Freezing at the Beach House tonight

We are having a real cold snap - as in I can't feel my toes and I have the heater on full blast.  In fact I think I need to go in hunt of slippers.  Didn't find slippers  - but did find sox which are next best thing.
Labradogs are snuggled up and sleeping and the cats have found warm spots to turn into fuzz balls.  I'm jealous - I want to be that warm!!!!


I'm off to plan a writing schedule.

"Tonight my baby and me we're gonna ride to the sea and wash these sins from our hands."

Surfacing

Things at The Beach House have been somewhat hectic over the past few months. The recession caught up with us and money has been at a premium, trying to get The Man of the House sorted with steady work has been a strain and then there is the saga of Joshua's leg. Short version: skin cancer removed, found benign, major infection in site when stitches removed, stitches replaced, infection worse, kid on bedrest for over 3 weeks, bandages off today YAY. It was actually a lot more painful and gross than that - but I'll spare you all the details :-)
He finally had the bandages off today and well yayness as my darling friend Frenzy would say.
So hopefully I'll be able to get back in here a bit more often and actually write more. But for now I'm off to catch up on Brucedom.....

I do not like the cold. At all. Ever. And the Great Urban Ark is Very Cold at the moment. In fact the Government announcement of plans to subsidise the reinsulation of New Zealand homes was met with a somewhat icy “can they do it NOW?” from the resident pre-teen.
After spending a couple of very chilly weeks trying to tell ourselves that two oil heaters were sufficient to heat a m2 house we finally conceded and bought some firewood. This decision was met with relief by the slobradogs, cats, and offspring - all of which were getting sick of being swathed in blankets - and unnerving enthusiasm by the wood seller. The Man of The House is trying valiantly to eke out the wood supplies but is losing the battle against pets, kids and editors and has been recently seen eyeing up the Silver Birch in the front yard....

If we are feeling it indoors it is nothing compared to what is being felt down in the yard. The Henny Penny Gang are so miffed with the cold they have not only gone off the lay but have decided the best spot to be on the entire section is on the slate steps at the front of the house. These warm up in the sun and retain the heat for quite some time. Of course getting in and out of the house when your front step is covered in poultry is not always that easy – or safe for that matter. Apart from the real danger of falling over a chicken, THPG are not exactly housetrained (or steptrained for that matter) and you have to be careful when avoiding falling over the girls to not step in a large dollop of chicken poo, slipping and landing on the very bird you were trying to avoid. And don’t get me started on the mess it makes when one of the two legged residents walks in said poo and then into the house, only noticing when someone over the age of 20 screams “what on earth IS that all the way up the stairs?”
The Indian Runners don’t like THPG taking up residence on the step either. Firstly because Scooter and Wobbles like to sit there themselves. Secondly they are just a teensy bit scared of THPG and would much prefer it if the girls took themselves off to the end of the garden and scratched up my freshly planted alyssum as they normally do. I suspect the Runners think the chooks are a bit wussy when it comes to the cold as for some reason the chook water never freezes over while the duck’s favourite bowl regularly turns into a miniature skating rink ( I don’t know why that one bowl freezes – maybe it’s shape is wrong or something?). This never fails to leave Wobbles nonplussed to discover that instead of drinking all she can manage is a passable Woody Woodpecker impersonation. It usually takes her a good five minutes to figure out the other bowl is available – and she always gets a surprise when she finds THAT bowl ISN’T frozen. Wobbles isn’t very bright.
Oh and if you are into Social Networking you can find me on Twitter as:
denswriter
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for work as
RuralLiving
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BtoBAuckland.

I'd love to hear from you!

For now though I have to go and get some writing done - next post I'll talk about The Reluctant Witch - and catch up on the loads of very patient friends and family who are so overdue in recieving email from me. If any of you are watching this - smoochies and know even if I'm slacking at the email at the moment, I'm thinking of you.

