My Pocket

Soaked nightingales

Oh, thank you all so much for your encouraging comments on my previous post - it warmed my heart and I will make good use of your advice! :) Sorry I went AWOL for a while, I had my dad come over to visit for a few days and we had a busy schedule, but delightful. On Tuesday we went to London, just him and me, and saw the Christmas Market in Covent Garden.

The little things always do it for me - like the twinkling lights in the white wintery decorations everywhere, the smell from the cafes, the violin playing band (Pachelbel's Cannon in D - performed while wooing the passer-byes, sticking their violins in the rushed shoppers' faces), passing by Big Ben on Westminster Bridge, watching the red double-deckers and black London cabs speeding by in the drizzle and reading the poetry on the walls of the underground pedestrian tunnels. I thought this one snippet was appropriate as we've been having characteristic misty rain and thick, creamy fog these last few days (after the driest autumn since 1914). Love the first line - above the hurt sky is weeping.

Last night we went to see The Darjeeling Limited (finally - I've been longing ever since I heard Wes Anderson made another one!), in a little cinema in Winchester that used to be a church. Oh man... I just love his magic. His idea alone of letting his characters be oblivious of any constraints of finance is brilliant - it frees up so much scope for adventures and delightful quirks, like the careless travelling and (the wonderful) coordinated suitcases in this particular film. It being set on a train winding through India with all its colourful places made my day too, so many memories made me smile and glow. Oh I love going to the cinema - especially this time of the year!

I will keep you updated on the photo prints, I'm working on it :). So glad you like the idea! I've started up a little shop on Etsy and will fill it up with prints as soon as I've got things established with the printer. I'm all excited about it, but will have to pace myself so that I have time to finish the assignments I've got left to hand in before Christmas. Hoping you all are getting ready for the twinkly, warm and cozy vibes of December coming up, I know I am! :)

the seedling

Hello! I hope your Sunday is unravelling the way you want it to and that the sun is shining where you are. I'm so happy you come over here to read and I'm grateful for all you wonderful friends I'm making through this space, it's bringing so much into my life.

For the moment I've got a little adventure on my mind, something Maddie sowed the seed to and now it's sprouting dainty little green leaves in my head and just won't give up growing. You've got to see her place - it's the most magical, delightful and inspiring corner with poetry, beautiful words and amazing photos of her very own magic.

The little seedling is the thought of selling my photos as prints - what do you think? I was hoping you could help me out a little and decide which photos, if any, might be suitable for it - would you do that for me? If I should be so lucky and have lurkers reading - then do feel very welcome to say something too if you'd like. Or not - I know what it's like to be shy :).

I've put together a set called possible prints? on flickr and it would be wonderful if you'd like to leave little comments on which photo/s you would like to see as a print. I'd love to send all of you a print as thanks, but as that is out of my reach for the moment I'd like to send the first three to comment one. I rarely get more than three comments anyway, so I'm hoping this is fair. :)

This photo above is one I found in the backwaters of iPhoto that has never been uploaded to flickr and I kind of like it so I'm including it in my possible prints - what do you think of it?

Looking forward to hearing what you say about it all - hoping you will say something, fingers crossed! In any case, I'm thoroughly enjoying myself which is the main thing. Ha, to think I am almost a real photographer! :)

december delights

This is turning out to be a delightful weekend. Yesterday I got all excited - it's Friday and I've got the weekend off, oh the things I can do! I went out gathering material for decorations first of all: holly, rosehip twigs, white roses, lavender and pine cones amongst other things. These I arranged in a turquoise and blue handmade ceramic bowl I found once.

Then I stuffed moss in these little glass jars with a small amount of water in the bottom. (All the while thinking of you Abbey - and your mum arranging moss!)

This morning I went to Alresford, a small village a little way from here that has the most delightful little houses, shops and streets. I was on the pursuit of ribbon, colourful tissue paper for wrapping presents, hyacinths, tazettes and possibly some small Christmas presents. Would you like to come with me and see?

