Winter Blessings and Beauties, Day 77: Winter Scavenger Hunt

Here's a fun activity for a Winter day: a Scavenger Hunt! Issue a challenge - just to yourself or to a group of friends and/or family - make a list of selected items and go on a hunt for them. It's a great outdoor activity, but it works just as well indoors if the weather is unfavourable. Even in lockdown you could have a Scavenger Hunt in your home and then Skype or Zoom with friends and family to share your results. The great thing about it is that it really challenges your powers of observation and gets you noticing things in your environment that might otherwise go unheeded. It helps you think outside the box and encourages exploration and imagination. For example the photo above is a collage of images that I photographed this afternoon after I set myself a mini-Scavenger Hunt to find and photograph things representing all the colours of the rainbow. Some colours were more of a challenge than others in the Winter landscape, but I think the end result really challenges the idea that Winter is a drab and colourless season.

Winter Blessings and Beauties: Day 77

Winter Scavenger Hunt

There are different ways of doing a Scavenger Hunt. The classic version is to find and bring back with you a selection of objects. But you can also search for less tangible things like a colour or a sound. Or like me you could record your finds as photographs rather than bringing them home with you. Here are a few ideas of things to look for on your Scavenger Hunt:

• You could look for natural objects like a seedpod, a flower, a feather, an interesting pebble, something green, a fallen leaf, a snail shell - or look for specific species such as an oak tree, a robin, a snowdrop, a bramble. 
• Search for things to engage all your senses - something blue, something pretty, something that smells nice, something soft, something prickly, a bird singing, the sound of running water, something that tastes nice.
• Like me, look for things in all the colours of the rainbow - something red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet (you can add more colours to the list if you like!).
• Search for things which evoke a (positive) emotional response - something that makes me happy, something funny, something exciting, something which is my favourite colour, something that reminds me spring is coming, something I love to eat, something that reminds me of my friends, something silly etc.

Good hunting!

Winter Blessings and Beauties, Day 14: Winter Fun for Children and Your Inner Child

The trees have mostly lost their leaves to the recent winter storms, and I find the drifts of them irresistible to sift through. I search for choice beautiful specimens to bring home, like a child picking up shells on a beach. Today I was inspired by the different shapes to make some leaf rubbings, something I haven't done since my schooldays. Early winter is a good time to take leaf rubbings as there are plenty of fallen leaves to choose from, yet they are still fresh and pliable - later in the season they can become too dry, crumbly and fragile to use for leaf rubbings.  

If you would like to make your own leaf rubbings, choose freshly fallen leaves (or even pick some green ones from plants or wildflowers - I managed to get a good result from some Japanese anemone leaves from the garden). The best leaves to use are not too soft, with a clear shape and some prominent veins for texture (tip: often the veins stand out best on the back of the leaf rather than the front). Wax crayons work best, but you could also use coloured pencils, charcoal, or soft graphite pencils. Put the leaf on a hard, level surface such as a table top or a tray. Put a sheet of paper over the top, and then rub the crayon or pencil over the paper to reveal the shape and details of the leaf beneath - experiment to find the level of pressure that works best. Let your inner child have fun! Later you could cut out the leaf shapes and use them to decorate your home.

Winter Blessings and Beauties: Day 14

Winter Fun for Children and Your Inner Child

Remember all the fun things you used to do as a child during the winter? Share them with your children - or re-introduce them to your inner child! Have fun!

• Take leaf or bark rubbings
• Make a big pile of autumn leaves - and jump in it! Use the leaves to build forts, or labyrinths.
• Play Poohsticks
• If you're lucky enough to have snow - enjoy it! Make a snowman, have a snowball fight, make snow angels, write your name in the snow, make snowcastles (like sandcastles), catch a snowflake on your tongue, stand outside in falling snow and try to catch snowflakes on a dark-coloured background so you can see their six-sided crystal structure
• Put on your wellies - and jump in every puddle you see!
• Toast marshmallows round a fire
• Go tobogganing or ice skating

Celebrating Samhain - and Hallowe'en - in Lockdown

Note: To be clear, for the purposes of this post when I write about Hallowe'en, I mean the secular, spooky, fancy dress, witches-pumpkins-spiders-bats-ghosts-and-ghoulies fun and games which occurs on 31st October. When I write about Samhain, I'm referring to the Pagan festival which occurs on the same date but which marks the Pagan New Year, a time when the veils between the worlds thin and we honour our ancestors, celebrate the dark half of the year and practise divination etc (pumpkins optional).

