /></a></div>
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A kindy teacher from way up north kindly sent me some of her giant sunflower seeds. I figured growing up the nice high wall might be good</div>
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but the traitors just stand there waving at the neighbours!</div>
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The birds come & feast on the early figs & they are welcome, yet time & again I go to the tree & find one is being eaten & right beside it one is ripe yet untouched. That's kind sharing, don't you think?<br />
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Bright & early one morning, quite recently, there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find...<br />
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a long package containing a stick!<br />
Fortunately the other half was waiting in the letterbox.<br />
Shoes everywhere, leaves & debris scattered all around.....not so perfect (fairy feet)!<br />
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A spontaneous & thoughtful gift from my dear & treasured friend <a href="http://mythreadbearlife.blogspot.co.nz/">Julie</a> who lives a creative, crafty & truly inspiring life near Te Awamutu.<br />
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Our birds are so used to us by now, they made themselves right at home immediately.</div>
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I have been trying to grow hollyhocks in my garden for years now, without success & especially trying hard to grow the double dwarf variety. I've tried them in all the places I was sure that they would love & even in pots but time after time they would curl up their toes until...just one, grew right here. Apparently they are an oak-leaf variety.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZVY8q1hzD23RuK-bp3A1wPHr4-rBEFbySn6Gw5q9MF_LPGQRS2IJrLN3lYgtqkwitPCeS7fOCPXQdEBK_L4eh0OOV35NowBlXPEOvOsQ_qT5ILQ1WBipLcHm23GQBV60iO9T5urD8QUt8/s1600/DSCN9162.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZVY8q1hzD23RuK-bp3A1wPHr4-rBEFbySn6Gw5q9MF_LPGQRS2IJrLN3lYgtqkwitPCeS7fOCPXQdEBK_L4eh0OOV35NowBlXPEOvOsQ_qT5ILQ1WBipLcHm23GQBV60iO9T5urD8QUt8/s640/DSCN9162.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
I have tried some more along Margaret's front fence next door. Some are single, some are double most are quite wonky but they all make the most delightful hollyhock fairies.<br />
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I think I may need face drawing lessons.<br />
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It's easy to walk in to the Garden Centre (Green Door...marvellous place!) & see everything flourishing & vibrant & fabulous & feel discouraged that at home it's all flagging, messy & pooped<br />
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and that the snails have crept out night after night & munched through the middle of your petunias,<br />
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that even though you followed the instructions for pruning hydrangeas to the letter they are so late & lanky & are being very sparing with their flowers, like there's a shortage.<br />
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Sometimes life just feels like the paint spilled in the middle of the plan.<br />
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But then you turn around & look again & there...right there in front of you is the most stunning fragrant beauty that you'd forgotten you even planted & you inhale the heady fragrance & wonder whoever chose the name Heart Broken?<br />
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Outside the kitchen window high up in the neighbours elm tree we realise that the tuis have built a nest....right here in town! The tree should have been a golden elm but part of it reverted & got taller & taller & made suckers that come up through our garden...yet, had it not, the tuis wouldn't have built </div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">right there for us to watch them & hear them feeding their babies.</span><br />
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But even in the beautiful & happy-go-lucky world of the tui things go wonky. This wee one arrived on to the middle of the lawn. early one morning The parents were extraordinary & we all looked out for him for a week until one day it all became too much, his wing was damaged & he'd never fly. Margaret found him last week under the fig tree, dead but unharmed. So....we rang Anna & she came & collected his wee body & will use the rarely found & beautiful feathers in her flax weaving.<br />
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And so...having "got to the bottom of things" in me, it was interesting to notice as I drive past every week the old house,<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px;"> the funny little place where we lived when I was little...</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; display: inline; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px;">where I fell madly in love with feijoas, made my first attempt at concocting perfume, got a little potato stuck up my nose & had to be carted off by flustered parents to see Dr Earle to have it removed, </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">where we lived when I first started school & where my best friend Wendy lived just down the road (still a bestie after 53 years!) was empty & being prepared to be removed. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Just the right time to say goodbye to the past.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Peace.</span><br />
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Everything seems overwhelming in the sweltering heat of summer & we wonder how we normally manage to do life & feel a lot less prickly. Best idea is to plan an hour or two at the river & revive,<br />
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however, upon arrival the river banks were busy, someone was in "our" spot, another crowd had their builder's boom box up full bore tuned to the radio & there was rubbish all over the show so...we had a little paddle & a wander round & found another little shady spot to picnic that was quite perfect & very soon the noisy one drove off on his way,<br />
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leaving us to gently descend in to peace & tranquility.<br />
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Life is just about the moments.<br />
So here's to hettie brown & Jeff Brown (entirely coincidental!) & Pollyanna...to the wonky ones, the cheerful ones, the kindly ones, the ones still getting-to-the-bottom-of-things, to fairies' feet &<u> you.</u><br />
Much love,<br />
Catherine x0x0x<br />
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Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-8832206858223460132016-01-09T22:20:00.003+13:002016-01-09T23:58:49.002+13:00On a Mission to Home<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Now let me tell you a giddy wee story of home....<br />
The essence and heart of Sunshine Vintage began almost three years ago in a most unexpected way- with a celebration...a <a href="http://anangelinthegarden.blogspot.co.nz/2013/01/mrs-murtagh-tea-party.html">birthday afternoon tea</a> in our garden for Pat who had lived in our house some 60 years ago with her grandparents. The event was a delight for us all, a friendship forged that has proven to be a blessing beyond anything any of us could have imagined.<br />
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(There's Pat in red)</div>
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So surprised & delighted was Pat by her birthday tea party & the opportunity to view the old house that still held a special place in her heart, she sent us a gift voucher for The Mission restaurant in gratitude. Time went by & we had safely saved the gift for a special occasion, when it just so happened that our Matthew & his lovely Sarah returned to Hawke's Bay & came to stay with us awhile. The romance was sparkling but the means were limited so we decided to gift our voucher to the two lovebirds &....off they went on their first "real" date.<br />
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The following January they were married!</div>
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We let Pat know what we'd done & just how perfect it all was & of course, how grateful we all were for her kindness. But my goodness what did she do...gave us yet another voucher insisting that this time we use it for ourselves. So one steamy night last January we headed off to <a href="http://www.missionestate.co.nz/">The Mission </a>for my birthday</div>
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Dining out is not something that we do very often so it was a very special treat.</div>
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It may sound a little odd but we studied the menu carefully before we went</div>
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& we were so pleased that we did<br />
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as it enabled to make the very best choices.<br />
What utterly delectable food.<br />
We savoured every bite.<br />
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A romantically memorable evening.<br />
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In the middle of a mission of building "home".<br />
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So lovely!<br />
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You may be getting a little dizzy in my story about now but such is the warp & weft of building connection & memories; as history unfolds in both the predictable & in surprising ways.<br />
Matthew & Sarah organised their own wedding down in Kumeroa where they were house sitting at the time. Yet another remarkable encounter had lead to an idyllic setting for a small & perfectly formed wedding. Before they left we visited with them for a few days.<br />