I adore these kind of British houses, they're so quaint and traditional, with at least a colourful door if not the whole wall, plants climbing up to the windows, potted plants on the sidewalk and the whole house is basically on the sidewalk.

This colourful row of houses always makes me turn my head when we pass by, aren't they wonderful?

A man was selling his strings of onions on the corner just when I arrived. Doesn't it look just so old-fashioned and sweet?

They were putting up these tiny Christmas trees on every other house today, together with some fairy lights - it must look so pretty in the evening.

The old fire station has been done up, but no fire engines work there anymore - just for show. I do wish things were built and designed in the same thoughtful, beautiful way as in the olden days though - doesn't it make you smile, the details and the colours?

I went in all the tiny shops, looking at all their small things and listening to the happy buzz of people. I passed the greengrocer with their sidewalk display of fruit and vegetables and popped into the florist's after choosing from their pots and loose flowers outside. I found my hyacinths, tazettes, tissue paper and a small Christmas present for a certain someone who's been so kind and encouraging to me lately.

On my way home from the bus I picked this hydrangea that still has some of its colour to go with the tazettes - the room smells wonderful now. Next weekend, on the first of December, I'll be at college so I'm having my December preparations this week. My mum and I don't celebrate Christmas so much as we celebrate December - we love every day of it up until the actual Christmas days, when we're quite happy to just leave the whole thing. We both want plenty of lights, candles, little decorations, hyacinths and amaryllis before that, the coziest three weeks.

The last week or two of November we'll put up our advent star light, because it's in November you need the light the most and I get the same thrill every year when I've set it up and flick the light switch. The room fills with soft, warm orange light and small blurry twinkles dance on the ceiling and the walls.

smelling the roses

These November raspberries I picked on my way to work two weeks ago. I'm always late for work in the morning, always. I have a commute of three minutes through the loveliest route - I'll tell you: first through the garden surrounding our little cottage, across the lawn, past the apple trees, under the beeches, then I cross the little lane, into the shady little path under the yew tree leading up to the rose garden gate, then the boxtree flanked gravel path, past the various roses, lavender bushes and chrysantemums, under the grape vines, to the second garden gate, past the greenhouses, the raspberry row, the little orchard and the bench with the wind chime in the tree and the last stretch next to the herb bed and fig trees and I'm there.

I begin my brisk walk rather flustered - woollen hat, mittens and scarf put on in a hurry, jacket buttons buttoned on the run, shoes jumped into while opening the door and key thrown into a pocket. I take the corner of the house berating myself, muttering under my breath - Geez Caroline, you've done it again, how can you be so late! Secretely though, I often thoroughly enjoy myself. Do you ever enjoy doing the small naughty things in life? Like sitting down and relishing a magazine complete with cup of tea when the house is a mess? Or treating yourself to a certain something you came across, for money that should have gone to the supermarket shopping? I don't know what you might do - just that 'what the heck' moment, 'I deserve it'? Well, for the moment, for me it's catching up on years of neurotic time-keeping it seems, and I am so lucky I can get away with it.

I've been an on-the-dot person most of my life. I remember bursting into tears one morning when my mum dropped me off at school because I could see my class already filing into the classroom as we came in the door. I'd be ridiculously early for the rest of my school time or any other appointments, preferring waiting to rushing. That changed somehow, don't ask me when. I've let friends wait for me for an embarrassingly long time - I once found Eli on my porch having completed a whole painting in my absence, making herself at home luckily. As pleased as I am about having learnt to go with the flow more and relax, I don't plan to do that again, now that I've tried it and proved to myself that I'm still ok, I'm still on people's christmas card lists.

