There… And Back Again!

67632419_329171111371586_2621239714937569280_n

Sometimes I long for the closeted private sanctuary of my own car as I travel about. But, then again, I have no confidence in my own ability to focus sufficiently to drive a car – too away with the fairies most of the time.

My abortive attempts at driving were given up after about eight lessons and a near miss… I took a wrong turn down a country lane on a foggy autumn afternoon and my instructor innocently remarked:

It’s a good job no one saw us – they’d think we were up to no good!”

This served to send me into a fit of hysterical giggling as I drove across (literally across) an unexpected roundabout and my endeavour to become a capable driver ended…

On the other hand, I would miss the weirdly prophetic bus tickets we have here – just look at some of the code words used – as good as any deck of Tarot cards! “Write” is the one that appeared when I was feeling particularly low – I took this as Universe encouragement. “Elbow” – when I was troubled by a nagging pain in, yes, my elbow which spurred me on to visit my doctor for a steroid injection which cured it. “Mouse”… I’m still waiting…

Plus the fact you hear such extraordinary snippets of conversation. My favourites from the past week or so – on the same journey, actually – involved a girl, sitting behind me, talking loudly on her mobile to a friend:

“… and I said ‘Really? It counts as one of your five a day? I didn’t even know it was a vegetable!’ She said ‘Well of course potatoes are vegetables! What did you think they were?’”

To which this girl had replied: “Oh I just thought they were these like starchy things that grew in the ground…”

I was quite glad she was sitting behind me actually, so she couldn’t see the look on my face…

The next snippet – an older lady got on the bus with her wheeled walker and noticed a friend seated over the way. They obviously hadn’t seen each other and the friend listened attentively as she ran through her catalogue of ills. Her next statement made me snort with laughter that I quickly had to disguise as a not-terribly convincing cough…

I’m not going back to that care home though! I can’t be doing with it, all that fighting!”

Her friend leaned forward:

Whatever do you mean?”

You can’t get a minute’s peace – they’re always fighting over the darts on the telly and it’s not just the men!”

That sounds dreadful,” her friend replied, clearly shocked.

Oh I know, I can’t get along with it, not when I’m having chemo as well! Ruby knocked Doris down them little steps! I’m going to ask my grand daughter if she can get me moved…”

At this point, somewhat reluctantly, I must confess, I had to get off the bus as it was my stop; but for the rest of the day I was plagued with questions in my head … did the girl get over her surprise about the nature of potatoes, or was she further traumatised when she encountered something like rhubarb… grown like a vegetable but treated like a fruit…? Should I perhaps watch darts to see if I could understand how the game could induce such rage? Was Doris ever revenged upon Ruby for tipping her down the stairs?

Would the care home in question be a possible future residence for my mother…

Advertisements

Hello…

47222101_1380317135437434_2575579870369153024_n

Good grief… it’s cold and dark in here!

Just give me a minute – I’ll get rid of this dust, put some lights on and get the kettle on.

I only meant to step out for a minute, but somehow, I got lost for a little while.

I’m back now, my dear friends, but please, help yourself to tea and biscuits and tell me all about what’s been going on in your lives.

xxx

Healer And Home.

37423459_289080455170702_1767797664176406528_nImagine my delight when Alex and I popped in to see Liz only to find out she had a whole new hoard of wonderful treasures… Look at these golden delights! This is actually Golden Healer Quartz, quite a newly discovered and New Age crystal, with some truly beautiful qualities and metaphysical benefits to match its appearance too.

37539401_289079665170781_594443969350336512_n

I reached for this box of shimmery goodies with an air of desperation so Liz promptly released them into my avaricious grasp…She went on to explain that the golden colour is due to deposits of iron oxide that have grown with the quartz layers as they form.

37343321_289079805170767_3877901619093831680_n

They vary in colour obviously, but I was particularly drawn to the one pictured below as it has a clear window right through it and a wonderful cross hatching of iron oxide. As with Clear Quartz, Golden Healer Quartz is a multi-purpose crystal, the uplifting colour and nature of it is said to attract success and boost creativity.

37396625_289080015170746_5581201050716602368_n

Again, its golden colouration is associated with the achievement of financial goals, and, like Citrine, it is a crystal of abundance. It has the soft glow and encouraging warmth of the precious metal it’s named for and as such can be used for a lot of positive purposes. It helps you to release self-defeating attitudes – there is light at the end of the tunnel – and forget about unhealthy habits in favour of a positive mental attitude uniting mind, body and spirit.

37378028_289080581837356_8891413546395500544_nThe gentle glow of Golden Healer Quartz helps you to see clearly and maintain your focus on your goals and your faith in yourself that these are achievable, whilst filtering out surrounding distractions. Golden Healer Quartz’s sympathetic and warming vibration gives you the mental strength to move forward after negative events.

