Signs

It's funny how the universe gives you little signposts and sometimes, when you're tuned in, you actually see them! I wrote about carrying tension the other day and decided that I really must get something done, so booked in to see my local Osteopath, who I haven't visited for nearly a year and a half.

Before I went, I had to fix my poor car, and after a previous unsuccessful attempt, it all got sorted out and I was back in my trust old blue chariot. The sun shone. I got to the waiting room of the health centre and there, on the coffee table full of flyers and notices, was Healing Through Writing. Well, after TGW's last comment on the tension topic, I could have fallen off my chair laughing. I write when I'm confused or unhappy and often going back to my ramblings gives me insight or clarity on what is troubling me or what I need to do to change things. The penny hadn't dropped yet though.

I went into the practice room and after a brief description of my ailments, had to stand with my back to Mr Osteopath (I call him Dr Pain to his face), who cheerfully commented "You're a bit lop-sided, aren't you?" and then it was on my front with Dr Pain poking tender bunches of muscles and 'pinging' my spine in ways that made me yelp louder than I knew I could. There was one point, near the end, just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, that he pokes something in my back and said "Hmm, are you carrying emotional pain? People do that and I'm wondering if that isn't half the problem here" and I just burst into tears. The penny had dropped.

It wasn't that it hurt any more than anything else he had inflicted on me, just somehow, all the depression and misery of the past months finally snapped into perspective and left me knowing what I needed to do. It made me cry because it's going to be very hard and I don't even know where to begin. What an idiot I felt. I was blubbing, with my face stuck through the face-hole of the treatment couch, wondering where I could get my hands on a tissue and could I reach my nose around the outside of the couch and all the while, this horrible, dawning realisation of what was up washed over me.

I went home and went to bed; it was all just too much and I didn't know how to think or cope. I slept and woke with a screaming migraine. I still have it, but it's a lot better than it was, thank goodness. All the signs were there, I only opened my eyes to them yesterday. Healing through writing; Mr Osteopath stating what would have been perfectly obvious to me if it hadn't been my own body causing me such discomfort, realising that I hadn't sung for over 6 months and I love singing.

So, even though it took someone poking my back and the universe giving me a great big kick up the bum, I have finally opened my eyes. I have been living in a festering depression for at least six months and I know what is causing it. My father died on 14th April last year and for six months after his death, I was very wobbly and down; it wasn't my father dying that got me into this state though. I do miss him, but I don't wish he were still here as his life wasn't great at the end. He lived well into his 87th year and had a pretty decent life and I saw him lots and we had a good relationship. For a while I thought it was grief, but it isn't.

Writing about tension the other day started the train of through that eventually got me to open my eyes. It is my life that isn't right. I have let it slip and lost control of it and the loss of control has made me miserable. I have been working for myself and it's lonely; I miss having other people around me and the buzz of office life. My days are eked out in long silences with an occasional phone call, but mostly email communication. I love silence, but there is too much of it - so much that I have lost my ability to sing. My social life has died; all we ever seem to do is sit and watch television at the weekends and it's as boring as hell - I feel like I'm twice my age and less interesting than a corpse. I don't go dancing any more because my back hurts so much - and because I don't dance I'm miserable and my back hurts even more. I haven't done any smithing for ages, and I haven't touched any of the other things that I love to do, like sewing, oils or diddly squat.

At the moment, I feel as if my life is like a waiting room. I sit and wait for Kim to get home, then I wait for him to stop being tired, then I wait for him to pack and I wait to get the place back to myself so I can clean it up again and then I'm waiting for the next weekend cycle to happen all over again. In between, I feel resentful that I'm little more than a cleaning lady - not a very good one I have to admit, because wielding the vacuum hurts my back - and I do the laundry and fill in with a bit of work and that's all there is to life. You know, I can't remember the last time I laughed - really laughed - that loud, raucous belly laugh that one does when life just feels so good and everything is just such fun (even for a moment) that you throw your head back and let out the joy.

And all of this is my own fault.

So, I now have to remedy these things that are ailing me. I have to put aside the notion of working for myself and admit that I don't really like it all that much. I miss the hurly burly of working with others, being in a place where one's business calls aren't interrupted by the sound of a geriatric cat throwing up... and reminding me that I'm the cleaning lady again. I have to find something with a salary that puts me back in total control of my life, which isn't going to be easy, as I'm now considered well past my 'sell by' date in the job market, but I trust that with a lot of effort from me, the Goddess will help out in that department. I have to stop 'waiting around' and just go out more. If I have to do that on my own, then so be it - it's probably the only way it's going to happen, because I've given it enough time for the alternative. I have to look at the entire way I live my life and stop waiting around, stop stifling how I feel in favour of other people's hopes and dreams and start being me again.