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Such lovely country side.<br />
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Eventually it came time to leave the grand old house <span style="text-align: center;">& move along.</span><br />
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They soon found themselves up the Coromandel way at Prana Retreat Opoutere </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH2jSgEotUvHqH8B-1dN_7CjCgAhRSjGjRRjA3goOFPcDFQKcqTIVL1oBHsFY_CT1R9Vul-Xs8keEJwUvaAZw_plQR03jjLTeZeiBz__j0XYBgJKnbME4sJLTVVEPeovJ6DngRL9IWvlrA/s1600/Matthew+%2526+Sarah.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH2jSgEotUvHqH8B-1dN_7CjCgAhRSjGjRRjA3goOFPcDFQKcqTIVL1oBHsFY_CT1R9Vul-Xs8keEJwUvaAZw_plQR03jjLTeZeiBz__j0XYBgJKnbME4sJLTVVEPeovJ6DngRL9IWvlrA/s400/Matthew+%2526+Sarah.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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where Matthew has been running a commercial kitchen & they have catered for large crowds at various music festival events, including this last New Year.</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="281" mozallowfullscreen="" src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/146535003" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="500"></iframe></div>
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<a href="https://vimeo.com/146535003">Prana Festival is...</a> from <a href="https://vimeo.com/user46081007">White Light Media</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</div>
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It's hard to believe that a whole year has gone by since that sweet wedding.</div>
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And such a happy day.</div>
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An impromptu duet a little later...</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/YrzZ7dnfQRs" width="560"></iframe></div>
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And so the thread of connection is once again tucked back in here at 625N Nelson Street.</div>
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A humble bungalow, but one that has gifted many with warm & lasting memories of what is truly home. </div>
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It's that time again & our dear friend Pat has popped in once more bearing kind Christmas offerings. </div>
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Old-fashioned bumble bees have been shared amongst us & we have told the story once more to our other son & his friends as they tasted the sweet treats of connection. </div>
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Happy birthday dear Pat.<br />
We'll do our best to take care of the old place.<br />
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<br />Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-32168677265963981342016-01-03T18:18:00.001+13:002016-01-10T21:37:57.816+13:00Comfort and Joy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Welcome and hello!<br />
Happy New Year dear friends and visitors.<br />
I have to say there's a certain kind of grand satisfaction in becoming a sassy menopausal woman.<br />
I have been following my own rhythms of the season, saying no to that which is un-necessary or unappealing & since we are having a rather gentle coolish summer just presently, happily catching up on lots of my Hedge Fairy work right here in our secret garden... <br />
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There is so much to pay attention to, harvest at just the right moment, dry, sieve, label & store so that I can lay my hands on it all again when it comes time to sell or sow this year's round of seeds & plants & bulbs & corms. I am very found of this graceful wild flower-pink Canon Went linaria.<br />
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And I am thrilled with this little blue woodruff. And yes, dear Betty many seeds can be happily posted overseas. These were originally sent to me form Canada.<br />
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We have had so many lovely visitor ensembles come to tea in Lucy over the last few months.<br />
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Who would have thought when she first came all that way that she would become so much more than just a vintage caravan. I never dreamed that she would also become friend to many, healer, salve & sanctuary & bring us all so much <span style="color: red;">joy!</span><br />
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Golly, there were 6 visitors this day, so we thought we'd better make "boy" seats & space outside, but as it was the two young girls just spent their time exploring all around the garden. Catherine's parents were out from England & her mum loved our garden as she is a guide at Kew Gardens. We sent her on her way with various seeds.</div>
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It works so well for visitor's to bring their own food with them...<br />
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although on this occasion two lovely ladies had come for a secret garden visit & just happened to stay for tea.<br />
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I have found a third pink enamel teapot. They work so well with roses & alstroemeria.</div>
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It's so nice to be able to create simple seasonal vignette's in Lucy. Our raspberries were so delicious too.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixtllH2jNVC7H5NAWbD-W0KmgDS8KzWc-AqvGaHGocd1iW2BV_HEyzhp4ZxHIsJlrscWBe2t0jOqHCvbSCueUamC2m6gg7LJdQqlVs-UkYAi903QGIQDNEtRAJlvJP4w_J7-ttdSOt5Snh/s1600/DSCN8476.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixtllH2jNVC7H5NAWbD-W0KmgDS8KzWc-AqvGaHGocd1iW2BV_HEyzhp4ZxHIsJlrscWBe2t0jOqHCvbSCueUamC2m6gg7LJdQqlVs-UkYAi903QGIQDNEtRAJlvJP4w_J7-ttdSOt5Snh/s640/DSCN8476.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
I found an idea much like this on Pinterest...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVhvr3_tXuugVOfqroY7jXJ0k4uhHIwQW_cyWjQSdQ3IIs2nPR5qT_CLPFQ0D0fEaFfcJeMEa6vO_4TZXt3Oqh_-11THJ2lL8mCo1w2ggyz3fT6n6DlEvBjU3_-TchehqEKPZzZbv1yZUE/s1600/DSCN8390.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVhvr3_tXuugVOfqroY7jXJ0k4uhHIwQW_cyWjQSdQ3IIs2nPR5qT_CLPFQ0D0fEaFfcJeMEa6vO_4TZXt3Oqh_-11THJ2lL8mCo1w2ggyz3fT6n6DlEvBjU3_-TchehqEKPZzZbv1yZUE/s640/DSCN8390.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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but haven't had the opportunity to use the concept just yet. Needs more than just the two of us to fill it up.</div>
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We've had a visit from a fairy princess where upon there was a fairy the party shared with Uncle Rob when he arrived home from work one afternoon.<br />
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Lilies are magnificent especially this double one & fill the air with their heady scent...where ever they are placed. Close Lucy up & in the morning she is drenched in loveliness.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCnsI3SV4T7djdxIevXkhyphenhyphen8uZ6-br3zAeXSbsxZKTnKMsRqJnGRGfTuV5OMOiumg-j2LmB9EGadZuJ01g0rfU01HY8Sl1l9z6okHh-Qo9TaOafwI8QUOBAy2iB51VUPC84tKZNA_ADYter/s1600/P1040189.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCnsI3SV4T7djdxIevXkhyphenhyphen8uZ6-br3zAeXSbsxZKTnKMsRqJnGRGfTuV5OMOiumg-j2LmB9EGadZuJ01g0rfU01HY8Sl1l9z6okHh-Qo9TaOafwI8QUOBAy2iB51VUPC84tKZNA_ADYter/s640/P1040189.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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I've been on the look out for Jesus for ages & ages. I found him one day along with his mum & dad in St Vinny's window but the lady from the Little Red Book shop had beaten me to it & nabbed them all, so I had to be content to visit them in her shop in town. But finally I found him at the market in Napier sitting on the end of the stall with all kinds of um-er-well junk. He's a little too perfect for my liking...needs to be a bit mussed up, perhaps. The elderly lady whose care he was released from evidently dusted & fussed over him a good deal, during his stay with her; same cannot be said for his mother...the stall owner's told me she was in a very batteredly, poorly way.</div>
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I am amazed that there is <u>always</u> more to learn; things that you never ever knew about before.<br />
I didn't know about Linden trees until this Christmas. I had just been reading about harvesting <a href="https://www.facebook.com/susun.weed/posts/10153581681364198">Linden flowers from Susun Weed</a> & how they are so fragrant & nourishing & anti-inflammatory & I had observed what the flowers looked like & so set about finding a tree. One day I was buying some organic veges from Clyde at the Farmer's Market when I looked up & saw an enormous linden tree in full flower right behind him. Clyde I cried...it's a Linden tree!! Yes..said he, rather nonchalantly, the streets of Berlin a lined with them. I soon returned one sunny afternoon to fill a little basket full.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj32Da9Ra8e6sRglNST-9QqbuZzd8Fkk9e75d255TBkbDwdB5QubhoG-ObXuCO2AryyGebzJknaIkYXstyLTecs193t7CzNTpAApGmMkbiKAY0Ta9GSJ1MTLYXx-8ianQlN6K6UGPC-q6yO/s1600/P1040200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj32Da9Ra8e6sRglNST-9QqbuZzd8Fkk9e75d255TBkbDwdB5QubhoG-ObXuCO2AryyGebzJknaIkYXstyLTecs193t7CzNTpAApGmMkbiKAY0Ta9GSJ1MTLYXx-8ianQlN6K6UGPC-q6yO/s640/P1040200.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
But oh silly me...Linden trees are everywhere! I've walked past them in our own Cornwall Park a thousand times but never identified them.<span style="font-family: inherit;"> <span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; widows: 1;">In the language of flowers Linden flowers represent peace, truth & justice....perfect that they are all flowering right on Christmas here in New Zealand! The dried flowers make a lovely gentle tea that is calming, may help with sleep issues & overcoming colds... they are also anti-inflammatory. Linden trees are now my dear friends & so is the Melia tree in the middle of our back lawn.</span></span><br />
