shapeshifting

To mirror our financial drought we've had no eggs. First, Idgie got broody and the other girls wouldn't or couldn't get into their nesting area, depending on how hard I was trying to keep her moving that day. Then after two long months Idgie returned to normal and we knew all four girls were laying but...no eggs. We deduced that magpies were helping themselves. Maybe even the Jimley Jackdaws. And that was fine but we missed our eggs - well Charlie and Evie did. So we started pushing the henhouse door almost closed so that the chooks could get in but another bird wouldn't be able to fly in and would be too spooked to walk in.

Eggs. Three brown eggs a day. But no blue MeiMei eggs.

This afternoon I was in the garden and lifted a straggling vine to fix it to the wall. Beneath it is an old half-barrel with the remains of last year's compost in it, unplanted this summer because the hens just dig up new plants. And in the barrel...seven slightly mucky-looking blue eggs.

That's abundance.

The rain here is a good thing. We miss the hot summer days that visited in May but here we are on a grey day with rain pouring down and it's a good thing. The south-east's farmers are operating under drought conditions and here in the west we've had the driest spring in a long time. Wind and rain are not friends to chickens but my little brood have lots of shelter in their henhouse and hedges, the greenhouse and, most often, in the porch by the front door where they sit and grumble for hours on end. Idgie has been broody for about two months, causing huge problems for the other girls but this morning she got out of bed of her own accord. Maybe she likes the cooler weather. Or it makes her nesting spot less attractive.

 

 

Forward motion

• I got three clear nights of good sleep and it made a huge difference. Years of sleep deprivation, never really recouped, take their toll and turn me into a bear in dire need of a hibernation cave. I need to pay more attention to this.
• We started making big glasses of fresh green juice in the morning and I swear an effect is instant. Obviously the big things change more slowly but my body felt as parched as our garden before this rain and soaked up the goodness with a sigh of relief and pleasure.
• There's an Anusara yoga studio in the town where I work and I went with a friend from the office to the first of five introductory lessons. Loved it. The teacher is wonderful; the studio is new, beautiful and rich in nag champa, chants and chai for all. I came away stretched, challenged and filled with an inner heat I haven't felt since I was attuned to Reiki. Channels were opened, dude.
• Friends did me proud this week and I drew great pleasure from realising just how many amazing women I know who are happy to pull me back up onto my feet when I'm in a crumbled heap even as they face their own struggles. I love you.
• Fabric-shopping for my sewing commission - felt pots - was fascinating and convinced me that in some cases, vintage and repurposing is by far the best option. Ack, the prices. Felt I'll buy new but for the rest I'll go with off-cuts sold in bundles and great material found in secondhand stores.
• Talking of which, as our little cottage home overflows with my finds I've decided to put my eye to good use and start an online vintage store. I could stock it twice over right now and as soon as I have some good photos, I will.
• Finally, in the shallow department, I dug out my old hair straighteners and put them to work. My growing-out hair had reached the stage where the only respectable option was a big woolly hat and it's June so that's a problem in itself. I love how straighteners can add an inch to your hair and make it look..er..better. At least when you have hair that is not straight, not wavy, not curly, just a bit warped in places with a tendency to develop 'mushroom head' (no, that's not me).

So. There. A hard week turned out well after all and I ticked boxes on five out of six of the Project Me boxes. And seeing as I signed at least three petitions I suppose I can half tick that last one too.

Okay next week, bring it on. But if you could be dry on Tuesday morning so I can work outside then that'd be awesome. Kthxbai.

x

 

 

 

 

 

Valerian in known for its calming properties, soothing anxiety and balancing moods. We have a lot of valerian growng in our garden and I can verify that I never feel anything but calm out there. Of course we also regularly have seven Jimley Jackdaws on the bird table, a bunch of silly chickens, sunbathing dogs and a small child showing an unreasonable amount of talent at kicking a ball. What's to worry about?

In our garden is a hedge and behind that is another hedge and behind that hedge is a 10 foot drop down into the manor gardens. The chickens like to scratch around in the space between. I can relate to that feeling at the moment. It's rich ground.

 

This photograph came straight out of the camera, I just resized it. I love it.

Thank you all for your comments and emails about Casey - they meant a lot. I know many of you have been where I was last Friday and the rest of you are an empathetic, lovely bunch so I was in safe hands.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about what gets us through the bad days. Online and nonline (just made that up. When you see it all over the place by next week...it started here m'kay?) friends play a huge part, that's for sure.  And all my 'funny little ways' that I've - it suddenly became crystal clear - rarely taken seriously, actually do lift me upwards and onwards.