I have, more than anything, to start laughing again. I suspect that there are even more drastic steps to be taken to fully reclaim the person I once was... no, I don't suspect, I know. It was the realisation that hit me on the Osteopath's couch and I'm dressing it all up in euphemisms and trying to not say aloud that which is screaming in my head. I am going to end up upsetting a lot of people who have made arrangements on the strength of things I have said and planned and I'm going to unravel it all. Well, I shall just have to upset them because I can't do the alternative.

Yes, writing really does heal and help to open the flow of being oneself again. The signs have been there and you know, I might just jump in my car, go out for a drive and see if I can find my singing voice again.

Curmudgeon's Rant

Ok, I've done the inward navel gazing bit and now it's time to let my inner curmudgeon out for a good airing!

I live in a tiny village in Somerset, population 305 at the last census, and we're reached by single track lanes and though within a few miles of the A303, we're actually quite remote as villages go. The next village along from us is Barrington. It's a picture post-card type place with long, low thatched cottages and Barrington Court, a National Trust place that has very lovely gardens. Sadly, Barrington Court acts like a magnet for the seasonal grockles to flood down the green lanes at every holiday period.

Until "good" Friday, our lanes were green, dotted with daffodils and budding leaves and the occasional muddy puddle, which is par for the course in Somerset. Travelling down those same lanes yesterday, they were littered with sweet wrappers, carrier bags filled with litter or bags just blowing in the breeze and numerous plastic drink bottles and cans.

Why do people come out to the country to throw litter in our hedgerows and lanes? Surely, the people who do this come to the country because it is a beautiful place and they want to be amongst the green fields, spring lambs and beauty of nature. If they come for that, then why do they ruin the thing they desire to see with their detritus? Is it that they are so used to living in cities where there are road sweepers and people to pick up after them that they don't even think about the effect of their actions? Do they think that there are teams of council workers lurking in our hedgerows just waiting to pick up their rubbish? Do they even think?

It is such a sad time of year, when the holiday season begins and the grockles swarm through this lovely county. We rarely see any sort of council cleaning teams in Shepton; occasionally they send in the curb cleaning lorries after we have had our regular winter mud slides so it is possible to differentiate the road from the pavement, but apart from that, we don't chuck litter on the ground. On the rare occasions it happens, children who throw it are told to pick it up and if the perpetrator isn't about, we villagers pick it up and put it in our own bins. That way, the village stays nice and the lanes stay green and only dotted with flowers.

We now face up to six months of this thoughtless littering. I would ask everyone that reads this to think about what you do when you go out into the country. Rural areas are not well served by cleaning teams from local councils - in fact, the service is pretty abysmal. There aren't men in hi-vis vests lurking at every hedge to capture the ejections from your car window, so don't eject. How hard is it to put your rubbish into a bag and take it to a litter bin, or even take it home with you? If you want the countryside to remain beautiful and a place that you desire to visit, don't spoil it with your thoughtless littering.

Lastly, how would you feel if I drove up your suburban street and ejected my wrappers and drink bottles on the pavement outside your house?

The Way We Carry Tension

It's an odd thing, thinking about he way we carry tension in our bodies, how we signal pain and discomfort and how we deal with it. When I was young, I never really thought about tension or pain. It's easy when one is young; there is no pain from aches and rheumatism, there is no wear on the body apart from the excesses we inflict upon it. Stress, too, is something that I never really thought about. I'm sure I did get stressed, but in my twenties I still felt invincible, in my thirties I was too busy managing the family to have time to think about it and in my forties, I took control of my life in a way that allowed me to dodge most of the stresses and strains of daily life. I did have stressful times, but there was always too much to do to have time to think about it.

Now, as I have stumbled into my fifties, I find that stress is something that is blighting my life in a way it never has before. It's not that I'm more stressed; in fact, I'm probably less stressed than I ever have been in some ways. I'm comfortable financially, which I wasn't for much of my life; my son has grown into a decent man and I have little to worry about with him; my partner is kind and thoughtful, yet I am a physical wreck. These days, I only have to think about something that makes me uncomfortable and all my muscles go into spasm, I can't walk and life feels pretty filthy. We're not talking big stresses and strains, on no! Even simple little things set off the muscle spasm > inability to walk > upset that I can't walk > more stress > more spasm > and so the vicious circle goes on.