I know I will return to being a (mostly) time-keeping person some day though, because I like it. I have to have time to stop and smell the roses, shuffle my feet, breathe in the atmosphere of the places I pass, talk to the trees, watch the birds, smile to people, search out the details that make life richer and more meaningful to me, like patterns here and there, sounds of work being done, smells drifting past and textures wanting to be touched. I'm a touchy-feely person for sure, with all its benefits and draw-backs as being sensitive isn't always a helpful thing. I get so overwhelmed regularly that I reject it all, wanting to stay in bed. However, back to the story: of all these helplessly late mornings I've learnt something. That it is possible to be late and have to rush, but not be stressed. It's more difficult, sure, but you can let your body move quickly without tensing up unnecessarily, let your mind come to peace with the fact that if I miss the bus I'll miss the bus, whether I worry about it or not, allow yourself to enjoy everything that flies past you and perhaps even smile at it.

Of course, I've got it easy - with the most delightful commute, no buses to miss and no strict time-table, so maybe I'm not really allowed to talk about such things, but I wanted to share it with you in case you might find it useful. I'm so happy to have found this Wellness Wednesday sharing through Lunar Musings, and I'd like to try to think of things that I do already and things I'd like to introduce into my life for my own and other people's wellness, on a Wednesday.

Wishing you time to stop and smell the roses (I snatch a twig of lavender myself on my morning rush)

what i wear

Have you seen the Self Portrait Challenge site? It's been around for so long and I've only just stumbled across them - but I'd like to try now! It's something I dared myself to do in February and I did do it for a while, but lately I've dropped it, due to lack of inspiration. Having a challenge every month could be exactly what I need, putting some magic back into it. For November it's what you wear:

...post an image of your everyday outfit - for work, or the weekend or whenever - and explain where you are going, what you are wearing and where the clothes came from - do they have personal significance or does the colours or fabrics have a meaning for you? Do you wear a particular brooch every Sunday or do you have a favourite hat that you only wear while gardening - explain your idiosyncrasies - perhaps you wear pink on Wednesdays - or your grandpas old socks to bed…

In this photo I am about to go off for a walk and have just come back from work. I am free to wear pretty much what I want for work, but I've dared myself over a few years to inch from the casual and non-descript to the comfortable but distinctive. I'm still exploring what my very own style is, but I've learnt so much about what I feel comfortable in, what suits me and what limits I will go to. For instance, I wear skirts and dresses more often than not these days, whereas a year or two ago that was unheard of. In the beginning I kept getting compliments (at least I think they were compliments) along the lines of - "Wow, I've never seen you wear a skirt before!".

However, at this time I also found a pair of favourite Wrangler jeans that I still love the fit of and wear often, they're in the photo above. I found them in a charity shop I go to lots as for the moment my studies are taking their toll, but I'm very happy searching for second hand clothes, it suits me very well. Where I live there are quite a lot of well-off people who can afford to buy good quality lines and give them away after the first use if they're not happy. You never know what you might find and the atmosphere in those shops is so much more relaxed and content - the way shopping should be I think.

You can't see it really, but I'm wearing a green and white striped longsleeved top underneath my pullover, that was also a second hand find, brand new. I adore stripes you might notice. The woollen pullover is from White Stuff a few years ago and I haven't worn it much lately but decided to pull it out again. It's only flaw is it's too short - I don't like anything that leaves my midriff bare, both for vain reasons and health-wise; exposure to cold. The jacket is a boiled wool one that I adore, it's perfect for slightly chilly autumn days, and I bought that in Reading on one of my college weekends this autumn. I'll show you the whole thing in a later post. The scarf is a woollen, sage green in a wonderful slanting and overlapping weave that was made in India, don't know anything more about it except it's wonderfully warm for being so light. I've been in love with greens over the last year - soft, natural and muted colours.

In the House of Anima

She rolled slowly on her back and lay for a last few moments
in the dark warmth of her bed. The rain, spattering intermittently
against the window, made her cocoon feel all the more like a
soft glove. She hugged the sheet and the eiderdown,
an old flock one that her grandmother had made.
These were the times when her dreams came floating to the
surface, when her mind was wide open and the daily
routine had not yet heaved into motion. This morning, it was different.
No images had swum to the surface, and she was content
to lie there with open eyes resting on the faded rose pattern
of the eiderdown. For moments on end, she lay as in a waking trance,
aware only that she was happy. The rain beat down, and she drew her
long legs up to her stomach in a shudder of pleasure, smiling at the
petulant morning outside.