The little steps, the moments of lovely, the act of creating something however small, temporary or even imagined...they really do work. The rituals I've used to work with my own beliefs and understanding of life...they mean something. Something real. The healing energy? It actually heals.

(The day of Casey's death, Evie said to me,"Mum? What you need is a fire. Or even a candle. And you get really close and you tell it all the things you want to say to Casey okay? It really works." Now, a) lighting a candle is something I would do anyway for a travelling spirit and b) WHAT??? Where the heck..? Talk about My Little Shaman. Chip off the adoptive block or what? I'm so proud.)

I think I'm going to focus more on these things here. The things that help me, heal me and move me through the hard places. I'm not going to say 'dark places' because dark is a good place to be sometimes. Powerful.

Anyway...I want to put those things here. Along with random chicken posts of course. Chicken medicine is some gooood shit. Especially from random chickens.

Random Ninny does her best Diana Ross.

"You Can't Hurry l'Oeuf"

 

Chicka meets Idgie and Ninny at their front door.

See the beautiful blue/greens? Chicka likes to perch. They're perchers, this family.

MeiMei - always moving. Little Brown Hen. Sweetie.

The Flag of Chicken Nation from an original design by Evie.

 

Sweet MeiMei lays blue eggs. This was her first one for us.

Late afternoon. Horses in the field = Nell on a lead. #herder

I look at this and a sob explodes in my heart. Is he not perfect and wild and beautiful still?

So this was the tiny white ball of feathers that I climbed into a bramble hedge to rescue. If I hadn't, he'd have been fox dinner within 24 hours. He was tiny, he sat on my shoulder and he trilled away to himself, and me, endlessly.

That was the first week in August so very nearly six months ago. Xanthe is now easily three times as big as he was and dashingly handsome. He still likes to chat, he'll still sit on my shoulder (he just about fits) but mostly he likes to hang with his women.

That's Idgie Threadgoode on the left. They're going steady.

This week I guest-posted over at Susannah's blog. I was honoured to spend time there for the day and adored the polaroid she chose to sit alongside my words and picture - how perfect was that?

A few people got in touch to say they'd love a copy of the licence in my story and so I'm working on getting a download ready to put on here, then you can help yourselves.

There's lots going on this week: old job, new new job, old new job that is stalling, new etsy store, new projects to think about. On a bad day it feels a bit like a ticking bomb but on the good days - and there are more and more of them - it feels like the return of the sun. One more month and Spring comes back to this part of the world.

Out walking, I can feel the plants beginning to stretch and yawn. Birds are starting to busy themselves in readiness for new families. Even domestic birds. Having been responsible for the ruthless bullying of Mr Xanthe when he arrived as a young bird, Idgie Threadgoode has decided that now he's all growed-up, he's actually rather handsome. I have to agree; he has a fabulous tail and long, silky feathers that fall from his head like a mane. So Mr X and Idgie spend all their time together. They dust bath together, they roost snugged up together at night, they feed together. Meanwhile poor Ninny is spending an increasing amount of time wandering around the garden on her own. The three of them still spend most of the day together but the dynamic has really changed. I need to take some photographs.

In the meantime, to show I really am thinking about it, my doodlings:

Before

99p thrift find

After

Jackdaw, wolf, horse, chickens, woodpecker, owl, jay, my bbc coven, badger.

Magic.

My chickens - well, the Threadgoodes anyway - are in moult. Feathers are everywhere, making the garden look as if we've had a fox through it. We haven't. Just Mother Nature doing her thang.

The girls are a bit miserable. The changing season has thrown this at them and it's uncomfortable. There are wing and tail feathers wherever you look unless you're looking at a chicken who isn't called Mr Xanthe.

Soon pin feathers will emerge, pushing through and causing discomfort but ultimately, my girls will be beautiful on the outside again.

They are struggling and I understand. My pin feathers are troubling me too.

A C.S. Lewis quote has been doing the rounds on Twitter this week:

"You don't have a Soul. You are a Soul. You have a body."

Sorry C,  but I disagree with that second bit. It's taken me most of 2010 my life to understand it but finally I do. I am my body, my body is me. And frankly it talks a lot more sense than the flibbertigibbet mind I'm so besotted with.

And that's kind of where Shapeshifting is going.