I did used to manifest my stress through other physical means, but for some reason, it has all moved to my lower back and the spasms lock up my entire pelvis so I can't walk, or even sit comfortably. Trouble is, I don't know what made it move to that part of my body - well, I'm not sure, anyway. If Louise Hay is to be believed, and she seems right on so many things, it is because the foundation of my life doesn't feel right or secure.

Hips: Carry the body forward in perfect balance - major thrust in moving forward.

Back: Represents the support of life. Lower back: fear of money, lack of financial support. From You Can Heal Your Life by Louise Hay.

Hmmm, now, I just said that I was fairly comfortable, and I am. I want for little. The difference is that I am no longer in control of my life and money. Since becoming a couple and co-habiting for the first time since my marriage broke down, I am finding that adjusting to being part of a couple and not the totally autonomous, selfish creature that I was for so many years is pretty challenging. It's a rotten thing to admit, since my partner is just about the kindest, most generous man there is. He just phoned me to suggest that we help my son out with his car tax and MOT costs because of the high costs and poor apprenticeship wages my son is on. That's thoughtful and generous. So why am I struggling? Is it because I have to consult with him about spending our shared money? Is it because I can't get my head around the concept of shared money? Why don't I feel as secure and cherished as I know I ought?

This is such a knotty problem and one I'm struggling to find an answer to that feels like it covers all the issues. I do know that the past few weeks have brought up old fears and pain and undermined the security that I feel, but I have to face those issues to be able to move forward. It has been harder than I thought, but the locking up is not a phenomenon of the past fortnight, but an increasingly frequent challenge. I do wonder if it is because I have 'too much' time to think. All through the other times of my life, I have been far too rushed just trying to keep pace with the daily grind to think about stuff like this. Now I wonder if having enough leisure to look inwards is such a good thing. I know that one of my less gentle friends would tell me to stop contemplating my navel, get off my fat arse and do something useful and I'm beginning to wonder is she might not be right...

Paying It Forward

There is, apparently, a lovely film about paying it forward though I haven't seen it (must put it on my to do list). I have been put in mind of it because of a conversation I had today.

I have always been blessed with good friends; never a cast of thousands, but enough people who are staunch friends, compassionate and caring, that I have never wanted for support. I have been through a couple of very difficult times in my life, when it felt that everything was falling apart, as I'm sure many of us have, and there have always been amazing, compassionate people there to pick me up, pass me a tissue to wipe my eyes and tell a bad joke to make me laugh. I don't think I have ever taken these people for granted, and I know I have always been grateful for them.

I learned about kindness and paying it forward a long time ago. It was in early 1987 at a time I was planning to move from London to north Cambridgeshire. I was driving up on a wild and wet night in my shiny little mini (the pre-BMW type that always conked out in the wet) and despite the rubber glove lovingly applied to the distributor cap (HT leads through the fingers!) my mini decided to splutter and conk out near Peterborough, just in the area where the A1 rapist was operating. Great. It wasn't bad enough that it was lashing down with rain, my mini had to splutter into stillness on the hard shoulder of the A1 just in the wrong place!

If I thought that was bad, I hadn't anticipated the next occurrence; a set of headlights slowly coasted to a stop behind my car, pulled up and a caped dark figure got out of the car. They walked to my window and knocked on it. By this time my heart was in my mouth and I just had the presence of mind to open the window a tiny crack. A cheery American woman greeted me with "Hey! I saw you pull over and was worried you may have broken down, can I help you?" I was relieved. This lovely lady, whose name I never did get to know, held the torch as I sprayed the distributor cap with WD40 and dried everything off as well as I could. She assured me that she would follow me up the A1 for a mile or so to make sure that my car would keep going and turned to leave.

Unused to such kindness (London isn't the place for gratuitous displays of neighbourliness) I asked her if I could give her some money to say thank you - so she could buy herself something nice for being so kind and this was her reply: "No, I won't take anything from you except a commitment that if you see someone else in trouble or needing help, that you offer to help them. If we all help each other out, the world will be a much better place." And so came my introduction to the idea of how interconnected we all are and how the good that you do for one person comes back to you in very different ways, and through different people.