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<img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcBQ2TOhPOnsdeQ496wQOxIfEN3sCiI7D43tlP_0IBDW_6kbRnKuFLaA5DcJjTtxSk1T-Am1WwXEsbeonvpVV1fxFE3LWK96rL6UTUEaN4ahvqQI42wJUYS5C2W005vKynbf7OG5rq7txx/s640/DSCN8839+%25281%2529.jpg" width="640" /> I came across a nice looking recipe for raw strawberry macaroons last week & had a go & making them. They are delicious & so summery. You can find the recipe <a href="http://anangelinthekitchen.blogspot.co.nz/2015/12/raw-strawberry-macaroons.html">here</a>.</div>
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<img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFG6AUnq93Z_5EgH-BTksudvz3yXLF19OToNeOU_aHzDUI4CXdisJaHvMuZVDAYvRy-euRf35s0Vk1nMAyvYh53CHJQGqFzXBOp0mFSRHPWIJCgaI9nJ0WBf_rWAOAxIuNonN36J-P4CQ4/s640/DSCN8846.jpg" width="480" /></div>
As I mentioned a while back I have been doing some deep, necessary healing emotional work. It is the kind of work that rises unbidden & cannot be rushed. This is the peculiar nature of my life journey....light & dark, joy & struggle. Joy has been a fitting word for this passed year's journey...all the places of joy have made themselves fully known to me. There are so many joy-germs in my life & I am so grateful. They're rather obvious really. I'm sure that you can see them too.<br />
The darkness, well that's another story...really, truly another story because the imprint & the impact of the darkness happened to a small, innocent, sweet child a long time ago. I did not chose that story, nor did I have any hand in writing it....yet it has shaped my life profoundly; left an indelible mark like acid on skin. When I was five years old I came home from school with my father at lunch time, to find my mother had attempted to take her life. Panic, phone calls, ambulance, blur.....my mother was taken away & I never saw her again....for a very long time. My father told me what I needed to know, that she was in the special part of the hospital & that children weren't allowed to visit, that she was very sick & eventually, that she would never be coming home. I felt sorry for my mother but I didn't grieve her departure. There was much going on that lead to all this....she was to go on to make another three suicide attempts, the last when she was 7 months pregnant with another child.<br />
Through all these years no one talked to me about <i>my</i> losses or how these events made me feel. No one was there to share the sadness with me or help me make sense of the mess the adults had made.<br />
I carried the weight of the secret on my little heart for always. I carried it for the adults because they were so busy fussing about themselves.<br />
Then 50 years later, quite unexpectedly, I discovered that my mother doesn't believe or accept that any of this (suicide stuff) transpired. No, she is not fragile & broken.<br />
Now...the emotions finally crashed in on me.<br />
I am telling this here because I am also choosing to take back my own life...to find comfort in my joy life & all that I have that is so truly good. No longer will I carry the dark secrets that should have been shouldered by those who were entrusted with my well-being.<br />
I have found comfort in SARK's illuminating words (from her book Bodacious Book of Succulence)...in our family you were not allowed to have your emotions in front of others without being shamed or ridiculed. I wasn't "allowed" any emotions at all, nor opinions. Certainly not unpleasant ones!<br />
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I have connected with my anger...so much rage!!!, in all of it's disguises.<br />
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This year I intend to live like I matter.</div>
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I am going to gather comfort, joy & nurture around me & wear them where-ever I go.</div>
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I am going to look for the sun shining through every prism of life & rest in being me.</div>
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(I found this chandelier in a secondhand shop for $35 a few weeks ago...I could hardly believe it!)</div>
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I am going to act like I am as valuable as these wee boys.<br />
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And believe that I deserve tender care & protection & love too!<br />
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Look out...I am not just a menopausal woman </div>
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<span style="color: red;">I am a big cup of wonderful,</span> <span style="color: #bf9000;">covered in awesome sauce, </span><span style="color: #3d85c6;">with a splash of sassy</span> <span style="color: orange;">& a dash of crazy!</span></div>
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Happy New Year dear friends!! </div>
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Thank you for your visit & your kind thoughts.</div>
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Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-89968904753878463122015-12-09T00:10:00.002+13:002015-12-09T13:02:52.047+13:00Living Juicy<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Golly, I didn't mean to disappear!</div>
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I have been keeping up with Sunshine Vintage & doing some very necessary & deep emotional work. Meantime...the world swirled on around me & then quite suddenly it came time to celebrate our 35th wedding anniversary. Surely that can't be us...35 years!</div>
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We took some time off & went north for a couple of nights to stay in Gisborne. Although I spent a good deal of time as a child visiting with my grandparents in the little town of Wairoa I had never been to Gisborne before.<br />
We passed through Wairoa on our journey & stopped at a great little cafe called East End in the main street (well there aren't really many others, actually-streets or cafes).<br />
We loved this creative design in the entrance.<br />
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Look who we saw peeking out from her little feather bed in the rafters of the veranda...Mrs Swallow.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSrah-glUhHQ7tSxjjf7-fUZSozFPtzanNRNd2pmEZGheLZTvGK8L3sa2wKf5fFdMnnMAJx3jcS8TCPpQ1fdjplngxDoP-7xnej5YiWUexKmZ5-dBVDxdM0ozp1-vwNM49RQC3XL238jAx/s1600/DSCN8493.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSrah-glUhHQ7tSxjjf7-fUZSozFPtzanNRNd2pmEZGheLZTvGK8L3sa2wKf5fFdMnnMAJx3jcS8TCPpQ1fdjplngxDoP-7xnej5YiWUexKmZ5-dBVDxdM0ozp1-vwNM49RQC3XL238jAx/s640/DSCN8493.jpg" width="480" /></a><br />
We went & found my Nan & Pa's old house in Campbell street.<br />
I always loved that old Pohutukawa tree.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Z5LnNqbAOkoIpsudzJF70O-4Wxx8j-ayAY45LUE_XZIcskTGaFQBgS36tOG8E-N7IOrnCId77XrgGdtwJbpP_DS6EFgjKs-fvAkCdFxLIE66Wca7CzemTl9VkJCRcdjaKtj7Nu_RvVUs/s1600/DSCN8496.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Z5LnNqbAOkoIpsudzJF70O-4Wxx8j-ayAY45LUE_XZIcskTGaFQBgS36tOG8E-N7IOrnCId77XrgGdtwJbpP_DS6EFgjKs-fvAkCdFxLIE66Wca7CzemTl9VkJCRcdjaKtj7Nu_RvVUs/s400/DSCN8496.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
Then we found where my other grandparents had lived awhile.<br />
Wairoa is where my parents first new each other.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTuhpnXdDAM5cVBn1QAekiBlmB8_-GilGIRWY22LSaTAh8ZWXjE1jbykXTt9cK3x2ANcMlnxkLsDhslTnjLRrvRhr6J2lsZb00Fee3IQ0G56g_0bwaBXLlq3ICsGPnZ_l59rS4EVwnkmFV/s1600/DSCN8496.jpg" imageanchor="1"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5u638eZqhCCSyM4sfMn3cjB_bg0nwrWxY94uOyMt90mUW1mwv-AsIvcNeJXXOnZC6vUKvFOGlJ2m3KWdTUYfuO8UjKfh0twEeHpEBVkDcG5_pLD-kcZfBEJ1zpTEM_DYkyHZIc1PElEpD/s1600/DSCN8648.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5u638eZqhCCSyM4sfMn3cjB_bg0nwrWxY94uOyMt90mUW1mwv-AsIvcNeJXXOnZC6vUKvFOGlJ2m3KWdTUYfuO8UjKfh0twEeHpEBVkDcG5_pLD-kcZfBEJ1zpTEM_DYkyHZIc1PElEpD/s640/DSCN8648.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
The road to Gisborne is windy & hilly but soon enough you can see down the other side.<br />
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We were advised to use the back entrance when we got there because.......<br />
there was a night food market & fundraiser for the old steam train being set up right in front of the motel.<br />
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Goodness, we didn't expect front row seats!<br />
We were even given vouchers by the motel people & found ourselves a lovely cheese platter.<br />
All the food offerings were capped at $5 to make it affordable for families & to encourage people to try new things.<br />
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The train has been restored by volunteers over the course of the last 30 years & what a marvellous old thing it is.<br />
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Rob remembers a train much like this from when he was a child in Nairobi, Kenya.<br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;">Lots of palms all around Gisborne...they love the sunny seaside climate.</span><br />
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We found a marvellous & large bookshop.<br />
Fun Christmas tree idea.<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">Just around the corner we walked by the beach as the sun went down.</span><br />
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We found a wonderful ancient Pohutukawa tree along the way that looked so inviting some of us climbed up in to it's welcoming arms. Cool hut.<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;"> I love it when the tuis fluff themselves up like ninnies.</span><br />