Hope in our Hearts

"For what are we without hope in our hearts" - Bruce Springsteen

That someday we'll drink from God's blessed waters

And eat the fruit from the vine
I know love and fortune will be mine
Somewhere across the border

So here I am tonight listening to Bruce sing Across the Border - a song I want played at my funeral just by the by - and that got me thinking about how to get across that damned border(not the one to my funeral lol). I feel as though I've been at the crossing for years waiting for the gaurd to check my passport and want to scream "will ya just get on with it already!"

I'm getting sick of waiting and starting to think maybe the thing to do is to just put my head down and start wading across that damned river. Boy am I full of imagery(or soemthing) tonight.

Tade asked me the other day if I worked well with a routine - and I couldn't answer him. But you know something I'm standing still without one so if it will get me over that bloody border, bring on the routine I say. And if anyone has any suggestions, boy am I open to them.

So tonight's exercise girls and boys is this:

HOW does one set up a routine

and more importantly

HOW does one make it work?

I have the mama thing, the wife thing, the work thing, the second job thing, the write a novel thing all needing to happen and at the moment - they're all just one big MESS. So do I make them all daily or do I give them their own days? Did I mention gym, buddhism, and jelly belly? Or sleeping?

And here's the rest of the song, from The Ghost of Tom Joad album

Across the Border - Bruce Springsteen

Tonight my bag is packed
Tomorrow I'll walk these tracks
That'll lead me across the border

Tomorrow my love and I
Will sleep 'neath auburn skies
Somewhere across the border

We'll leave behind my dear
The pain and sadness we found here
And we'll drink from the Bravo's muddy waters

Where the sky grows grey and white
We'll meet on the other side
There across the border

For you I'll build a house
High up on a grassy hill
Somewhere across the border

Where pain and memory
Pain and memory have been stilled
There across the border

And sweet blossoms fill the air
Pastures of gold and green
Roll down into cool clear waters

And in your arms 'neath open skies
I'll kiss the sorrow from your eyes
There across the border

Tonight we'll sing the songs
I'll dream of you my corazon
And tomorrow my heart will be strong

And may the saints' blessings and grace
Carry me safely into your arms
There across the border

For what are we
Without hope in our hearts
That someday we'll drink from God's blessed waters

And eat the fruit from the vine
I know love and fortune will be mine
Somewhere across the border

Playing with my blog

let's see if I got it right

Let's Talk About Belly Dancing, Water Tanks, and Teenage Musicians

After an exhausting week of Biz Expo and covering the Biz Support Awards, I was looking forward to Queen's Birthday Weekend.  

Saturday I took the resident teenager over The Bridge to record his first EP with his band. I am so very very proud of him - he has shown a dedication and passion that few adults have, let alone teenagers.  He's a bit disappointed that I haven't yet listened to the tracks - still in their raw state - but the truth is the water tank and the belly dancing interrupted things. 

So having spent Saturday on the shore in my manager/mum role I spent a lazy Sunday taking my time to get moving.  In the afternoon I took the aforementioned teenager to do the grocery shopping and have a coffee - it was a nice way to spend a couple of hours.  I enjoyed laughing with him.  Anyway once home I set about making a dinner of fish cakes, mashed potatoes, peas and was even convinced to make a sticky chocolate pudding.  Oh boy did I score big on the Mama scale.  Kids snuggled up warm with full tummies to read books under duvets - and that's when it went to custard.  And not the sticky chocolate pudding kind either!  Somebody flushed a toilet and there was the awful gurgling sound that on the odd occassion I have experienced it has left me wondering a)why we still haven't put an indicator flag on our water tank and b)how is that we go through that amount of water when I struggle to get at least two of my offspring into the shower or the tub?!  Hot on the heels of these thoughts was the stomach sinking realisation that we hadn't yet done the dishes.  Plates, pots, ovendishes - covered in mashed potato, fish cake, and sticky chocolate pudding were setting hard in the kitchen and there was neither dishwasher nor sink to be used.  