I have particularly wanted to be able to return the kindness and love that my friends Andrea and Ros showed me not too long ago. Both sprang into action, bossed me about when I couldn't decide what day of the week it was, and coaxed and nudged me into a state of cheerfulness. I love them both dearly and though I know it's unlikely I can repay them (and I wouldn't want them to be in dire straights just so I can feel I have repaid!) I now have the opportunity to do something similar for a friend.

I find I am being terribly ham-fisted and worried that I'm either being too bossy or not bossy enough. It's not about me, but I really want to do the best I can for someone who is such a sweet and lovely person. So, if you are reading this and can spare it, send over a huge hug for my friend and light a candle so that she gets to see how amazing and deserving of happiness she is, and ask the Goddess for a modicum of diplomacy for me!

That'll Teach Me!

I suppose it was time for the universe to give me a big kick up the bum. It's not like I've been complacent or self-satisfied, but it seems that it was time for me to take a knock.

Today, I went to the little house that I had 'loaned' to the Pole (see The Wonder Of Yule in December 2007) and as he is due to move out soon after a three month sojourn, I took my trust builder Harry with me to list and price all the remaining work that needed doing. The deal had been that he got a centrally heated house, albeit in need of decoration and a bit of a clean up, in return for not paying any rent but doing some of the said decoration.

It was an interesting visit. Apart from wiping the kitchen work surfaces down and cleaning the cooker up a bit (not a lot) the place was unchanged. He hadn't even wiped the shelves where he had put my post or the room which he used as a bedroom. I have to say that I was really shocked. Then I was angry at myself for being so trusting. Then I was just plain angry and now I'm bloody cross that the feckless, lazy little git hasn't done a stroke. Still, it could be worse.

We had extended our offer from late February to after Easter as the weather has been so filthy and both Kim and I didn't have the heart to send him back to a tent in a field, assuming that's where he's planning on going, though that isn't even certain as he mentioned he may be going back to Poland. Just at the moment, my ire is still frothing up like a red, acidic swell and I could happily march around there and eject him right now. I won't do that until I know how soon I can get Harry in there to sort the place out... which may be as soon as Monday.

One of my pet hates and a BIG BUTTON for me is feeling as if I've had the piss taken and I feel like that just now - I wouldn't mind, but I can't even channel all this anger into a good bout of housework cos my back is hurting so much, which is doubly frustrating! That will teach me. Maybe he was the one in ten.

Instant Karma

There is much talk on a website and forum that I run about Karma and the mechanics of it. In a nutshell, it seems to me that the original eastern notion of Karma is that it carries through lifetimes and what you do wrong or omit in one incarnation must be dealt with in future ones.

We in the west have taken the idea of Karma and popularised it and I have heard mention of instant Karma; you do something good and something nice happens to you, or, you do something bad and you get your come-uppance very quickly. Now, I'm not sure that I subscribe to such a simplistic way of looking at things. It's rather cosy to feel that by doing a good deed something equally good will happen shortly afterwards, but I'm not sure that the universe was ever designed to cater for such order and neatness. Yet, today I have to question my viewpoint.

I tried to do something today that was intended to help someone I know. It wasn't entirely altruistic, as it would certainly not give me any trouble or discomfort, but the motivation was not born of selfishness. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I made the offer, it was warmly received and within half an hour of putting the phone down, in came an email from the most unlikely source offering me the potential for more work.

It would be so easy to think of this as instant Karma, but it can't be that neat! Maybe it's just that I'm managing to see all the positives and exercise gratitude in a way that people like the Dalai Lama recommend. A paragraph from Verse 1 of His Holiness' teachings also springs to mind:

There is another fact concerning the cultivation of thoughts and emotions that cherish the well-being of others: one's own self-interest and wishes are fulfilled as a by-product of actually working for other sentient beings. As Je Tsong Khapa points out in his Great Exposition of the Path to Enlightenment (Lamrim Chenmo), "the more the practitioner engages in activities and thoughts that are focused and directed toward the fulfillment of others' well-being, the fulfillment or realization of his or her own aspiration will come as a by-product without having to make a separate effort." Some of you may have actually heard the remark, which I make quite often, that in some sense the bodhisattvas, the compassionate practitioners of the Buddhist path, are wisely selfish people, whereas people like ourselves are the foolishly selfish. We think of ourselves and disregard others, and the result is that we always remain unhappy and have a miserable time. The time has come to think more wisely, hasn't it? This is my belief. At some point the question comes up, "Can we really change our attitude?"