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We searched out all the op shops & found the thriving Farmer's Market on Saturday morning just near the museum.<br />
Walking along the river bank we came across this very cleverly painted building.<br />
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The skies were so blue & the wetlands around some parts of the river most intriguing.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTuhpnXdDAM5cVBn1QAekiBlmB8_-GilGIRWY22LSaTAh8ZWXjE1jbykXTt9cK3x2ANcMlnxkLsDhslTnjLRrvRhr6J2lsZb00Fee3IQ0G56g_0bwaBXLlq3ICsGPnZ_l59rS4EVwnkmFV/s1600/DSCN8496.jpg" imageanchor="1"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5u638eZqhCCSyM4sfMn3cjB_bg0nwrWxY94uOyMt90mUW1mwv-AsIvcNeJXXOnZC6vUKvFOGlJ2m3KWdTUYfuO8UjKfh0twEeHpEBVkDcG5_pLD-kcZfBEJ1zpTEM_DYkyHZIc1PElEpD/s1600/DSCN8648.jpg" imageanchor="1"></a>
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It's a real shame that the rail link has been closed so everything has to travel by road or container ship.<br />
But we soon realised that the main route in to town for people, is the well used railway bridge.<br />
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And the primary pastime for many on a hot & sunny Saturday afternoon is sitting on that very bridge egging each other on & hoping that your courage might pass on by & help you face your fears & jump!<br />
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Posturing helps!<br />
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Next morning there were more goings on in the road out front.<br />
Around breakfast time there assembled an entire vintage car club.<br />
They set up a little christmas tree & piled up a mountain of parcels that will be given to needy kids.<br />
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The whole thing began to take on a hilarious life of it's own.<br />
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After a bit the Sallies turned up to play some Christmas carols, but alas, there was no choir.<br />
Soon enough some willing volunteers stepped in to sing-a-long. Not sure they knew any of the words but their enthusiasm was welcome.<br />
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On our way home we stopped at Morere springs. New Zealand's only hot salt water pools.</div>
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I spotted a new wild flower on a bank as we passed by. I've taken some cuttings...not sure what it is so do let me know if you're familiar with it. </div>
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Many times we have felt so alone through the years...the indifference of our families a harsh & palpable thing. So we were over-joyed to receive such nurture & warm hospitality on our journey, the enveloping of arms of "you're just fine" enabled us to relax & know that yes, indeed we are.</div>
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On our return home my lovely friend Gina sent me this:</div>
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We didn't just take a nice little holiday, we journeyed in celebration of connection. We talked about the transformation through the years, the waking up to so many things & the vital necessity of juice. </div>
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<span style="color: red;">Living juicy</span> means being truly alive & vibrant & growing & having resonance.</div>
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It means not boring the heck out of each other with the sameness & stuckness.</div>
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Living juicy brings sweetness to life.</div>
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In each other we find home.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoMKTYKPr_osov0AqWi9cNtV0D-omEkLVf7PxhiDtg3sAZpPyJCvNvnh6PaAB-KYJGKNitC1h9u4ifb00mNSOFC2d6ZdvsRyzlah2JFZWCYBQzRkNVdiOYSYPFti373hlub9g_tIpGG3Wr/s1600/DSCN8645.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoMKTYKPr_osov0AqWi9cNtV0D-omEkLVf7PxhiDtg3sAZpPyJCvNvnh6PaAB-KYJGKNitC1h9u4ifb00mNSOFC2d6ZdvsRyzlah2JFZWCYBQzRkNVdiOYSYPFti373hlub9g_tIpGG3Wr/s1600/DSCN8645.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"> </a>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-63906130641044221682015-10-26T22:47:00.001+13:002015-10-27T20:06:44.158+13:00Sunshine Vintage<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Hello dear friends & readers!</div>
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It's been a truly enchanted October in our neck of the woods. </div>
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A lot of sunshine & some jolly good rain which is a marvellous combination for spring.</div>
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I grow much of my lily of the valley in pots so that I can keep a close eye on it through the year & then when it's in bloom I can move it to the front porch to be admired & inhaled daily.</div>
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I think I may have discovered the secret of growing this heavenly plant, at last. If it grows like weed for you then you'd never bother putting it in pots, but here it isn't at all weedy, so <u>deep</u> pots it is & then best to "do not disturb". It's a plant that seems to like being a part of a close family. A handful of sheep pellets in winter, as the flowers are building reserves to appear, is useful & perhaps a sprinkling of epsom salts & then plenty of water & you should be just fine. </div>
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I was so pleased to find Ann (a lovely crafty acquaintance) on my doorstep the other day to pick up some Trade Me items & even more delighted when she said that she reads this blog & thought that I might like some lilac from her garden. <br />
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I was completely overcome by the sweet beauty of her gift. More than the delicious flowers I also learned how to prepare lilac for keeping in a vase. Ann had scraped the bottom of the stems with a knife (or you could use open scissors) & what do you know the blooms lasted for over a week in this gorgeous vase I found in The Hospice shop- very cheaply as it had a small chip & a crack.<br />
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With all our wonderful spring sunshine I decided to make our back garden a living room too. I hauled out the old trestle table door & with some careful tricky manoeuvres I got it up all by myself. I then decided that my shabby painted candlesticks wouldn't really mind being outside for a while & so I set the table as an invitation to outdoor living. As if I needed an enticement!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDKDyZcCb3sV5W3cXDubwbs-PO1L7yVrA6bnsXoSK6LtDWeJoYjhcK39YCGgNkmRAyf3TR2e1PXkI71uM9xdb_F0tMuBDe9nzDsXlnw3-xhWk0_tU71smc0pXDlixcuit6TNifQKedAwx/s1600/DSCN7611.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDKDyZcCb3sV5W3cXDubwbs-PO1L7yVrA6bnsXoSK6LtDWeJoYjhcK39YCGgNkmRAyf3TR2e1PXkI71uM9xdb_F0tMuBDe9nzDsXlnw3-xhWk0_tU71smc0pXDlixcuit6TNifQKedAwx/s640/DSCN7611.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
It doesn't take much to make a simple space feel like a special place to be. The table/door was snaffled for $20...unwanted & unloved beside a house down the road & the trestle legs came from St Mary's School Gala several years ago. The candle sticks had lost there silver surface & were being discarded by a friend...pretty test pot paints re-defined them nicely.<br />
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I couldn't help but open the kitchen window wide early one morning to take in all the floral beauty.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidQ1s0H6iKEtswPkoEPsEInQwCKjjjz2fL4DWM3Zjz8rHfbCfgzMezksWCoEtQECLowPsZt-f-aZd-SjB0lbhpWyFtL1OitME8eDCmeltj9K6H5S9pH3tJODta2hezujVijURvgGdpLLDU/s1600/DSCN7849.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidQ1s0H6iKEtswPkoEPsEInQwCKjjjz2fL4DWM3Zjz8rHfbCfgzMezksWCoEtQECLowPsZt-f-aZd-SjB0lbhpWyFtL1OitME8eDCmeltj9K6H5S9pH3tJODta2hezujVijURvgGdpLLDU/s640/DSCN7849.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
So lovely having a happy rhododendron outside the window.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcpdvYymGsgzlDv1rcrMFeNCubXUfpyUK7XNhTgcOV1DUBD3TsUDK-ZBB3PGcNOPaY46rldcAW8nirtx2QtI0s9Q2loksPnQgv7PXDY2mwkzceXTFIsrQy9UPNnhZMm20uhb8tNdD7FpAd/s1600/DSCN7851.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcpdvYymGsgzlDv1rcrMFeNCubXUfpyUK7XNhTgcOV1DUBD3TsUDK-ZBB3PGcNOPaY46rldcAW8nirtx2QtI0s9Q2loksPnQgv7PXDY2mwkzceXTFIsrQy9UPNnhZMm20uhb8tNdD7FpAd/s640/DSCN7851.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
In fact there are two. Friends.<br />
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Just like the serendipity of the rose Souvenir 'dun Ami & the flowering cherry Sakura gloriously entwined & flowering simultaneously.<br />
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It happens every year. Each in step with the other.<br />
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I was so enchanted with Ann's lilacs I went & bought a classic version for our garden. I am just digging up some knotty roots & then I shall plant it at the front gate so the scent will follow us all up the driveway every spring. Did you know that lilac flowers are edible? And they taste a lot better than I imagined they might.</div>
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Out our bedroom window Lucy is swathed in blossom. This one called Pink Perfection.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVGyf3fPwJZ8mQ5lFUpoHkNjZIeAXNq8QR8lTQgj5ESqEk36a82ZR64bV-TCtc3l9gPurt3Dr9E9UKDXq7JVWiR81uc7qflYnKRi2Bv2kzdqw1bI8AQ_2mm6-LZQrgSG8HmU7pVORU0plu/s1600/DSCN7953.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVGyf3fPwJZ8mQ5lFUpoHkNjZIeAXNq8QR8lTQgj5ESqEk36a82ZR64bV-TCtc3l9gPurt3Dr9E9UKDXq7JVWiR81uc7qflYnKRi2Bv2kzdqw1bI8AQ_2mm6-LZQrgSG8HmU7pVORU0plu/s640/DSCN7953.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