Monday morning was that kind of brilliant cold that seems to shimmer - you can just about see the air it's so crisp. The kind that ices over the duck's water dish and makes them sound like woodpeckers when they insist on trying to drink it.   So porridge was a must - and that meant making it with milk because there was no water.  The kids thought it was Christmas and of course now want it made with milk every day - but hello - 5 cups of milk every day?  Sorry guys - not gonna happen.  But I digress - we discovered there would be no water delivery since here in NZ, yesterday was a public holiday (Happy Birthday Queen Lizzie and all that jazz).  In the meantime we'd filled my biggest stock pot from the garden tank and set it to boil so we could dispatch some of these dishes.  It took forever to boil but when it did..those plates were hospital quality sterile!  So were our hands.  Luckily there is a public loo just down the road so that took care of THAT problem and hot milky cocoa took care of thirsty family members.  I threw some frozen vege stock and soup bones in the crockpot - not literally you understand - added some fresh veggies and left it to turn itself into soup while I made bread with thoughts of fresh bread and soup for dinners.  Leaving the dough to rise, I piled everyone in the car and took them to the big public (not to mention FREE) indoor swimming pool in town and we all had a swim, then lined up for hair conditioner and showered in the changing rooms.  As is often the case in these situations we had a ball - racing the kids around the pool and pretending to jump on jellyfish.  But there was a surprise waiting at home....remember the bread dough?  Remember we have labradors?  Well I had forgotten that part.  We got home to steaming hot soup, an empty bread dish and a very guilty looking black labbie.  I did manage to pull together some scones to have with the soup but I didn't speak to Fitzy for the rest of the evening. 

This morning the water was delivered and toilets are flushing, showers are running, teeth can be cleaned and dishes can be washed.  Thank heavens. 

So off to jelly belly I took myself.  And for once I actually could do some of the steps and didn't feel like the great white whale galloping around.  I even - shock, horror - enjoyed it.  It's a weird thing - what looks like a simple swaying movement is actually a really complicated, mapped out move and somehow my camels all go backwards, my figure eights want to be figure 32's and my hip lifts look like something Miss Piggy might do.  But I have to admit - I have yet to find a workout that is more intense....mind you that could be coz I'm doing it wrong  and spend all my time racing around trying to catch up! 

What Is In Our Hearts

Everything depends on what is in our hearts. If we decide to ourselves that something is impossible, then, consistent with our minds in thinking so, even something that is possible for us will become impossible. On the other hand, if we have the confidence that we can definitely do something, then we are already one step closer to achieving it in reality.

 - Daisaku Ikeda

It is a beautiful Sunday morning here at The Beach House - I hung out a load of laundry at about 7.30 and it's nearly dry.  Den stayed down in Hamilton last night with his Mum - Ian appears to be recovering slowly but steadily. 

I had bought 10kg of apples off Trade Me for $4.50 from a guy just out of Hamilton and Den collected them in the afternoon while the ward was closed to visitors - but I then had to battle with him on the phone to not give them all away.  Luckily I had suggested that he see if there was a second 10kg case available  and there was.  I know that Den would want to give apples to everyone he met - and it's not that I object to that and it's not that I don't want to share.  It's that when you have 3 kids and two are teenagers - at 11 Elijah eats as much as his 16 year old brother - I really need to fill our freezer as economically as possible and that first 10kg case is earmarked for stewing and chutney and lunchboxes.  So it made more sense that, at the price, we get a second box for sharing.  I suspect however that somewhere around peeling kilo five I'll wish we'd shared both boxes.....  

I am trying to pull together a business plan for an idea I've had.  Don't get me wrong, I love my job (if Karla is reading this she's laughing) but I really would like to be able to work from home and have some time to work on my book.  Besides I think it IS a good idea so would like to give it whirl.  Who knows it might trigger another blog. 

Well I guess I better go back to the kitchen - pretend I'm being enthusiastic about THAT. 

Don't Wear The False Smile On Your Face

Don't wear the false smile on your face, it can only leave stretch marks on your face. Try to smile at heart, that will come to your face by itself.

Isn't that gorgeous - don't wear the false smile on your face, it can only leave stretchmarks on your face.  Who wants stretch marks on their face?  Ack!  So my determination is to smile from my heart - and not just to save myself from facial stretchmarks but also because I'm sure it shows when your smile comes from there. 