So, maybe there is the potential for such neatness and instant payback? I have no pretention to being so evolved as the bodhisattvas, but it does make sense. There is much wisdom in Buddhism and who am I to question the deep knowledge and compassion of HH Dalai Lama?

I'm Really Not Sure About This

It seems that I can now officially call myself a farmer, even if I only own a tiny, minuscule share in a farm. I want to buy my own farm, with enough land to support us and to have some space left over for my Wicca centre - it will come, but not this month! My beloved, ever resourceful and on the look out for thoughtful presents and nice surprises for me (honest, this man is pretty amazing), Kim found something as a treat and interim pressie for me.

On Friday night when he got home from work, he handed me a share certificate for the Fordhall Community Land Initiative and told me I could now start sucking on a hayseed and saving up for my big red Massey Ferguson without guilt. What a thoughtful man - I am lucky. So, what am I not sure about..?

Well, first, let me define the entity and the present. The present was a really thoughtful and kind gift. The entity - owning a share in a land initiative and the idea of group ownership of a farm - that's what I'm not sure of. I have read all the blurb - I can see how it works and I think the organic principles and so on are laudable. What I can't get my head around is that the land isn't really, as far as I can see from a map, somewhere that would have been prime development land and there's not much said about other interested parties. The other thing I am struggling with a bit is the idea that this is all a rather smart wheeze to get a secured tenancy (for 100 years I believe) for the youngest children of the original tenant farmer. Now, that probably sounds terribly churlish and it may be so.

What exactly does one get for being a 'shareholder' in this scheme? The tenant farmers will let us know when we may come and look at the farm (probably not more than 8 days in each year) and that's sort of it. It's probably just me being a little dim, but I can't see the benefit of that. Let's face it - if the land had been sold it is likely it would have been to another farmer - change of land use isn't all that easy to obtain, especially for large tracts of productive agricultural land, ask any farmer. So, if it had gone to another farmer, would that have been so bad?

I'm not sure I can really articulate why I feel so uncomfortable about this gift and about the way the whole thing is organised and sold. It just feels wrong and that's all there is to it. Poor Kim, he's so patient and instead of getting all hacked off when I tried to explain why I wasn't beaming smiles and reaching for the Massey catalogues, he did his best to understand what I was saying and then left me to think about it some more. I still can't quite find the words to express why it makes me feel so squirmy, but it does.

Such Unkindness!

I feel very... frustrated... by the plight of someone I know. I don't know her hugely well, though I count her as a friend - we seem to have managed to keep in contact despite us both moving, despite all sorts of mishaps and she is someone I feel comfortable with. She's delightful - very intelligent, funny and with a really warm and caring personality - she's someone you end up spending a lot of time smiling with.

She has been through some pretty dreadful times. A severe accident and now even more trouble to try her and there's not much I can do to help - it's very frustrating. I have been in a very similar position to the one she is in and I don't envy her it one little bit. I know she's strong and I know she is bright and has enough cahunes to come through it all, but somehow, I wish I could do more.

I don't know why I rage at the injustice - maybe it's a reaction to how I felt when it happened to me - but whatever the cause, it has fired me to try to do something to balance a wrong with a right. Lighting a candle won't work for this, as nice as it sounds - this is the sort of thing where I need to pull on my boots and coat, point my face into the storm and be as wild as the weather, use it's energy and howl back at the wind. Yes, I have done enough gentle stuff, now is the time for a little March madness.

Reflexology and Chakras

Today is a blissful day. Today I went to Taunton to the lovely Tanya and had my first ever reflexology treatment. I'm rather stumped as to how to describe it. I had worried that she'd poke and prod and hurt my poor feet but it was just the best thing I have experienced for years. I had a whole hour basking on the treatment table and by half way through the constant sciatic pain that means even lying down hurts, had gone. I felt energised, relaxed and as if I had been wound back five years. To say I bounced out of the treatment like Tigger on speed understates it. She is absolutely amazing.

Meanwhile, the dust was settling at home. Harry had departed, having opened the scullery door and the film of plaster and breeze block dust fell like gentle snowflakes whilst I lay blissed out on Tanya's couch. Lucky, that I felt so good as I had to wash down all the kitchen cupboards, mop the floor several times over and generally de-grit everything. I did all that and I'm still moving better than I have for a while. (Tomorrow he comes back to make more dust by polishing the dining room floorboards, but hey! Another day, another dust.