Mutablis is sweetly fluttering under the window too. No wonder she's also known as The Butterfly Rose, although it was originally named Tipo Ideale (unusual, not surprising it didn't stick). I am always amazed when I realise that so many of the roses I love so well are so old. The Butterfly Rose was introduced prior to 1894!<br />
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This quote by Elise de Wolfe fits me quite, quite perfectly so I think I shall use it as my mantle.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ByE0W8lXRMKavmM-KIP1uhMadyyomNZlK5aethSXvGdX4K10pfwkmXWX5kTZLruSmIQsA3etZMcr8ho867x0aIG8Tpc_TienMhBj51VWfUv0TKW7EMwOxn86eVeO6B0FHCp8ZAWpMjbm/s1600/DSCN7847+I+am+going+to.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ByE0W8lXRMKavmM-KIP1uhMadyyomNZlK5aethSXvGdX4K10pfwkmXWX5kTZLruSmIQsA3etZMcr8ho867x0aIG8Tpc_TienMhBj51VWfUv0TKW7EMwOxn86eVeO6B0FHCp8ZAWpMjbm/s640/DSCN7847+I+am+going+to.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
It is so nice to have so many different flowers to pick again.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2kTyudByGX2WSd0mYfXAgenNC0VuLWZJ_Yty9yxnvvnbhyueKf-qY63yeQIJPeWd9bY8IovNkBZzJ-JyDf8SGIoSjq27c5Oj5a7UpomP2XLzh1KCV7aAimgvmCvYSQGZZnOLjBQbnhuhx/s1600/DSCN7878.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2kTyudByGX2WSd0mYfXAgenNC0VuLWZJ_Yty9yxnvvnbhyueKf-qY63yeQIJPeWd9bY8IovNkBZzJ-JyDf8SGIoSjq27c5Oj5a7UpomP2XLzh1KCV7aAimgvmCvYSQGZZnOLjBQbnhuhx/s640/DSCN7878.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
These silly little things know that it's spring too.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjieR88-ngwjGSBWhkXtmdv4bk_WclvUNPdn7C7gACZKw5QFNjFKtRPplQlUdLYJira1Q8LHW2_Ul-wZe0GgVnrF3rjlStt08sBsrIXCdpVuiAELl6FGPfFKDOq7bSxgMeQQSvOtHNSS1PD/s1600/DSCN7595+A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjieR88-ngwjGSBWhkXtmdv4bk_WclvUNPdn7C7gACZKw5QFNjFKtRPplQlUdLYJira1Q8LHW2_Ul-wZe0GgVnrF3rjlStt08sBsrIXCdpVuiAELl6FGPfFKDOq7bSxgMeQQSvOtHNSS1PD/s640/DSCN7595+A.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
Which is all just perfect for nice visitors to come to tea in Lucy.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEXLTTmMifaPfE89p4wm4zlSVAj_f7D2hW1eiiwHwCTotEO2A4qBTZ4AHr_ExugS9lBlyomRtQnM5maLilbhiB7uRq7sVDrGjIJfGgzrdrCdms0ACXJYZKhTALWqXoc_349lDXotQxjTcE/s1600/DSCN7961.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEXLTTmMifaPfE89p4wm4zlSVAj_f7D2hW1eiiwHwCTotEO2A4qBTZ4AHr_ExugS9lBlyomRtQnM5maLilbhiB7uRq7sVDrGjIJfGgzrdrCdms0ACXJYZKhTALWqXoc_349lDXotQxjTcE/s640/DSCN7961.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
Phew...they bought their own cakes. I just made it all pretty & made the tea!<br />
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It has been the loveliest thing having visitors to Lucy & people are so grateful.</div>
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I have decided to make Lucy open to anyone to come for tea from now on. So I bought a domain name & made a simple little website: <a href="http://sunshinevintage.nz/">sunshinevintage.nz</a></div>
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That way everything gets all tied together...in a pretty bow!</div>
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This dear lady is a woman of the Au (the meadow) & after my own heart.</div>
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Such a lovely little video about her passion to make the world around her more beautiful by planting flowers.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXUeif4yF12XO5B5fVjNS74f2N2174sjTWDFrs3VRqg_USkRMWQvGJGL-r6QxaH0we8VjW9sas5_czex5HOBXZG8YKsWDi4ccFoUwc0NQXZBIcYtL1lC5ZdnsxWe_KAqh13R0K1nC5l0N2/s1600/Edith+the+lady+of+the+meadow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXUeif4yF12XO5B5fVjNS74f2N2174sjTWDFrs3VRqg_USkRMWQvGJGL-r6QxaH0we8VjW9sas5_czex5HOBXZG8YKsWDi4ccFoUwc0NQXZBIcYtL1lC5ZdnsxWe_KAqh13R0K1nC5l0N2/s400/Edith+the+lady+of+the+meadow.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="281" mozallowfullscreen="" src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/129320028" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="500"></iframe><br />
<a href="https://vimeo.com/129320028">gardening withlove</a> from <a href="https://vimeo.com/user40627817">withlove project</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br />
Click the link below to see the video in a larger format & there are some more photos of Edith <a href="http://www.withloveproject.com/project/gardeningwithlove/">here</a>.<br />
<br />
If you have time do please pop in to <a href="http://sunshinevintage.nz/">sunshine vintage</a> & let me know what you think. I will add some more information about the plants & seeds as I go along. And remember, you're most welcome to come to tea in Lucy...anytime.<br />
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<a href="http://sunshinevintage.nz/"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ9oJtXhKMlHigzR8ikUtbo9Gi91naHo4OMAt3oZJcZonlqJ5msOJtAlGsy5UXA3Hadfox7UfQ-Cus4odWjnAWl-QoP-YlgPscbSf_gInVE2lD5uNKJ21T18Insg6i1FQKjEilSsn_SJLD/s640/DSCN7891+2.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
Thank you so much for visiting!<br />
Have a happy Sunshine Vintage week.<br />
Much love Catherine x0x0x<br />
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z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2026836570304833522" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2026836570304833522" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2026836570304833522" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2026836570304833522" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2026836570304833522" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2026836570304833522" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2026836570304833522" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2026836570304833522" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2026836570304833522" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-58071835184532920112015-10-08T22:56:00.003+13:002015-10-09T07:32:56.080+13:00And out came the sunshine and dried up all the rain....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Hello lovely friends and readers!</div>
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Well the spring rains came and filled up all the rivers & made slips & puddles all over our land.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiszLww_vTEFlm-y1zl4HbDOymzdKX9OVasyGnOyVYxyQhivzmTypuZGz5SJY_19JELehRteb_Tsjs0mCOIZKC-u_t2EfAeZPKxBr4edMYdIGoQZe6Dhvc3YODWqUuqoVng9EoAlCT-9dyV/s1600/DSCN7260+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiszLww_vTEFlm-y1zl4HbDOymzdKX9OVasyGnOyVYxyQhivzmTypuZGz5SJY_19JELehRteb_Tsjs0mCOIZKC-u_t2EfAeZPKxBr4edMYdIGoQZe6Dhvc3YODWqUuqoVng9EoAlCT-9dyV/s640/DSCN7260+%25281%2529.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
I squelched around in my rosy gumboots for about a week.<br />
The tulips loved the drenching.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXfiEFn7fJrG-jE_TLqAbfrmlBwTeoBIaWJVbC32L1fLafX0H5HVIDWfr9B9hoYV-HWPhsnbURbRWrE-y_fcj7aFamE5GFzJZQPx6CQULwxZx1IBOyxtihmLMb_5GKuGQwZHFC9K7Gt1PH/s1600/DSCN7268.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXfiEFn7fJrG-jE_TLqAbfrmlBwTeoBIaWJVbC32L1fLafX0H5HVIDWfr9B9hoYV-HWPhsnbURbRWrE-y_fcj7aFamE5GFzJZQPx6CQULwxZx1IBOyxtihmLMb_5GKuGQwZHFC9K7Gt1PH/s640/DSCN7268.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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Isn't this Margaret Tarrant picture sweet.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi67pC37Wh4S2X6-eiNnrNUpzIRF9Xc6v_SmB1IR5YFe5V9y1iejbLQjyVKl3CU8YzJPqCG73AXuI0HB6bJHtL3lwqvkcmBAWSU2Ka7HRrjLYSLIzQ5wYc8eYCevuMU3GrFK0NiE6OpeCdb/s1600/Margaret+Tarrant+Tulips+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi67pC37Wh4S2X6-eiNnrNUpzIRF9Xc6v_SmB1IR5YFe5V9y1iejbLQjyVKl3CU8YzJPqCG73AXuI0HB6bJHtL3lwqvkcmBAWSU2Ka7HRrjLYSLIzQ5wYc8eYCevuMU3GrFK0NiE6OpeCdb/s640/Margaret+Tarrant+Tulips+2.jpg" width="398" /></a></div>
Others took it all with good grace.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaWFkVbFKKhtSsDdQZ6gzJ2uYpGIta2jPlyV4cp2myN9WeZJixEoxAatUuD9EbppHmVmIf6W6aks3Y40SpI4lrFrmEqNZhHvZDDP3DDzFGk-qOq_pqahg_mCpN75cXAB_TpY6vGmBh0laS/s1600/DSCN7347.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaWFkVbFKKhtSsDdQZ6gzJ2uYpGIta2jPlyV4cp2myN9WeZJixEoxAatUuD9EbppHmVmIf6W6aks3Y40SpI4lrFrmEqNZhHvZDDP3DDzFGk-qOq_pqahg_mCpN75cXAB_TpY6vGmBh0laS/s640/DSCN7347.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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Then there was a wee break in the heavens and along came the ladies from the gardening group.</div>
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In they swarmed, bustling all over the place, poking at things & nattering away.<br />
Someone thought they'd found a four-leaf clover down the back here.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqLRgIrpG3-Le8u6jwxWcNh8pJYWpR0zpKoyZry862ceuUxFVXE0XdFNEUfK4LQkiADd_Gm94aHfPiT8xlCXxNYPZJPsTq-cIo6OQkrTc6kdRRpiNNRh1wnOi64wAiKyTRfoW5pSS7POKs/s1600/DSCN7308.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqLRgIrpG3-Le8u6jwxWcNh8pJYWpR0zpKoyZry862ceuUxFVXE0XdFNEUfK4LQkiADd_Gm94aHfPiT8xlCXxNYPZJPsTq-cIo6OQkrTc6kdRRpiNNRh1wnOi64wAiKyTRfoW5pSS7POKs/s640/DSCN7308.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
And then there was the "let's see what's over the back wall delegation"!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5LygopOTPhgkmSO4dW7cVcyeuk-V-VWa654Yg7inrv4_9x_XlO8Yt81NwBI7-OxOS9tN1wSJH3uzDI9zh3EMB6202lmJWf2wIwQwf9POYkpjWhjqQCJh54YEntGlTTFSWMOpDytZV7xys/s1600/DSCN7304.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5LygopOTPhgkmSO4dW7cVcyeuk-V-VWa654Yg7inrv4_9x_XlO8Yt81NwBI7-OxOS9tN1wSJH3uzDI9zh3EMB6202lmJWf2wIwQwf9POYkpjWhjqQCJh54YEntGlTTFSWMOpDytZV7xys/s640/DSCN7304.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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And then, quite promptly, they were gone.</div>
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The bluebells have been such a joy.</div>