Ian has been moved from ICU to Cardiac Care which is a huge relief.  We got a call from the hospital last night at 11 saying he had los ground and there was something wrong with the heart.  Neither of us got a great deal of sleep - and neither did the family down at the hospital, but he seems to have stabilised now - so cross fingers....

So I've almost got my head into a place where I can start writing - almost being the operative word here...stay tuned. 

Too cold for more tonight

by the by - if you click the title above you'll go to the ayurveda site I found that gorgeous phrase along with a whole pile of other nuggets

Live In A Way That is Full of Life

Live in a way that is full of life... for yourself, for your loved ones, for your friends. People who do so will find the courage to transform sufferings into hopes. Not only that, but they will be able to light the lamp of hope in the hearts of many others, as well.
- Daisaku Ikeda

I read a book once called A Crack In Forever. Fabulous title which the book didn't quite live up to - or maybe it was just where I was at the time. Whatever it was, the title stayed with me for whatever reason. And I've been thinking a lot about it over the past few days. When someone you care about is standing close to that edge of forever, faith suddenly takes on a whole new meaning and importance.

Shakyamuni wanted to find a way to relieve all people of the sufferings of birth and death. So many of us - me included - say our faith has taught us to no longer fear death. In and of itself that is great but I got to wondering about how many of us actually learn to live in a way that is full of life - and if that isn't the true purpose of faith. I'm not talking about the organisation we might belong to, or the building we attend, or the 'ism we adhere to. I'm talking about living a life based on faith that life is in fact a wonderful thing and that must be lived in a way that is full of life, of faith, of meaning. It seems to me we waste a lot of time trying to define ourselves by our successes, which in turn are usually defined in terms of material gains or status in one way or another - but are we living in a way that shows others that it is not death that causes our suffering - it is not embracing our life that does.
I'm not sure if I'm explaining what I mean that well - all I know is that these past few days I've been thinking that when we die it all means nothing unless we lived every single minute for what it is. If it is a moment of fear, of anger, of joy, of courage - embracing it, accepting it, and appreciating our life for what it is - life. I think that might be where faith is really meant to lead us - because when we get to that place, death is nothing more than a moment to be embraced on the journey.

Sunday

No clever titles tonight - it's 11.37 and I'm shattered. Den's darling Dad - Ian - was taken to Thames hospital this morning so we drove straight down to be with his mum. As we were finishing lunch the hospital phoned to say he had had a massive heart attack and was being transferred to Waikato ICU. We drove straight over - making calls on the way - and settled into ICU to wait, as Ian had been sent to the cardiac wing first. When he arrived - it was not good. I thought poor Den was going to faint and Merle (Den's mum) went as white as a sheet.
Elijah has camp tomorrow and there was nothing more I could do, so I left Den there with Merle and brought Meg and Lij home. The Dr saw them not long after - it was a massive heart attack and had he not already been in the hospital he would not have survived. Now it's a case of waiting til tomorrow to see how he is then.

Throw The Bone

I have decided that watching the Saturday evening family flick with the kids is one of life's greatest pleasures.  Tonight it's Night At The Museum.  Corny as all hell I know but ya gotta love that dinosaur when he wags his tail!

Anyway - the first rule on Stiller's list is Throw The Bone and I got to thinking about how in fact that wasn't a bad rule to live by.  When life is getting scary - and let's face it a bad day FEELS like there is a dinosaur threatening to eat you - sometimes the best thing to do is to step up and throw the bone and see what happens.  Most times the dinosaur chases it.    I'll get back to you on what to do when it doesn't :-)

For me, chanting Nam Myoho Renge Kyo is my version of Throwing The Bone. So far the dinosaur has always chased that bone.  

I started up phase one of my new life tonight.  RHW Enterprises has made its first baby step into existance with www.rhwpr.webs.com   - a pr and media service for young performing artists who are unsure of how to get media presence or don't have the money for a PR firm.   It also gives me an opportunity to play with websites and schedules and stuff.  And if I can help some younger artists - well who knows.....

