shapeshifting

So I completely dropped the ball on the August Break. How predictable was that? If I felt the need to defend myself I'd say I got sick, cos I did but I don't. Heh.

Luckily, although my lungs nearly leapt out of my chest via my incredibly sore throat and I was incapable of speech for several days (yes, thanks for the cheering, @WiltsNature, revenge will be mine)I was able to get stuck into getting copy up on my new site.

I get the feeling that those of you who know me beyond this blog are sick to the back teeth of me and my new sites and I wouldn't blame you for that. It's true, there's been a few of them. But I'm a great believer in trying things out. I believed I didn't like tomatoes until I actually tried one, aged eight, and it taught me a lesson I've never forgotten - how do you know until you try? Lessons Learnt From Vegetables That Are Actually Fruit....hmmm, could be a blog...

I've gone on and on and oooooon about how much life has changed in the last year, how much we've changed, how it wasn't the change we I semi-planned, the stresses it's put on us and the work we've done to grow from the experiences blah blah and indeed...blah. Not to belittle that  process, which has been intense, but I'm done with writing about it. I'm almost done with living it. We're ready for Phase II. Us 2.0 if you will.

The lovely Leonie Wise was at my kitchen table for reals yesterday (sigh) and we talked about Those Days. The Ones With The Fear. The feeling of not being enough or worthy or useful or 'as good as'. All that shit. And how it seems sometimes that they get more intense, more frightening and convincing the closer you get to your truth. I know that's not a new concept but as ever, it feels more real once you've had personal experience.

I have big old butterflies right now about my plans but I also know that on the other side of the wall o'fear is the place I've glimpsed recently. The place that allowed me to visit for long enough to know that it is my element. I want to be back there permanently, professionally, with commitment and plans and love.

With this commitment in mind I've been practicing daily reiki meditations which are powerful things! Not really thinking it through (moi???), I've been doing them just before bed as that's when I tend to have some quiet time. Big mistake, as Julia Roberts once said. Huge. I get so reiki-ed up that I can't sleep until 2 AM. Yeah I'm properly smart, me. Bring me your animals. At 3 in the morning.

Insomnia aside, all is good. There's a bank holiday weekend ahead and then my baby girl gets ready to start school on Thursday. Somewhere between the two, the new site goes public, I send out my press release and start putting the word out.

There go those butterflies...

I have a small tattoo on my right arm that I want covered. I've spent a long time thinking about how to do it. I think I've decided that the cover-up tattoo will be something very like this.

a) It like totally resonates with the symbol of my blogging tribe ya know?

b) I always wanted to be a bird - I already have one tattooed on my back.

c) It's beautiful.

d) I couldn't begin to explain the truth of why it's perfect...it just is.

This is what I was doing yesterday and today. Yes I changed the name - but kept Wag Bark Love for the dog blog because I love it. Part of what I thought about yesterday was realising that I didn't want to limit my reiki practice to dogs. No doubt they'll be my main focus but I needed to open it up. Put more in and yet simplify. So this is the new site so far.

I fear there may be a slight theme emerging.

I was certain I'd found where she came from. A local poultry breeder - just half a mile from where I found her - that I hadn't known about. But this morning they told me that they didn't think she could be theirs. I'm relieved because this bird needs someone who knows.

We aren't the perfect home. She's undoubtedly Scooby-snack size for my dogs and seems unafraid of them if they stand between her and me. Our neighbours have a murderous cat who kills large mammals and birds way bigger than her. Sparrowhawks and Buzzards fly over our garden. Idgie and Ninny clearly think she's ridiculous although, now that she's shown the good manners to run and scream when they turn on her, they're leaving her alone. At night she's sleeping in a big dog crate fitted out with perch, food and water and a nesting box, inside our shed/summer room. She's happiest lying, all puffed up and contented, on my lap or trilling in my ear from her place on my shoulder, not locked up alone in a shed.

Yesterday she found her way down the side steps from the top garden, through the gap we have in the gate to our back garden - for the hedgehog whose routine brings him this way each night - and appeared on the kitchen windowsill, tapping urgently on the glass. She'd found me down there earlier, hanging out washing and clearly remembered.

For now, we'll just see if we can give her a good and safe home. If not, I'll find someone who can keep her in the manner to which she could easily become accustomed.

Here's a thing: I asked her what her name is and she told me, I swear. But it's so darn pretentious I refuse to use it. Here she is, at the kitchen window. Crap photo but I was a little surprised.

Last spring we had many adult toads in our garden. We live on what seems to be some kind of toad ley line. Also, if it weren't for the complicated network of managed streams and moats and ponds here on the estate, I believe we would be living on a water path. There is a well outside our kitchen door that is hundreds of years old. Much aqua. Good feng shui. Good for toads.

Yesterday it rained for 12 hours for the first time in longer than I can remember and the baby toads came out to take part in a little toady pilgrimage to wherever it is they go. The cobblestones outside our kitchen were a toad highway. When I came down to settle the dogs for the night I found six of these cuties had found their way under our ancient back door and were checking out the kitchen.

Exactly how perfect is this home for me? I know.

Finally, my garden breathes a cracked sigh of relief...and drinks.