As life began to return to something more closely resembling 'normality' over the summer I began to think there was no need for further posts on 'How to Celebrate [Festivals] in Lockdown'. For that reason there was no such post for the Autumn Equinox/Mabon. Yet it seems I was a bit premature in my optimism. Many areas of England are now in Category 3 Lockdown, and here in Wales the whole country is currently on a 17-day 'firebreak' lockdown which will cover the weeks either side of Samhain. It's not really surprising, given the British Government's woefully inept response to the Pandemic. So here we are again, and we are likely to find ourselves back here again in the future before this is all over. So let's take a look at some things we could do to celebrate Hallowe'en and Samhain - or both - even if we're restricted by lockdown measures.

Ideas for Celebrating Hallowe'en at Home

I have seen people complaining on social media that 'Hallowe'en is cancelled this year!'. I imagine they mean that children can't go trick or treating as they normally would, but Hallowe'en is about far more than trick or treating, even if that is the current cliché. You may not be able to go door-to-door trick or treating with the kids this year, but don't worry - there is still plenty of Hallowe'en fun to be had. Here are some ideas of Hallowe'en activities you can enjoy together, if you are in a lockdown area:

• Throw a Hallowe'en party for the family. Decorate the house with spooky things - you can keep the kids busy beforehand drawing and cutting out spiders, bats, ghosts, etc to hang up. Prepare some spooky food - cut sandwiches into ghost or skull shapes and decorate them, turn a pot of hummus into 'frog spawn' by adding a few drops of green food colouring, use icing to decorate chocolate cake, cookies or brownies with piped white 'spiderweb' icing - or make traditional fare like pumpkin soup and apple pie. Dim the lights, light a few candles and tell each other spooky stories. Or if that's too scary put on a DVD of a classic kids Hallowe'en movie like Hocus Pocus.
• One year I kept my friend's kids busy all day making a life-sized witch figure (a bit like a Bonfire Night Guy). We used a couple of old pairs of tights stuffed with newspaper for her arms, legs and head. A pillow-case stuffed with newspaper formed her body. Then we dressed her up in a fine witchy costume cobbled together from my black clothes and a pair of my boots. We made a mask for her face and a witch's hat out of black card. Then we sat her on the toilet in the downstairs cloakroom and had great fun listening to the shrieks of the unsuspecting adult members of the household as they returned from work and walked in on 'Winnie' unawares! 
• The whole family could have a fancy dress competition. Make sure you have enough prizes for everyone. You may need to invent a few categories like 'Best Witch', 'Best Monster', 'Cleverest Idea', 'Creepiest Mask' etc to ensure everyone wins something, but if you do it will ensure no squabbles erupt! If you can't be with extended family and friends, you could check in with them via Zoom or Skype and admire each others costumes to extend the fun.
• Have a ghost story writing competition and read them to each other by firelight. Smaller children could draw or paint pictures of pumpkins or black cats (or dinosaurs if they prefer!). Finish the evening with all the lights on and big comforting mugs of cocoa to settle everyone down before bedtime!
• Try some traditional Hallowe'en party games like apple bobbing.
• Make a special Hallowe'en playlist (suggestions to get you started: 'Thriller' by Michael Jackson, 'The Monster Mash' by Bobby 'Boris' Pickett and the Crypt Kickers, the theme song from The Addams Family, 'The Time Warp' from the Rocky Horror Show, 'Ghostbusters' by Ray Parker Jr) and have a Hallowe'en disco for the whole family. You could have themed dances too - 'Dance to this one like a zombie!' 'How would a witch/werewolf/mummy dance?'
• Carve pumpkins together (obviously younger children will need close supervision and probably a lot of help!). To get the most out of your pumpkin, don't forget to read this!

Ideas for celebrating Samhain in the countryside or at the beach/park

• The weather is less likely to be kind at this time of year, but if you can get out for a walk, it's a great opportunity to get in touch with nature at a time of year when there is much change to observe. What bird or animal species are in your area? Some species are going into hibernation, or growing a winter pelt or plumage. Some, such as deer, are in their breeding season. Plants are going to seed or dying back. Now is a good time to familiarise yourself with how trees look without their leaves. Many have distinctive shapes that make identification possible even when you only have bare branches to go by.
• Gather fallen leaves, twigs, nuts, seedpods, stones, flowers etc to make into a mandala as an offering to the Spirits of the Land - there's a great article about making and working with mandalas in nature here. Or take some home to decorate your altar and honour the trees as they prepare for their winter slumber.
• At the beach, write messages to your ancestors in the sand at the shoreline, and let the water carry them away as the incoming waves slowly dissolve the words.
• If you would like to forage some wild foods for a seasonal feast at this time of year, look out for apples, sloes and bullaces (wild plums), sweet chestnuts, hazelnuts, walnuts, or beechnuts.