Working On A Dream

I'm working on a dream
Though sometimes it feels so far away
I'm working on a dream
And how it will be mine someday

Rain pourin' down I swing my hammer
My hands are rough from working on a dream
I'm working on a dream

I'm working on a dream
Though trouble can feel like it's here to stay
I'm working on a dream
Our love will chase the trouble away 

 - Bruce Springsteen

Don't ask me to explain why I love that damned song coz I can't.  It just makes me feel good.  As does the person who sings it.  And feeling good is good enough me - go on name the song.  Another great song writer wrote it for the singer he was involved with at the time and she made it famous.  And if you can name the singer you're as beyond help as I am. 

Rural Living went fairly smoothly today which suprised me, since I woke up with a real bastard of a headache.  I tried cowering in bed for an extra half hour but not only did the day not go away, neither did the headache!  It was WT weather (witches tit - cold)so I dug out my warmest sweater which you would think would be the best thing to do.  HA!  By the time I got to the office the temperature had moved up from WT to slightly chilly and I felt like I was walking around in a sauna set to maximum!  By ten oclock I looked like I was walking in one too.  Luckily I am hopeless at emptying my car and there was a bag of yoga gear in the boot I was able to change into. 

The afternoon was spent proofing and checking - and driving poor Virin insane.  It's not that I mean to do that - it just sort of happens sometimes.  Besides if it is of any consolation at all - his workload is only increasing in perfect correlation to mine.  The more I have on my list - the more he has on his :-)

And so another issue is done and it's back to working on a dream

Mutton and Barley Broth from Shop Local, Eat Well

This is a gorgeous recipe: inexpensive, easily adapted, tasty, and perfect for an icy winter night.  I made it tonight for the kids and they loved it 

For slow cooking, mutton beats lamb hands down. It is much meatier and adds great flavour to the humblest of ingredients.

Serves 6

2 tbsp avocado or ricebran oil

500 g trimmed boneless shoulder or leg of mutton, cut into 1 cm thick pieces

1 tsp cumin seeds, lightly crushed

1 onion, peeled and finely chopped

2 sticks celery, trimmed and diced

1 large carrot, peeled and diced

1 small swede or turnip, peeled and diced

2 sprigs of rosemary

2 fresh or 1 dried bay leaf

1.5 litres fresh lamb stock (see page 156)

100 g pearl barley, rinsed

salt and freshly ground black pepper

 

Heat half the oil in a large saucepan and gently fry the mutton with the cumin seeds, stirring, for 3–4 minutes until browned all over. Remove from the saucepan on to a plate, using a slotted spoon.

Heat the remaining oil in the same saucepan
and fry the vegetables for 5 minutes until softened but not brown. Return the mutton to the pan, add the herbs and pour over the stock. Bring to the boil, reduce to a gentle simmer, cover and cook for about 1½ hours until tender. Add the pearl barley, bring back to the boil, cover and continue to cook, for a further 50 minutes until the barley is swollen and tender.
Discard the herbs and season well.

Ladle into warmed soup bowls. Serve immediately with bread to mop up the stock.

From:  Shop Local Eat Well: Cooking with Seasonal Produce in New Zealand by Kathryn Hawkins with Laura Faire (New Holland Publishers, 2009 RRP $29.99)

Polishing The Mirror

Having decided we would set up a Basics of Buddhism course in Beachlands, tonight we had a practice run for the  first evening.  I'm not really sure why - it's not like we haven't done this before!  Mind you we've always been part of a larger group at the main Kaikan - not out here on our own.  Oh well if you don't try...  After filling the kids with mutton and barley broth (see recipe next post) Dennis and I packed up The Gohonzon and took ourselves down to the Log Cabin.  I have to say at this point that the Log Cabin is like something out of a novel by Maeve Binchy or Rosamunde Pilcher. Perched on the hill overlooking the wharf, battered by the rain and icy wind it wasn't too difficult to imagine some lovelorn local ghost waiting inside.  Somewhat disappointingly there was instead quite a bit of dust, an old but what turned out to be reliable heater, and a collection of old chairs.  Dust or not - the place has a wonderful feel and once the heater had kicked in, it was quite warm.   We began gongyo and were promptly joined by a small moth - let's call him Dusty.  Dusty spent the better part of gongyo trying to fly in either Dennises mouth, nose or ear - depending which he was closest to.  At one point - still chanting and trying not to giggle (tho we were failing miserably at this last both of us) - I managed to trap it and flick it away.  Before we had finished the next word, Dusty was back, trying to fly in Den's ear!