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I find I have some Spanish & some English varieties. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTwXywHOlKSIv3ha6z3OC80buUuf5CbHdUicRQmekdQYPo9E7OMbQsWZqOw5DwG0OaUF1-cfe2H2knWbDFPUMg9g4fG-1AA_mHGbHJ7aqEGDhy3ONvJ8dV9rCguOgCWZ7OaqoC8231DBOd/s1600/DSCN7475.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTwXywHOlKSIv3ha6z3OC80buUuf5CbHdUicRQmekdQYPo9E7OMbQsWZqOw5DwG0OaUF1-cfe2H2knWbDFPUMg9g4fG-1AA_mHGbHJ7aqEGDhy3ONvJ8dV9rCguOgCWZ7OaqoC8231DBOd/s640/DSCN7475.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
We've had lots of delicious smoothies in the mornings lately. This one is made with blueberries, blackcurrants, kefir, banana, chia seeds, ginger & a little honey. Set with a little gelatine the mixture also makes a delicious dessert.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIZ6LovlI4WMwxobl09CAYCBGEaTXZOe6TjzbIXPd94UIWCcZbtgmqXhkv4s0NaBYnkEpzvdKVsSx8VBO9hzXCQXqSayybvxiSrzaq7cC4SkjNOthihot5cxRWi0160Sw-mJUPYPHnRYXG/s1600/DSCN7366.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIZ6LovlI4WMwxobl09CAYCBGEaTXZOe6TjzbIXPd94UIWCcZbtgmqXhkv4s0NaBYnkEpzvdKVsSx8VBO9hzXCQXqSayybvxiSrzaq7cC4SkjNOthihot5cxRWi0160Sw-mJUPYPHnRYXG/s640/DSCN7366.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
I found the weirdest bread recipe & thought I'd have a go.<br />
It is absolutely delicious, contains no flour & is very tasty & satisfying. It also makes the best ever toast.<br />
I popped the recipe in<a href="http://anangelinthekitchen.blogspot.co.nz/2015/10/the-life-changing-loaf-of-bread.html"> here.</a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeLmVuJPt8EWci8CQIVR0c4HL_2ANbPnv0Izckbn7oIgVJ7htPKpa8mq2GB6gUNaHiCGkcTU5-_J9AQYej_lpvGpv5vFTYLnJzpgjw3QO62ofEUiB4AZfM4oa1oH-m917i4r7FHLxJVUTX/s1600/DSCN7349.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeLmVuJPt8EWci8CQIVR0c4HL_2ANbPnv0Izckbn7oIgVJ7htPKpa8mq2GB6gUNaHiCGkcTU5-_J9AQYej_lpvGpv5vFTYLnJzpgjw3QO62ofEUiB4AZfM4oa1oH-m917i4r7FHLxJVUTX/s640/DSCN7349.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
I am constantly thinking of new kinds of seeds to sell.<br />
I collected these pink nerines seeds in autumn & they are just starting to sprout, all by themselves.<br />
What elegance for seed dressing!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpVA5oCFJbisNuc6MusKBN5x6Ky826ThYXpT2Yzjclb5pIPhMeXxH1jhc8BgC-hnsvEHOFrkeYF0vPqyNeRu3J7KXSQRXaTymblp0GF5eJEs2N2gIdf7uPQeyMi0GZgElwDzL9OrUvFWzI/s1600/DSCN7364.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpVA5oCFJbisNuc6MusKBN5x6Ky826ThYXpT2Yzjclb5pIPhMeXxH1jhc8BgC-hnsvEHOFrkeYF0vPqyNeRu3J7KXSQRXaTymblp0GF5eJEs2N2gIdf7uPQeyMi0GZgElwDzL9OrUvFWzI/s640/DSCN7364.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
I know that violets like to spread themselves around rather liberally but I've never really studied a violet seed pod before...isn't it just marvellous!! Reminds me of caterpillar eggs.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Pk4kHRAWLnDG7hpy7-yGBCW8Ecu4hD_Rcjl2nWwWpelkQaHE1U-5-pKbMigHfm4zWot091-cBDW3JoETDkBtJd6Pxuj3QKv8L3Lg-ydy6yO4RgGTL9_EFKUbKS0AjRAJVUVjgxyehsji/s1600/DSCN7361.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Pk4kHRAWLnDG7hpy7-yGBCW8Ecu4hD_Rcjl2nWwWpelkQaHE1U-5-pKbMigHfm4zWot091-cBDW3JoETDkBtJd6Pxuj3QKv8L3Lg-ydy6yO4RgGTL9_EFKUbKS0AjRAJVUVjgxyehsji/s640/DSCN7361.jpg" width="518" /></a></div>
My dear friend Ruth was delighted to discover that her husband had not, in fact, sprayed & killed her unusual apricot violet, so now we have another to add to the violet collection.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLwqTQidh83qIgnHa-yERo2YX4VSC2K6aV7wxi6EOvLiQdW88px0RjI7ckPw3exwhcrC3hpZ27PBvBYbcBBLCOZjue-rupdJDlL14dQ_pIXSI4IVVzDoYciBrwoJDzfBIUcx4dVpDlAYMn/s1600/DSCN7209.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLwqTQidh83qIgnHa-yERo2YX4VSC2K6aV7wxi6EOvLiQdW88px0RjI7ckPw3exwhcrC3hpZ27PBvBYbcBBLCOZjue-rupdJDlL14dQ_pIXSI4IVVzDoYciBrwoJDzfBIUcx4dVpDlAYMn/s640/DSCN7209.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
While wrestling with the cupboard moths & tidying out the pantry cupboards I came across this <i>The Zetland</i> jar with a smooth chip out of the rim & thought...excellent, I'll give it the<a href="http://mythreadbearlife.blogspot.co.nz/"> Julie Lealand </a>treatment (ooh that girl's a treasure!!) I used the pastel pink Voodoo Molly Vintage paint that I bought a few months ago. After three coats on the outside it covered the glass really well. I then gave the lettering a very light sand. Love the effect.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj98KgegsglIN38YyuH2xcbKDiBHyS8MBUXLopsapxM5Zgs0Kag6UQQOM_z-79ck5lSylBe0T1VOusvoBxXij2YH-kvS_53XWZO7cwUGQWPYmeQ9kaYTIGWjzN7-cgoJZTUn2JBQGT7KYky/s1600/DSCN7390.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj98KgegsglIN38YyuH2xcbKDiBHyS8MBUXLopsapxM5Zgs0Kag6UQQOM_z-79ck5lSylBe0T1VOusvoBxXij2YH-kvS_53XWZO7cwUGQWPYmeQ9kaYTIGWjzN7-cgoJZTUn2JBQGT7KYky/s640/DSCN7390.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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I also painted a grubby old brown wooden tray with a test pot of green & lined the bottom with a piece of Rainbow Rose Cath Kidston wallpaper. I finished it with two coats of Modge Podge to make the surface wipeable.</div>
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These potted colour ranunculus & anemones have done so well through all the rain.<br />
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Such good value for $2 each as they flower for months & just get brighter & bolder as time goes by.</div>
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I so value these dwarf calla lilies for their elegant lines in the winter/spring garden. They last for weeks in a vase.</div>
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Sometimes people ask me to tell them about the seeds I have available that have high scent. I've learnt something interesting from this query-it's mostly the bulbs & spring flowering shrubs like this viburnum that are highly scented. Most annuals & cottage garden/wild flowers have very little perfume at all.<br />
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Delightful as it is, this little forget-me-not has no scent at all.<br />
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Freesias, daffodils & bluebells, however, are just divinely scented, especially altogether.<br />
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Yay, yay!! It's asparagus time. One of the main culinary joys of spring.<br />
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We went on a long walk in the foot-hills of Havelock North last week & suddenly came across three macadamia trees right by the roadside...<br />
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It's must unusual to see mature macadamia trees around here, but they were very happy & the nuts were beginning to fall...even some on to <i>our</i> side of the fence.<br />
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We also visited the valley where we know the wild banana passionfruit grow. They were just ripening too. Dear Audrey (my elderly friend across the road) told me about her mother bottling these fruits over 70 years ago in Wanganui, so one day I cooked them & they were absolutely delicious.<br />
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So strange to see Lucy & Rob going off without me!!<br />
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Good for her to have a little outing, get her warrant of fitness & give me time to sweep the space where she lives.<br />
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Then, out came the sunshine & dried up all the rain...</div>
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Duchess de Brabant thought she'd make a showing.<br />
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And Whistle found himself in the dog box.<br />
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I thought you might like to watch this marvellous video too. I love everything about it...the song, the setting, the joy & the instruments used by such happy, clever musicians.</div>
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</div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/WcLuUt-dyks" width="560"></iframe><br />
Worth watching full screen: https://youtu.be/WcLuUt-dyks<br />
<br />
Thank you so much for visiting.<br />
Have a lovely & peaceful week.<br />
Much love to you all.<br />
Catherine x0x0x<br />
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background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 154px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 17696px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-28689288308078820912015-09-15T22:46:00.000+12:002015-09-18T12:20:12.021+12:00Spring Tea With Lucy & Adorable Things<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A daffodilly, sunshiney spring welcome to you all.</div>
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Thank you for coming along!</div>
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I am so glad that I've learnt the rhythms of the seasons & to flow with them.</div>
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Each one brings it's own special gifts. </div>
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Our spring, here in Hawke's Bay, offers the soul-nurturing gift of Taniwha, a cattle station with voluptuous spring style & abundant generosity; open to the Public all September every year, for daffodil picking & picnicking. </div>
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So much verdant green.</div>
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Thousands & thousands of sunshiney little faces to walk among & to gather.</div>
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It's been quite a deep & profound time for me this year, as my process of metamorphosis continues.</div>