Anyway, after my wonderful treatment, I told Tanya to hop on her own couch and I did a bit of work with her chakras. Instincts were right and I hope that what I have done will help things along. I don't think it will be long before I book myself in for another reflexology treatment; no, I'm sure it won't!

The Kitchen Nightmare

I have a pile of work to do and I'm trying to concentrate, but the noise is thwarting me. My study is above the kitchen and today we have the delightful Harry banging away with lump hammer and bolster.

Our kitchen is a decent size but maddeningly arranged in 1908 when there weren't all sots of built in units and furniture. There were originally three doors: one from the hall, one to the garden and another into the scullery. The window is about 6' high so it comes to below the level of normal kitchen units and to top it all off, we have the blasted rayburn stuffed into the chimney breast. To say that the kitchen units and decor are a shade outdated would be kind. It's a horrible brownish 1970s confection of fake wood units, foul lino in a manky brown (and that's when it's clean) and wallpaper that was once fashionable in the very early 70s.

The trouble is, to make any changes to the kitchen is such a huge undertaking. You see, we want to change the coal fired rayburn, which is the dirtiest thing ever invented for something that doesn't require me to fortnightly be up to my shoulder in soot and ash cleaning it out, that doesn't mean that each time coal is heaped on the beast the coal dust and ash billow all over the worksurfaces (that's at least 3 times a day), that doesn't go out if I leave the house for any length of time and hopefully something more environmentally friendly. Is that a tall order? Seemingly so.

We have no gas in the village (remoteness has it's downsides), electricity is horribly expensive and there aren't many good options for electrical heating that I know of, and the price of oil is spiralling. We had thought that an oil fired range would be a good idea before the prices started going insane, but now we wonder if we can afford the range and the fuel to run it! The other possibilities we investigated were LPG; I had LPG at my old place and it's great - clean, efficient and though not cheap, it's very cost effective per unit. Sadly, with a garden the size of a pocket handkerchief, we would have to have the bulk tank inside the house to conform to the Health & Safety rules about having it 3 metres away from our boundaries! The smaller cylinders aren't practical as the house is big enough that they would need changing too often.

Alternative heating methods are ground source heat pumps - wonderful in every way if you have loads of garden in which to lay the pipes. A vertically bored ground source heat pump isn't an option for us even as we're so limited on space that we couldn't even get a mini driller on to the pocket handkerchief. We even looked at air source heat pumps, but it seems that although they are regularly used for industrial installations and have evolved to work down to -20 Celsius, there really isn't any sort of domestic installation available - huge shame as that would cost a negligible amount in electricity and the Government haven't yet found a way to tax air yet!

Anyway, that huge ramble was because we're a bit stuck about what to do with the heating, and until we know what we're doing with that, we don't know where we will have to lay pipes and all the other structural gubbins that one needs to sort out before rearranging kitchens. In the meantime, we have had to trudge from the kitchen, out into the garden and around to the scullery via an outdoors route because the last owners of the house bricked up the scullery door. It's a real pain in winter and most unappealing when it rains. Today, the lovely Harry is opening up the scullery door and hopefully that will be an end to soggy trips to do the laundry and fetch coal. It's all going to be rather interesting and new, though the banging isn't conducive to work at the moment. The cat is having a nervous breakdown at the noise and it must be time for a tea break as the banging has stopped - I had better carpe cuppum and get the kettle on...

P.S. If anyone has a clever suggestion for heating alternatives, please leave a comment!

Neat Tool

Oh I do love working on a Mac, but better still is when you find a completely idiot-proof, humungously useful tool. Today I got a copy of SKITCH from Plasq who also do Comic Life, which I love to bits. If you clicked through on any of the thumbnails on the previous post, it took all of 3 seconds to upload them, the thumbnail was created automatically and it's so simple to use it makes me feel clever! Well worth downloading (for free of course) if you had the foresight to get a Mac! (I hear there's a Windows version coming....)

March Begins

I love Spring. It makes me smile to see the blackbirds collecting nesting materials, the sun shining and the days getting longer. Gardens are filling up with colour and I took this snap yesterday:

Uploaded with plasq's Skitch!

and lots more too, so if I'm feeling grey, I can just put on a screnshow of all the wonderful bursting life and how could I not smile?

Uploaded with plasq's Skitch!

Uploaded with plasq's Skitch!

Uploaded with plasq's Skitch!