With nobody there but us there was little point staying late.  As I packed gear back into the car and Den locked up he realised the street lamp which had been off when we arrived was now on.  Nothing like daimoku for charging batteries!  Just as this thought occurred to him - the light went out.   We decided to see what would happen if we chanted again - and yup light came back on.  Forget the EverReady Bunny - just chant :-)

First real session next Wednesday - stay tuned

"When deluded, one is called an ordinary being, but when enlightened, one is called a Buddha. This is similar to a tarnished mirror that will shine like a jewel when polished. A mind now clouded by the illusions of the innate darkness of life is like a tarnished mirror, but when polished, it is sure to become like a clear mirror, reflecting the essential nature of phenomena and the true aspect of reality. Arouse deep faith, and diligently polish your mirror day and night. How should you polish it? Only by chanting Nam-myoho-renge-kyo."

--Nichiren, On Attaining Buddhahood in This Lifetime

Performing the Drama of Life

One cannot become a starring player in life if one is easily swayed by one's emotions over every little thing. Strength of character lies in performing the drama of life with courage and confidence, practicing self-reflection and self-control under any circumstances.

-Daisaku Ikeda

The good news is that it's not very cold this morning - a welcome change.  I've been for a walk - am running late - and sent Dennis off to his business breakfast.

The bad news is his computer would not start up - the very last thing we can afford right now is to lose his computer OR buy a new one.  I suspect we might have to go to Harvey Norman or Noel Leeming just to get us through to better days. I have managed to get it going now  - huge sigh of relief.  To be honest - a few less dramas would go a long way to making me feel better!

I've got chops on browning while I sort the kids out for breakfast and lunches.  They'll get turned into mutton and barley broth for dinner tonight - the chops not the kids...

Josh was interviewed yesterday for the Howick and Pakuranga Times (www.times.co.nz)It's his first interview and I'm very proud of him - even if I don't have a huge connection to 'melodic death core' music.

Coddled Eggs from a Cuddled Duck

This ran as my editorial in Rural Living last month.  I love our ducks and the whole egg laying thing has caused much hilarity around the Beachhouse - mostly because Wobbles appears to be the Over Achiever Poster Duck when it comes to egg laying.  Usually they come to meet me when I get home but when I drove home tonight the ducks were barely visible in the grass and were clearly happy snuggled together as they didn't move. For the rest of last month's issue go to www.ruralliving.co.nz 

Wobbles, our white Indian Runner Duck, is laying eggs. We’re pretty sure Wobbles (yes there is a reason for her name) is a girl and Scooter is a boy – if for no other reason than the amorous goings on beside the dog bucket of recent times. 

It is possible I suppose that Scooter is a girl as well but I’m pretty sure he’s not – but I digress. 

I recently packed my family off for the weekend with the intent of giving the house a ceiling to floor scrub before winter settled in. 

As I sat on the balcony on the Saturday morning sipping tea and enjoying the morning sun I spotted something white in the middle of the lawn and caught my breath.  Could it be?  Finally?  I raced down to find it was indeed a duck egg – and what’s more a few feet further on was a second one. 

I phoned The Man of The House (who I might add seemed very unimpressed for someone who has been so bothered by the lack of duck eggs) and told him it looked almost as if she had been taken by surprise. 

I had no idea how right I was.  We had another two or three eggs the following week.  Unlike the Henny Penny gang who neatly lay their eggs in their nesting box and announce each arrival with a raucous cackling – Wobbles just well lays them without fanfare.  No quacking, no nesting.  Just ‘oops here comes an egg’ and off she wobbles (the reason for her name). 