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You probably already knew this, but <i>I</i> quite suddenly recently realised, just how much flowers are so truly my friends & have come to grace every part of my life in the most marvellous & homogeneous of ways. I have begun storing my flower stories & passions in a new blog called <a href="http://thebluebelldiaries.blogspot.co.nz/">The Bluebell Diaries.</a></div>
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You can see more of Taniwha & the daffodils just <a href="http://thebluebelldiaries.blogspot.co.nz/">here</a>, if you'd like to.</div>
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Quite some time ago I asked if I could have an old disused concrete washtub. At the time of my enquiry it was not certain if it would be used or not, apparently the final decision was <i>not</i> & so off we set a weekend or two ago, collected some compost & the loan of a trailer & the hefty, cracked & marvellous old twin tub.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhR3C4FQTwRFoGzTGwEKGIR4csb_-qmwrzM5nOhCv0eNOamhjwD7ltKVFqwITAn2Z4Yz9A_Cv0QxZixLpP3_AF_8Gg_d4dcVSxvZhvuEEPU5tnRW5665cQzU0lwGz7Jr3Rbmy-A03BduIR/s1600/DSCN6868.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhR3C4FQTwRFoGzTGwEKGIR4csb_-qmwrzM5nOhCv0eNOamhjwD7ltKVFqwITAn2Z4Yz9A_Cv0QxZixLpP3_AF_8Gg_d4dcVSxvZhvuEEPU5tnRW5665cQzU0lwGz7Jr3Rbmy-A03BduIR/s640/DSCN6868.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
Rob engaged his best wood-jigsaw-in-his-head skills & made a stand for my new potting place.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfaupT07Zrr8OxfPFLAJ3OiImU5K15JNWL4fjX77GIs_hfUiuT2yBbRSvKZLYoMPCJ8yhRXrCefkxSobZLwSE2h-b47YtdWHX4YUz4vuhyxUR-0r_mwid7RaKOUYixlSZCrT1gjA5oyES6/s1600/DSCN6869.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfaupT07Zrr8OxfPFLAJ3OiImU5K15JNWL4fjX77GIs_hfUiuT2yBbRSvKZLYoMPCJ8yhRXrCefkxSobZLwSE2h-b47YtdWHX4YUz4vuhyxUR-0r_mwid7RaKOUYixlSZCrT1gjA5oyES6/s640/DSCN6869.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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We managed some clever maneouvures & saved our backs & fingers (just!) & got the tub settled on to it's stand down here in my newly appointed "shade house" & potting area.</div>
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Potting mix on one side & compost on the other.</div>
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Violets line the pathways<br />
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& welcome spring sunshine easily finds it's way to my special place.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmr7j6kVTVWbI5smuqUSK1GImGSdbxxsPsmXi23rCTBEzlYchUwQl8_SSLLGTUgszgCP6bWfQuxgrI5BPv2p0bmm3AK-xEUPUuFc8_L_u51fZ2IczG2ulaBxI7BvDaitn9qiqbwK1_UxVK/s1600/DSCN6982.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmr7j6kVTVWbI5smuqUSK1GImGSdbxxsPsmXi23rCTBEzlYchUwQl8_SSLLGTUgszgCP6bWfQuxgrI5BPv2p0bmm3AK-xEUPUuFc8_L_u51fZ2IczG2ulaBxI7BvDaitn9qiqbwK1_UxVK/s640/DSCN6982.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
As I make my way backwards & forwards I pass Spring Festival,<br />
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what a perfect name, don't you think?<br />
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I am noticing that the embroidery of flowers & colours interwoven in my life become more deliberate, dense & deft as time goes by.<br />
A wee while ago, my sister-in-law & very dear friend Silke, had an inspiration to foster community spirit & initiate a Facebook group for Hawke's Bay people called <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/youmademydayhawkesbay/">You Made My Day Hawke's Bay</a>.<br />
Here is her group description:<br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16px; widows: 1;"><span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"I want this group to be a platform for the wider community to engage with each other, to bring people together who wouldn't usually meet, to spread the load, because if we all do a tiny little thing once in a while for somebody else, its a little effort, to create a sense of belonging and caring for all the people and place that we live in without judgement, to link up people who can give a helping hand to the people who need one, to spread positivity, happiness and joy, to share from your heart, to give the people who might feel isolated or alone a sense of belonging, to make this world a better place from the grassroots, to make somebodies day, just because you can. Please get creative with offers, keep them coming in, share excess fruit, some knitting for a mum who can't knit, a service that someone might not be able to afford otherwise - you name it - its great whatever it is, if you can make somebody's day."</span></span><br />
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</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #38761d;">There has been a lovely flow of all kinds of offers & requests, large & small, which is most heartening. All any of us can do is to offer what we have & who we are.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> So, I offered "Tea with Lucy".</span></span></span><br />
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I suggested that anyone could contact me & bring a friend for some time out or a special afternoon tea.<br />
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We've had four different groups come to visit, each of them for lovely reasons: two lovely young very pregnant mum's came to have some time-out before their babies were born.<br />
These girls here are family; three generations.<br />
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This week we've had two more enquiries. </div>
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I tailor the flowers & the setting for each occasion.</div>
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The last little group came as a treat the day before the Nanna had a double knee replacement. Everything went wrong that could, for them before their arrival, but once they reached Lucy..<br />
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the sun came out.</div>
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Isn't that lovely!<br />
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Do you remember me telling you about my lovely spontaneous meeting with Gina in Palmerston North? Well, as it so happens, Gina is a charming trade Me seller too.</div>
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I just had to buy this dear little sugar bowl for Lucy...it's bound to make someone smile. </div>
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And...the two little cups to go with the Bambi tea pot that I found sometime ago.<br />
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When the little cups arrived in the post, the parcel was enormous!!</div>
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Gina had sent me this divine picture with the loveliest prayer.</div>
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With my menopausal waking I sometimes slip in to the spare bed so as to not disturb the Snorer & to have some wriggle room, that's where I've hung this blessing.<br />
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Isn't it beautiful.<br />
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In the early days of my trading I sold a fairy duvet cover to a Nanna, for her grand-daughter.<br />
The little girl had just lost her mother & Nanna was her care-giver, it was all so very sad. They would sometimes go to the cemetery so that she could sit & talk to her mummy. I was so glad that that little girl was given the fairy cover. I took some photos of the fabric but after it was gone I discovered that they were out of focus, which was sad as it was so beautiful. I never forgot the fabric, nor the little girl. How joyful it was to find a little piece of the same fabric in the Gina parcel.<br />
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Joy for all little girls.<br />
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We've had such lovely weather, but one day on an inside rainy day I painted these candle sticks in pastel colours. My dear friend Sue was discarding them as the silver plate had worn & they couldn't be polished up.<br />
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Thanks to <a href="http://mythreadbearlife.blogspot.co.nz/">Julie's fabulous inspiration</a> I popped a double violet in to an old watering can</div>
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to put on a funny old step stool I found at the Hospice Shop.<br />
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And after seeing African violets in tea cups I got Rob to drill a few holes in some old jugs & potted them up with some pansies & more violets.</div>
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The jugs have more room than tea cups & are very resilient even outside.</div>
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This nutty old visitor has been scrambling around in trees quite a lot lately.</div>
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Look at this beauty. It was such a nice small compact tree too.</div>
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Magnolias really are magnificent.</div>
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Another thread in the tapestry...the Nanna with the "knees" asked if her garden group could come to visit our garden, this morning a lady came up the drive to arrange it. Next Tuesday a whole garden group will be having a little lunch somewhere & then coming for a wander around in our lovely garden.<br />
"Ooh do you sell plants too"? said the lady.<br />
Well actually....<br />
There are many ways to create community & happiness, including knitting.<br />
Thought you might like this too.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/oGYRmTLuK7M" width="560"></iframe><br />
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Much love & flowery hugs,<br />
Catherine x0x0x<br />
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Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2026836570304833522.post-45161843370586963122015-08-16T09:53:00.001+12:002015-08-16T11:48:59.510+12:00The Memory of Violets<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Hello there dear friends & readers.</div>