Ideas for celebrating Samhain in your garden

• Create a shrine to your Ancestors in a corner of the garden (a spot in the west, direction of the setting sun and the Celtic otherworld would be most appropriate). This could be as simple as a cairn (pile of stones) with each stone representing a different Ancestor, or as elaborate as you care to make it. As the sun sets, use it as a focus point for a ritual to honour your Ancestors and Beloved Dead. Create sacred space in your preferred way, then light a tealight for each person you wish to honour and remember, saying "[their name], be welcome this night!" aloud as you do so. Spend as much time as you need with them, telling them what you want them to know and listening for any answers or messages. When you are finished, pour a libation to them. Then thank and bid farewell to each of them in turn, extinguishing their tealight as you do so. Devoke/open your sacred space.
• The second Full Moon of the month - making it a Blue Moon - falls on Samhain this year. This would be a great time to practise your scrying! Within sacred space, take a dark coloured bowl and half fill it with water. Under the light of the full moon, gaze into the bowl allowing your gaze to become soft. Breathe slowly and deeply, keeping your gaze soft and your mind receptive. After a little while you may see images in the water, or they may seem to form in your mind's eye. Don't try to control or force the images, just let them come. When you are ready, set down the bowl and write down what you have seen in your journal, in as much detail as possible. Devoke/open your sacred space.
• If you are able to have a bonfire in your garden, use it to celebrate the Pagan New Year. Gather fallen leaves and write on them with a marker pen the things that you wish to shed and leave behind in the old year. Feed them one at a time into the flames, to be transformed. Have a small dish of sunflower or pumpkin seeds ready. Eat a seed for each of the things you wish for in the coming year and state your intention to make them a reality (e.g. "I will enrol on the astrology course I want to do", "I will create a productive vegetable patch to help feed my family"). Say 'So Shall It Be' to seal your intention. Now celebrate - raise a glass of celebratory mead or mulled wine, toast marshmallows round the fire, sing songs.
• Keep an eye out for shooting stars if the night sky is clear, as the Southern Taurids Meteor Shower will be peaking towards the end of the month. Don't forget to make a wish if you see one!

Ideas for celebrating Samhain in your home

• Create an altar to honour your Ancestors and Beloved Dead. Place photos, mementos, family heirlooms etc on it and use it as a focus for communing with them at Samhain.
• Prepare a feast of the food most loved by your Ancestors and Beloved Dead, and sit down to share it with them. It may be a strange mixture of dishes (for example, my own Feast for the Ancestors typically includes custard tarts for my Granddad, Stilton cheese for my Grandpa, ice cream for my Nanna, grapes for my Gan (Gran), a cup of tea for my Cousin Enid and friend Ivy, and a saucer of tinned tuna for the cats who are no longer with us). Yet strangely, it brings back so many happy memories that it is delicious. While you eat, tell their stories (even if you are alone) and relive the sweet times you shared together. Any uneaten food at the end of the evening can be left overnight for the spirits and then placed outside as an offering to the local wildlife. 
• There are online Samhain rituals on 29th October here, or 30th October here, or you can join the famous annual Spiral Dance in San Francisco which is happening online on 31st October this year here. 
• Samhain is a wonderful time for divination. Use your preferred method, or try something different - tarot, runes, scrying, dowsing, tasseomancy, the I-Ching.  If you read the tarot, there is an excellent Samhain tarot spread here. If you have friends who also enjoy divination, you could swap readings for each other via the phone or online.

A magical and blessed Samhain to you all.  

Celebrating the Summer Solstice in Lockdown

The Summer Solstice, or Litha, this year falls on Saturday 20th June, (astronomically it varies between 20th and 22nd June). Although some restrictions are being relaxed, by and large we will still not be able to gather to celebrate, a fact I am happy to accept in order to keep people safe. But it does mean we'll need to be creative and adaptable in how we mark the occasion, just as we were at Beltane. Many of the suggestions I made in that post can be adapted for the Summer Solstice, but here are a few additional ideas too. As before I've grouped them depending on a variety of lockdown/isolation situations.

