Reel Therapy and Red Shoes

Thank you so much everyone for the support and encouragement that you gave me after I wrote my last post, I so very much appreciate your love, kindness & friendship.

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.

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: 

"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.

With their husbands, fathers, sons and brothers experiencing bloodshed on the battlefields, the women band together to prevent their world falling apart."

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 than the stories handed down through family members- many of which are stuck & lopsided.

It is interesting to observe that, together through the years, we have grounded ourselves by instinctively recreating the values & down-to-earthness resourcefulness that we discovered in these programmes. 

Foyle's War is another series that we love passionately.

When things go awry 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 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 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?'

 & 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?    

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.
This short Danish video is a perfect example of what I mean.



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.
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.
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.
 I adore her.

 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.

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.

Babushka Galushka encourages Ruby to be an aware hare, treating everyone's feelings, as well as her own with great care.

"Feelings are just like delicate bird's eggs," she would say. 

"Be as gentle as you can with them".

Ruby enjoys little naps in the cool grass.

Often she daydreams, watching the breeze tickling the leaves or hurrying lazy clouds through the powdery blue sky. 

Ruby Red Shoes lives in prettily painted caravan...with a very sweet & kind man.

And shares her happy Sunshine Vintage life with all who pass by.

"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."

This Ruby Red Shoes now has a bike called Wisp

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.

She even has a little bell.

Just in case hedgehogs & other small animals come across her path.

Lucy & Wisp are now best of friends.

Ruby doesn't know what she'd ever do without them now.

At the conclusion of last year I wrote a personal manifesto. 

Here is a little of what it says:

...I fling open every window to wonder, curiosity & beauty & I am deeply thankful for the abundance that flows all around & through us.

These are the days when I will remember how to skip & play & dream.

My lost & uncomforted inner child will re-connect with goodness & love, & learn to believe in her own sacred calling & expression.

One day, I will truly learn to laugh with gay abandon.

Even though these times are hard for many, my path will be sprinkled (saturated) with flowers, bees & butterflies.

The trees & birds will be my friends.

I am An angel in the garden & I am Ruby Red shoes.....

Generosity will be my trademark; friendship & kindness my coat of many colours.   

I will be healed.

Goodness will flow.

My floral, fragrant, light-filled legacy of joy & kindness will be a well-spring for many years to come & this- will change the world, for good.

Grace

Much love, Katie- the little girl who finally found her shoes, her wings & her destiny.
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On a Mission to Home

Now let me tell you a giddy wee story of home....
The essence and heart of Sunshine Vintage began almost three years ago in a most unexpected way- with a celebration...a birthday afternoon tea 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.

(There's Pat in red)

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.

The following January they were married!

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 The Mission for my birthday

Dining out is not something that we do very often so it was a very special treat.

It may sound a little odd but we studied the menu carefully before we went

& we were so pleased that we did

as it enabled to make the very best choices.
 What utterly delectable food.
We savoured every bite.

A romantically memorable evening.

In the middle of a mission of building "home".

So lovely!

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.
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.

Such lovely country side.

Eventually it came time to leave the grand old house & move along.

 They soon found themselves up the Coromandel way at Prana Retreat Opoutere 

where Matthew has been running a commercial kitchen & they have catered for large crowds at various music festival events, including this last New Year.

Prana Festival is... from White Light Media on Vimeo.

It's hard to believe that a whole year has gone by since that sweet wedding.

And such a happy day.

An impromptu duet a little later...

And so the thread of connection is once again tucked back in here at 625N Nelson Street.

A humble bungalow, but one that has gifted many with warm & lasting memories of what is truly home. 

It's that time again & our dear friend Pat has popped in once more bearing kind Christmas offerings. 

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. 

Happy birthday dear Pat.
We'll do our best to take care of the old place.

The Memory of Violets

Hello there dear friends & readers.

Here we are, once again...in the time of violets,

and daphne...

 toasty wood fires, 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.

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.
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.
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

 & 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!

 I found this dear jug in The Salys in Dannevirke.

 So cute.

I really do find violets enchanting. 

I've decided I shall be a Collector of Violets.

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,

 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...

 you could find yourself transported to the flower markets of old London.

Primroses & polyanthus,

the promise of bluebells,

 hellebores

 and sweetest primlettes.

All bring me back round to the scent,

 the memory

 of violets.

 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
"A pretty and rare violet originating from Corfe Mullen in Dorset, so is sometimes known as the Dorset Violet.".

 And so I began Hazel Gaynor's novel A Memory of Violets...

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.

 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.

"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.

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.

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." 

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.

 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:

"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).
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.

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."  

Photo & excerpt form here with many thanks.

So it seems...that beauty & kindness remain a saving grace.
 And an honour it is indeed, to have become a "Flower Seller" too; a woman immersed in fragrance & grace & beauty.
Thank you dear readers & friends for you patience with me & for your visit here.
Much love,
Catherine x0x0x