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Here we are, once again...in the time of violets,</div>
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and daphne...</div>
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toasty wood f<span style="text-align: center;">ires, chicken stock in the slow cooker & pretty vintage blankets on our knees in the evening. The winter sun is low on the front veranda. Most days we put out fruit at the gate: lemons from Ted, grapefruit from the giant tree (huge as far as grapefruit trees go) across the road, walnuts from Ruth's gatherings & local oranges.</span><br />
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Violets & seeds & even rose cuttings are continually being dispersed around the countryside at quite an alarming rate. So, as it happens, it was quite a challenge to create a little space so that I could go to Palmerston North with Rob, a week or two ago. He attended a Champions of Nursing training & I had a lovely time op-shopping.<br />
What an utter delight it was to hear a "Hello, Catherine?" in the Red Cross shop, only to discover Gina, my friend (that I'd actually never met)...visiting from way up north & having the presence of mind to recognise me from this blog. We had such a lovely catch up over tea & I think we're both still marvelling at such an act of pure grace.<br />
On our journey home Rob & I found a lovely old oak mirror in the Woodville Mart. Clever man discovered that we had very nice hooks in the back of one of our old wardrobes to make it perfectly useful. Our hallway has become a cloakroom<br />
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& even had a jolly good old clean. The ever patient driver screeched to a halt several times on the return journey home, so that I could pick some...rather sort after verbena bonariensis seeds. Good man, now the coat hook mirror is already half paid for!<br />
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I found this dear jug in The Salys in Dannevirke.<br />
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So cute.<br />
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I really do find violets enchanting. </div>
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I've decided I shall <i>be</i> a <span style="color: #351c75;">Collector of Violets.</span></div>
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Might be how I came across this little novel...the scent of them sent me on a violet mission; the memory of violets, the enchantment of these delicious little flowers,</div>
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coaxing out the stories stored in childhood...so many I've heard these passed few months: a mother who would gather bunches at the kitchen table & tie them up with string to sell to the florists, a grandmother who always gave a granddaughter a fragrant posy from the first of the violet blossoms each late winter. It's the simple warm memories that weave the most charm & remain indelibly pressed in to our hearts. One whiff and...<br />
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you could find yourself transported to the flower markets of old London.<br />
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Primroses & polyanthus,</div>
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the promise of bluebells,<br />
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hellebores<br />
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and sweetest primlettes.<br />
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All bring me back round to the scent,</div>
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the memory<br />
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of violets.<br />
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The memories stretch oh so far back in time. I have recently discovered that this particular violet Mrs David Lloyd George was introduced in 1915 & described as<br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"A pretty and rare violet originating from Corfe Mullen in Dorset, so is sometimes known as the Dorset Violet.".</span><br />
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And so I began Hazel Gaynor's novel <span style="color: #351c75;"><a href="http://www.hazelgaynor.com/books/memory-of-violets/">A Memory of Violets</a>.</span>..<br />
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Life was terribly tough for the poor in London in the late 1800's & the little girls that faced life mired in poverty & orphaning, often survived on the filthy streets by selling violets or watercress to the wealthy passersby. They were known as The Flower Sellers.<br />
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The story unfolds with deceptive simplicity & reminded me of books of my childhood; yet slowly & surely the story is woven together with colourful threads of fragrant intrigue & purpose.<br />
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<span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"1876. Among the filth and depravity of Covent Garden’s flower markets, orphaned Irish sisters Flora and Rosie Flynn sell posies of violets and watercress to survive. It is a pitiful existence, made bearable only by the presence of each other. When they become separated, the decision of a desperate woman sets their lives on very different paths.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">1912. Twenty-one-year-old Tilly Harper leaves the peace and beauty of her native Lake District for London, to become assistant housemother at Mr. Shaw’s Home for Watercress and Flower Girls. For years, the home has cared for London’s orphaned and crippled flower girls, taking them off the streets. For Tilly, the appointment is a fresh start; a chance to leave her troubled past behind.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Soon after she arrives, Tilly discovers a notebook belonging to Flora Flynn. Hidden between the pages she finds dried flowers and a heartbreaking tale of loss and separation as Flora’s entries reveal how she never stopped looking for her sister. Tilly sets out to discover what happened to Rosie. But the search will not be easy. Full of twists and surprises, it leads the caring and determined young woman into unexpected places, including the depths of her own heart."</span><span style="text-align: center;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The story, I found fascinating on so many levels. So close to my own heart, the resonance of loss & struggle & abandonment...the sense that the world has set it's face against you & that you have no one to truly care for you & protect you.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt;"> The real Albert Shaw of the story, was a christian man named John Groom, who always had a sense that he was called to do more with his life than engrave silver. He eventually fulfilled that calling & set up homes for the Flower Sellers with charming names like Violet & Foxglove House, where they learnt to create artificial flowers as a way of life. Wonderfully, the girls work & plight was acknowledged in the most delightful way, told so well here:</span></div>
<!--StartFragment--><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"With a dozen occupants in each home, under the care of a Housemother, these women and young girls lived and worked together making artificial flowers in a nearby factory. It took them off the streets, gave them employment that wasn’t dependent on the seasons or the weather, and improved their quality of life immeasurably. The artificial flowers produced were mostly sold to the wealthy to decorate their homes, but the work of the ‘Flower Girls’ was eventually noticed by the Dowager Queen, Alexandra of Denmark (widow of King Edward VII).<br />
Queen Alexandra was to commemorate fifty years since she had first arrived in England from her native Denmark and rather than the usual processional drive through London, she wanted to use the occasion to raise funds for the city’s hospitals. Aware of the work of the girls at Groom’s ‘crippleage’ she commissioned them to make thousands of artificial pink roses for buttonholes which would be sold all over London.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The event on 26th June, 1912, was a huge success, supported by a thousand titled ladies who took to the streets to sell the roses. As The Times reported of the event, ‘the most noticeable sight was the enormous number of men who wore [a rose]. In the City and West End, at any rate, nearly every second men had at least one bloom and often had two or three in one buttonhole.‘ In total, over £30,000 was raised for charity (several million pounds in today’s equivalent). This was the very first ‘flag’ day of its kind, known as Queen Alexandra Rose Day, and the capital had never seen anything like it." </span></div>
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<a href="http://romanticnovelistsassociationblog.blogspot.co.nz/2015_02_01_archive.html" style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMv5m8zPNoVu0B-k7n0cmjAYI-z6UhFrMrLb9x5ySJ5IU17oSWKiYuRVJZw1bbldyzNKpYZf0Q5klgg2BEdn_AXtLw7gtjIdpKxGxPFjFzgsKxBsWj8DA5oD5HGPAEuwT0QrwOA2SyluhA/s400/Flower+Girls.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Photo & excerpt form <a href="http://romanticnovelistsassociationblog.blogspot.co.nz/2015_02_01_archive.html">here</a> with many thanks.</div>
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So it seems...that beauty & kindness remain a saving grace.<br />
And an honour it is indeed, to have become a "Flower Seller" too; a woman immersed in fragrance & grace & beauty.<br />
Thank you dear readers & friends for you patience with me & for your visit here.<br />
Much love,<br />
Catherine x0x0x<br />
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Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06377061243543771813noreply@blogger.com10