One morning we caught her coming out from under a pile of branches that had been stacked for removal and were amazed to find four eggs.  She was most interested in our interest in her little stash and I felt quite guilty as I stole them away to the egg tray in the kitchen. 

I took her back a treat and told her what a clever girl she was, while making a mental note to check all possible nesting spots every day before we found ourselves with an entire colony of Indian Runners. I personally wouldn’t mind, but TMOTH and the Slobradors might object. 

The next day only one egg was to be found.  It was however laid on the doorstep – which very nearly gave ‘early morning omelette’ a whole new meaning.   For the next few days we would find one or two eggs in various spots around the section – and it was a race to find them before the Slobradors. 

Then we found her once again leaving a nest in the front garden in which were four eggs. She was again very interested in our removal of the eggs and was waiting for me when I returned downstairs – and I’m sure the quack she greeted me with translated into “oi, where’s the bread I got last time?”  

A few days later, after having collected two eggs from the front lawn, Wobbles was enjoying a cuddle with Miss 8 when a most surprising thing occurred. She laid an egg.  Wobbles, not Miss 8. It was laid from a bit of a height and didn’t have a proper shell so we think she must have been caught a bit unawares – confirming my suspicion of the first eggs taking her by surprise. 

Which was nothing compared to the surprise of Miss 8 who has since been somewhat wary of cuddling ducks. However, it was at that point that I started wondering if in fact Wobbles was laying more than one egg a day – but throughout the day rather than all at the same nesting time. 

In fact, we have found, that is exactly what she is, and we are getting from two to four eggs from her most days of the week.  All of which makes the Henny Penny Gang’s efforts of one each seem somewhat meagre.  Omelette anyone?

A Touch Up and A Little Paint!

So you've been broken and you've been hurt
Show me somebody who ain't
Yeah, I know I ain't nobody's bargain
But, hell, a little touchup
and a little paint...
You might need somethin' to hold on to
When all the answers, they don't amount to much
Somebody that you could just to talk to
And a little of that Human Touch

 - Bruce Springsteen

A little touch up and a little paint - yeah that's me!

I will say this for belly dancing - it warms you up.  We learned a step called The Camel - which is sort of an undulating pelvic thrust type of step.  Sue and I already had the giggles when Andrea (the instructor) stopped in front of me with a somewhat astonished look on her face "you are doing a really difficult move you shouldn't be able to do yet - a reverse camel"  Somehow that didn't suprise either Sue or me!  It would figure that I would be the one in the class to shimmy backwards!  Sue, around her giggles, tried to help by telling me the move was "just like having sex - you should be good at that."  By now the entire class was in fits of laughter because try as I might - and even with that (un)helpful tip from Sue - I could not get that camel to go the right way which led me to wondering out loud if the camel step wasn't the only thing I had been doing backwards for years.....

Home to a house of happy, warm children - all of whom thought it was hilarious to watch mama do the backward camel.

Dennis is going to a job interview tomorrow and to a business breakfast  - so it will be a case of being up early and doing gongyo so he can start his day based on faith not fear, and then I will get the kids off to school.  If he goes back to an office job we'll have to sort something with the kids after school but I'll cross that bridge when and if we come to it. 

I decided at work today to see if I can launch an e-zine.  I have always wanted my own magazine and starting up a paperless one seems a more sensible idea than launching into a print version in the current climate. 

I suppose at some point I should try and get some sort of theme and direction to this blog rather than just putting down what springs to mind - but it's a bit like childcare - I'll cross the bridge when and if....

Leap of Faith

All over the world the rain was pourin'
I was scratchin' where it itched
Oh heartbreak and despair got nothing but boring
So I grabbed you baby like a wild pitch

 - Bruce Springsteen

It was raining the day we moved in to the Beachhouse.  Some days it feels as though it hasn't stopped raining.  Especially the days when a wet cat or dog choses your spot on the sofa to dry off and warm up.  Or days like today when you wake up to heavy rain and the thought of the water tank filling up is quickly followed by a silent prayer for the roof to stay on.  Something tells me the water tank would be the least of my worries if that corner of the roof finally carries out its threat and parts company with the rest of the house.  