37380447_289080738504007_5839870193467129856_n

Three of my girls are very home and me orientated… Lily is the original Cat Who Walks By Herself – but the furthest the others will venture is out into the close where we live and three doors over to where my partner’s mother lives. They quite like visiting Grandma… Home is important to them – their safe space, and my heart hurts for the people who put up sad adverts begging for the safe return of their (fur) baby who has wandered further than usual afield.

I am fortunate in that my cats regard me (I hope) as their home and no matter where I am, that they are secure and happy with me. You can pretty much guarantee that within five minutes of me stepping into the garden that three, possibly four – and sometimes even five – cats will appear to watch what I am doing and add comments…

Why are you digging? I thought you used the inside bathroom …”

Here! I’ll help!”

Who are you??”

I planted some marigolds the other day. When I went to check on their progress this morning, I found that “someone” had carefully dug around the roots of the plants so they’d all fallen over…

37357236_289081071837307_6728928127386386432_n
“We just come for the food…”

My own early home life was all right, all the usual ups and downs and tensions that go with warring divorcing parents… I went through a period of homelessness when I was older too, so home isn’t always necessarily the house in which you’re living. Thus, as I have grown older myself, the true meaning of home is a cat (or two, or three, or four – not you, you don’t live here!) on your knee or on your bed at night purring you to sleep, and love in your heart always.

37395487_289081681837246_3697745234428428288_n
“Just looking – honest!”

And … Sleep!

37043819_282879889124092_422471159536156672_n

The night started reasonably enough, my mind filled with pleasant images of how to look after your roses, and the modern twist on cottage gardens, thanks to the lovely Monty Don and an hour of “Gardener’s World.”

I cleaned my teeth, spilled the cat water, and got into bed, the sheets freshly changed and smelling of lavender, the room pleasantly cool and dark and I dropped off into a peaceful slumber, for all of about three hours…

Then it started.

My partner came to bed, disturbing Charlie who demonstrated her displeasure by vomiting copiously under the bed. So, I got up and cleaned it up, grovelling about on my hands and knees at 3.30a.m. trying not to retch myself as you really don’t want to be dealing with catsick at that time of morning.

Meanwhile, my partner had got himself tucked into bed, wrinkling the sheets on my side and was snoring merrily away. After about half an hour of sighing heavily and thumping my legs about I lost patience and whisper-shouted: “STOP SNORING!!”

Still asleep, he rolled over and there was blissful silence.

Then I got the phantom itches. Have you ever had those? A dreadful, creeping sensation that leaves you convinced that there is some sort of bug in the bed with you… a crawling, that started in my hair, down my ribcage and finished at my left shin, leaving me itchy and so absolutely certain I had a horde of spiderlings in my pyjamas that I had to get out of bed and go to the bathroom to check that my flowery (not glittery) pyjamas were not actually infested with some kind of alien mite.

They weren’t.

Back to bed. My pyjamas then decided to act like a strait jacket, the top wrapping itself uncomfortably tightly around my chest, while the bottoms rolled up in such an engaging and amusing fashion they ended up as tourniquets around the tops of my thighs.

I gave up and got up, just as dawn’s tender fingers were painting the sky delicate shades of blush pink and apricot. Drawn irresistibly outside I sat down in the garden swing, watching the moths conclude the night’s partying chased by bats – “Come back! I didn’t get your number! Are you on NatureBook…?”

Soothed by the scent of petunias and the gentle trickle of the pond waterfall… I fell asleep.

37022197_282878892457525_3709122860493570048_n

Laryngitis. What Fun.

36485846_2077025779284255_9110440171068719104_n

I must apologise for my recent absence – for most of last month a scrubbing brush decided to take up residence in my throat. I know … I seem to have done nothing but whine about being ill lately, but I hate it.

Laryngitis has proved particularly disadvantageous – it’s the first time I’ve ever had it and to be honest, I don’t want it again. Ever. A couple of weeks ago I was helping out at Lizian’s and my voice gave out completely… crystals are the sort of thing you just have to talk about, so I spent most of my time hooting and wheezing and croaking like a demented hybrid of a frog and an owl. Finally I resorted to whispering, leaning forward confidingly to murmur crystal secrets into listening ears… and slightly puzzled faces.

I became a competent mime artist… pointing to relevant parts in the crystal guide books with a broad smile and happy gestures…all the time feeling slightly sick as I consumed yet another variety of antibiotic with chasers of honey and lemon.

I had an annoying ‘phone call with my mother, who is slightly deaf but won’t admit it:

Samantha – what do you want for tea?”

Huw – hee – wah!

What? Stop being stupid! You’ll have to tell me if you want something to eat!”

Eventually I hung up and just texted her.

The dogs thought I was imitating a squeaky toy for their amusement, leaping on me…

The girls, well, they were surprisingly sympathetic… unless they just appreciated my enforced silence…

My doctor – as you might expect, I’ve seen quite a lot of him recently – looked somewhat surprised when I hooted softly into his ear about my scratchy throat and lost vocal ability, but duly diagnosed laryngitis and handed over a prescription for some more antibiotics.

I collected them from the chemist and was somewhat taken aback at the size of them… and the shape.