If you are able to get out to the countryside/beach/park

• One of the simplest and most memorable ways of celebrating the Summer Solstice is to go and watch the sunrise from an east-facing hill or a beach near your home. You can check sunrise times in the UK here, and there are other online resources that give the times for other parts of the world. There is something really magical about experiencing the world awake to a new day as the sky gradually lightens, the dawn chorus begins and the sun appears over the horizon. Take a small picnic breakfast to celebrate this special day, and don't forget to leave a small offering of food and pour out a little of your drink for the spirits of the place.
• If you are confident of your plant-identification skills you could take a walk and forage some wild plants for a Summer Solstice feast. Plants to look out for at this time of year include wild strawberries, chickweed, elderflowers, sea kale, fat hen, linden blossoms and honeysuckle flowers.
• If you can't travel to sacred sites such as Avebury or Stonehenge for the Solstice, do a little research to find sacred sites in your local area that you may be able to visit instead. Many of these smaller, less well-known sites have an amazing atmosphere and are all the more special for not being crowded with visitors.

If you have access to a garden or small green space

• It's a great time of year for roses, and if you have some in your garden take this opportunity to really appreciate their beauty and fragrance with a small ritual. Gather some petals - the more perfumed the better - and make yourself some rose petal tea. Remove the thicker white base of the petals (where they attach to the rest of the flower) as this can be bitter. Steep the petals in boiling water for a few minutes, then sweeten with a little honey if liked. Sit in the sun to drink your brew, inhaling the fragrant steam and feeling the warm sun on your skin. Let the warmth and fragrance spread through your body. Take a moment to imagine your heart as a rose in your chest, gradually unfurling its petals and opening to the sun. Raise the cup in your hands as a toast to the sun, the source of all light and energy. Feel yourself blessed. 
• If you have children, throw a special 'Sun Day' party for the family. Decorate the house and garden with sunny colours, get the children to make sun-themed art and get everyone to dress in sun-themed clothes (yellow, orange or gold coloured, sparkly, or their favourite summer clothes). Have a sunny foods feast - make yellow cupcakes, drink orange juice or home made lemonade, have a barbecue, eat ice cream, enjoy slices of watermelon... and later on as the sun sinks in the sky, share toasted marshmallows round a fire. 
• Make a small sun altar, if possible in the South corner of your garden. Here you can put sun-themed garden decorations, solar-powered lanterns and grow plants ruled by the sun - like sunflowers, marigolds, St John's wort, chamomile and rosemary.   

If you are confined to your home/can't get outside

• As has been widely reported, English Heritage have cancelled the sunrise celebrations at Stonehenge this year, but they will be livestreaming the sunrise at the stones on social media.
• Make a sun-catcher to hang in your window to honour the sun and send rainbows dancing across your walls. There's the story of one I made here to get you started. All you really need is some sparkly things - crystals, beads, sequins - and some wire and/or thread to hang them from. Just be careful not to use any convex glass pieces/balls/marbles etc which could focus the rays of the sun and potentially start a fire.
• Honey is already a very 'solar' substance, as it is concentrated nectar from flowers. Charge a jar with the power of the sun by placing it on a sunny windowsill for a day. Then use your sun-powered honey to give yourself a boost of sunshine by adding to recipes or in your tea on those days when you need a little extra lift.   

Happy Summer Solstice everyone! Stay safe and have a wonderful summer. 

The 'C' Word, Part 2: Three Weddings, and a Burial

Wedding Number One:
In the summer of 1985 I attended a wedding as the 'plus one' of a platonic male friend. At the reception afterwards, I was pleased to be asked to dance by the Best Man, whose blue eyes had caught my attention. We danced and talked and danced again, and I was happy when he asked for my phone number. To my delight, he rang a few days later and we went on our first date.

Wedding Number Two:
In 1991, reader - I married him!

Yes, I met T at the wedding of our friends Kevin and Ann, and six years later, Kevin was T's Best Man at our own wedding, in the little village church in which my parents had married. By then, Kevin and Ann had a three year old daughter and another on the way. Our friendship with Kevin and Ann was so close that they asked us to be guardians for Rachel, Charlotte and (in time) their younger brother, Michael, in the event that anything untoward should happen to the two of them. Until T and I moved to Wales in 2000 we spent virtually all our spare time together, like a big extended family (Kevin and Ann were originally moving here too, but ultimately decided to stay on Essex).