The alarm went off at 5.30 but even Dennis wasn't budging this morning - snuggling an extra five minutes under the covers against feeding the ducks in icy rain was a no brainer.  Laying there dozing eventually led us to finding another activity to warm ourselves up with.  The heating benefits of love making in my opinion are highly under rated!

Heaters were hurriedly clicked on and emails checked while we waited for the jug to boil for tea and the poaching pan to heat.  I'm so grateful for the ducks and chickens and the steady supply of eggs.   Dennis bought chocolate powder yesterday and I was able to make hot chocolate for the kids - another thing to be grateful for. At least everyone started the day with a warm tummy!  

Dennis applied for another job today - if he can get another client on board or can get a salaried job and do quotes in the evenings at least our income will be steadier and more secure.  He's withdrawn today, despite the early morning romp, and I know it's because he's worried.  He's not used to challenges or struggles in such constant progression and it must seem as though life is, as they say, one long painful austerity.  But Buddhism teaches that even places that have been shrouded in darkness for billions of years can be illuminated. The sun will definitely rise. In fact, its ascent has already begun.  For Dennis that is hard to believe but I know deep in my heart it is true.  

I'm running late for gongyo and haven't made the lunches yet - around me the house is quiet, as if the cold morning has sapped everyone's energy for once.  Even the labradors and the ducks are calm.  

The frangipani buds that set before the cold snap hit are still there - each day I check them and come away with a smile.  

We're struggling to juggle the mortgage payment this week - but I refuse to be defeated.  Tonight I have belly dancing classes and after that I shall come home and plant some seeds to grow in the kitchen over the winter.  There is a saying that the earth upon which we fall is the same ground which enables us to push ourselves up again. There's another which maintains that barley grows better after it has been trampled on. Human relationships are sometimes painful, but there is no such pain from which we cannot recover. It is up to us to decide to live a life free from self-doubt and despair in spite of our failures. Indeed, it is during our most humbling moments that we should show greatest poise and grace. Then the dignity of our lives will truly shine.

 

 

The Place Where You Are Now Is Vital

"The place where you are now is vital. Never avoid what you must face. Challenge your circumstances and steadily persevere. The path toward victory opens from where you stand."

 - Daisaku Ikeda

If autumn is anything to go by, winter at the Beachhouse is promising to be icy.  With money tight there has been none spare for firewood so we are dependent on the radiators - confining ourselves to ensuring they are on when the children are at home and digging out sweaters, beanies, and blankets.   The insulation is not great and most of the joinery needs repairing - all of which we knew  when we bought the Beachhouse- but we didn't know Den would lose a client or that the world would be turned on its head with the current recession. 

Now please don't get me wrong - I don't write that as a complaint - simply the acceptance that when we fell in love with the Beachhouse - things were different.  Not necessarily better - just different.  And if it's true that we all were hoping this was the beginning of better days - I suspect it's also true that each of us in their own way simply took it for granted that our hope would be realised.  I'm not sure any of us actually applied any faith, determination, prayer, or even action to even realising those hopes.   Each of us let their Buddhist activities dwindle to near non existant, and life became a monotonous repetition of daily grind.  Occassional bumps in the road served to remind us of what we weren't doing and eventually led us to realising we needed more in our lives.  

And as frustrating and as difficult as it may be -especially days like today when it is cold and there is little in the fridge -  this is the vital place  in which I find myself.   I must face that I am the leader in this little group and that I must set the pace.  If the path of victory opens from here it's time to take the first step.  

So for Dennis, Joshua, Elijah and Meg I would like to welcome you to the Beachhouse - a rambling old house by the beach filled with kids, dogs, cats, ducks, chickens, Buddhism, Bruce Springsteen, tears, laughter and above all love.  Wrap up warm and fill your cup - money may be tight but there's always soemthing hot to sip - and come on in.