Currently, my voice is still fading in and out like a badly tuned radio, but I do feel slightly less drained. Bear with me, friends, and I will catch up… unless I get plague in the meantime!

Rhyolite… And Really Naughty Cats!

35348030_256724055073009_6555514871440474112_nRhyolite is actually another member of the Jasper family, its alternative name being Leopardskin Jasper and derived from its intricate pattern of spots and rosettes, like a leopard’s fur coat.

35424690_256710521741029_4487385219589996544_n

It has a directness about it that enhances our spiritual state but also encourages self-acceptance. It’s another crystal that brings emotional balance and stability, especially if you are prone to extreme mood swings.

Rhyolite brings its owner the ability and confidence to deal with tricky situations with calm and compassion in order to reach a quick solution. Who says a leopard can’t change its spots? This crystal paves the way for change and progress, removing doubts and obstacles from our past lives to show us a clearer way forward.

33923623_246490112763070_1002272537402408960_n

Rhyolite is a useful crystal to help with healing skin conditions as it fortifies our natural resistance. It teaches us how to be happy within our own skins and also aids communication with the Animal Kingdom, on this plane and the spiritual.

Hmm…sometimes it doesn’t matter how often you ask, or how politely you phrase it, if a cat decides she’s going to do something – well, it’s going to happen. Simple. My girls have been absolutely full of hell this week, and yes, really quite naughty! I don’t know if it’s the sunshine, but the offences have ranged from opening other peoples’ letters, chewing the corner completely off the wardrobe door and beginning a new patch of wallpaper shredding. Mind you, Charlie’s back is healing nicely and if ripping wallpaper is the therapy she needed to stop over-grooming… what can I do…?

33540431_245291142882967_5141556296943665152_n

Charlie has also invented a new compulsory game that all the cats have to play… basically it involves her hiding, being very quiet, and then when an unsuspecting victim passes, she leaps out – “Brrr-RRP!” scares the living daylights out of them and we all have to run away. I shudder as Ting rushes up the stairs in fright, streamers of carpet trailing from her claws…

35237397_256688888409859_4651654155155275776_n
Ting… in meaningful conversation with the fish… 

Another recent favourite is disconnecting my partner’s speaker system, done with stealth and cunning as the wires are pulled out of the back so when he goes to play his music there is nothing but a faint hum…

Minor misdemeanours really… and not such much naughtiness as joyful expressions of normal cat behaviour. That’s what I say anyway, and then they can do something so unexpected… While I was ill, I managed to summon enough strength to put some bedding plants in, thinking a little gardening would be good therapy.

As usual, all the cats were watching me as I feebly scraped holes in the compost, pushing in petunias and coughing over geraniums. After observing me carefully for about five minutes, Charlie very sweetly brought me half a chewed leaf to plant…

35162259_255078935237521_8938635556468817920_n

(I’m) Back… And Bacteria

35328254_255136011898480_4810138637356236800_n

An interesting couple of weeks… not! Whatever I had became bacterial… I felt no better – in fact, distinctly worse – so I returned to my doctor.

As I sat in his room I couldn’t help but let a tear roll down my face (I hate being ill) as I miserably wheezed and spluttered at him.

Oh, that’s often the case with these bacterial infections,” he said cheerfully.

What?” I thought – overwhelmed by images of wriggling green rod-shaped single-celled organisms flooding my already labouring lungs…

I left the surgery, clutching a prescription for industrial strength antibiotics, of the tetracycline family no less, and some steroids to chase away the maracas-playing demons that seem to have taken up permanent residence in my chest cavity.

So, a little better then, despite the battalions of hairy wrigglers that marched in to colonise my body without so much as a by-your-leave or even wiping their feet… As you may have guessed, I hate being ill. I have a couple of physical issues that I chuck the usual painkillers and physiotherapy at, but having a germy sickness gifted to you and trying to get rid of it is something I don’t deal with very well.

35244100_255136628565085_3495787084667420672_n

I can only put it down to the fact that when I was a little girl I had really bad asthma, so I suppose I associate the weakness of being ill with being a helpless child again, unable to control and unable to understand why my body wouldn’t behave without rendering me breathless, wheezing, aching, condemned to sit quietly in bed.

As a result, I learned to read quite early in life, giving me another much loved source of entertainment – no mobiles, computers, etc…I remember Alex asking me whether television had been invented then and replying somewhat indignantly – and being generally watched over by my cat Snoopy and the dogs. However, times and medications change, although asthma is a frightening condition if not controlled and on average, according to statistics from www.asthma.org.uk three people a day still die from this.

But now, I have set about vanquishing my unwanted and unwelcome bacteria (the friendly ones can stay) with ginger, turmeric, thyme, sage, steroids, antibiotics, cough medicine, throat sprays, crystals and cats… (Hypochondriac? Me? Not at all…) I think I feel better. Although Charlie is still giving me funny looks when she hears me breathing …

35273569_255077408571007_1013584051035963392_n (1)