Today, she would light the fire downstairs. Today, she would not
step outside the door of her house, she would conduct no business,
she would receive no callers. Today was to be her day, and she would
spend it filling her house with herself; she would lay claim to her place.

Slipping at last from the cocoon of the covers, she sat on the bed
with her feet on the carpet; a blue and red Turkish one with thick, coarse pile,
woven by a dozen women outside a tent on the Anatolian plains: another
world beneath the press of her feet. As she leaned her weight on the floor
those women, their headbands dangling gold coins, silver bracelets all up
their arms, flew up to meet her, sisters somehow, their fierce sense of belonging
stretching across time. This morning, she knew she belonged; she belonged exactly
where she was, in her tiny stone cottage in the Cotswolds, in England.
She belonged there as unequivocally as those women had belonged to Anatolia.

From the book Soul and Sensuality by Roger Housden

Hold on

Down by the Riverside motel,
It's 10 below and falling
By a 99 cent store she closed her eyes
And started swaying
But it's so hard to dance that way
When it's cold and there's no music
Well your old hometown is so far away
But inside your head there's a record
That's playing a song called

Hold on, hold on
Baby gotta hold on
Take my hand, I'm standing right here
You gotta hold on.

Tom Waits, Hold On (Mule Variations)

For all these song lyrics I fall in love with and insist on putting on my blog I've been trying to find a way for you listen to them. This player I have in my sidebar now works well and I've added the songs I've written about so far, unless they were not available free anywhere online. I hope you'd like to use it. It should be simple and non-intrusive, just press play and listen while you read and if you want to continue it will play as long as the window is open.

With this song I love the comforting repetition of hold on and it often pipes up in my head when I'm beginning to wilt. And, I adore the god bless your crooked little heart, never fails to make me smile (a crooked little smile) :).

bird balance

This little bird has been singing in my ear since I passed him on my way chasing setting sunlight yesterday. I've kept the photo open to look at while doing other things and that little body perched on a twig above has been speaking to me. I love the balance birds have - tail in the air, head tilted, eyes alert, feet gripping the tiny perch below, trusting that it will support them until they fall forward and plunge into flight on those swift little wings. As fleeting and busy their lives are, that brief moment when they alight has so much stillness, peace and purpose to it.

My wishes today:

~ To have more female kindred spirits in my life
~ To be able to give more freely and not be held back by my fear and awkwardness
~ To be able to see the magic in all things great and small
~ To have the courage to see myself for who I am, the challenging but also the wonderful
~ To let myself be, who I am, right now, whether I will change or not

Wishing you light wings, fresh breezes to sail on and soft, safe nests to recover in.

sunday sunset watching

Search there

Sometimes you get as frightened
as a camel.
Sometimes you get stuck in the mud
like hunted prey.

O young fool,
how long will you keep running away
from yourself?
In the end,
the thing will happen anyway.

Just go in the direction
where there is no direction.
Go, search there.

Rumi, from The Forbidden Rumi

The best dreams I've ever had were ones where I was running for my life, someone or something in hot pursuit on my heels, feeling my life trailing behind me like a long robe, expecting any moment to have it stepped on, getting me caught, trapped and slaughtered. The effort to run with a body that feels like rain-sodden mud slithering down a slope rather than a decisive, adrenaline-fuelled dash and the terror and desperation of the pursuer never letting up would get me closer and closer to panic, every muscle aching and my heart suffering start after start as each hiding place is uncovered and we escape narrowly. The two times these dreams have turned into my best dreams, do you know what happened? I stopped. I turned around, stretched my arms out, bared my chest and received the bullet. The moment it touched my skin with a surge of energy I woke up, in bliss.