T and I were married for 17 years, and I thought we were pretty happy until he dropped a bombshell and left in 2008. Since that day, he and I have been in (mostly cordial) irregular contact, yet I had not met - nor wanted to meet, to be honest - his new wife, Sawittree.

So when I received an invitation to Rachel's wedding it brought up mixed feelings. Firstly of course, excitement and happiness at the wonderful news, and pleasure at the thought of sharing my beautiful Goddessdaughter's special day. But also... Sawittree would be there. Younger than me, slimmer than me. On T's arm. That brought up less pleasant emotions. Anxiety, insecurity, apprehension, and a lot of the grief and anger I thought I had processed and left behind by now.

Hmmm.

Luckily I had a few months to prepare myself - firstly by making careful plans to ensure I would be looking my best and hence feeling as confident as possible, and secondly by continuing to work through my feelings about T and Sawittree.

I'm not sure why or how it happened, but at some point before the wedding, I realised that actually, I don't care what T or Sawittree think about me or how they see me. I am now happy in my own skin, at peace with who I am, loved by and in love with IB. Perhaps enough time has elapsed, perhaps I have moved on, perhaps I am a different person. But something has shifted, healed and it is time to move on. And how symbolic that this closure manifested via the wedding of the eldest child of the couple whose own wedding was the starting point of my life with T? And what better symbol of 'new beginnings' than a wedding? The significance seemed staggering when I made the connections.  

Wedding Number Three:
Rachel's wedding was to be held in Maldon, Essex, so IB and I travelled up from Wales the night before and stayed with my sister and her husband in Kent. The weather was still searingly hot, and although we left in plenty of time in the morning, traffic snarls at the Dartford Crossing meant that we weren't as early as hoped by the time we'd arrived and parked the car. Walking through to the High Street, we arrived at the church with about 15 minutes to spare. But to my horror, it immediately became clear I had brought us to the wrong place - the church I had assumed the wedding was in is now a Heritage Centre and was buzzing with stalls selling arts, crafts and jam! Rifling through my bag in a panic I realised I had not brought the invitation. I asked one of the stallholders for help and she explained that there were two churches that the wedding could be in, either St Mary's or All Saint's - but they were at opposite ends of the High Street! This was now beginning to resemble a scene from 'Four Weddings and a Funeral', and my chances of arriving looking cool, calm and serene as I had hoped were fast melting away. I had the name 'St Mary's' in my mind for some reason so off we headed as fast as we could through the crowds of Saturday morning shoppers, me tottering in unaccustomed high heels. We finally arrived at the church to find no one outside and the door shut. Tiptoeing up, I opened the creaky old oak door as quietly as I could, expecting all eyes to turn on the latecomers... only to find the church completely empty. The wedding was, of course, at All Saints, at the other end of the High Street. 

At this point something in me stopped worrying and just decided to go with the flow. It was blazingly hot and humid, my feet were killing me and we had clearly missed any chance of arriving in time for the wedding. We sat in the church porch, while I changed into the flat sandals I had mercifully thought to stow in my bag and discussed our options. IB said to me, 'You are always running round after everyone, trying to keep everyone happy. Just let go of that, and accept things the way they are.' Which was true, helpful and a very liberating perspective all at once. We decided to walk - slowly - up to All Saint's Church, wait outside during the service and get some photos of the bride and groom when everyone emerged. I realised that though I may have missed the wedding service itself, all I really cared about was seeing my beautiful Goddessdaughter happy, enjoying her special day. But then as luck would have it, just as I'd changed back into my posh heels we spied some other latecomers at All Saint's Church and crept in behind them. Mercifully it was during a hymn and we slid quietly and gratefully into a vacant pew.

It was a truly lovely wedding with Rachel absolutely radiant in a gorgeous dress she had designed herself, and her new husband beaming and handsome. As we filed out at the end of the service, I spotted T and Sawittree shading themselves under a tree. IB and I walked over to say hello, and I was quite taken aback to be greeted by T as 'Darling', which I certainly wasn't expecting. That said, it made me think I couldn't be looking too bad for an old girl!

I took plenty of photos and then we made our way back to the car. We weren't expected at the wedding breakfast as the venue was small and the family party large, but we would be returning later for the evening reception. In the meantime IB and I went for lunch at what was one of my favourite pubs when I lived in the area, The Anchor at Runsell Green, Danbury. It was a beautiful summer's day and we sat outside the lovely old pub surrounded by flowers, enjoying a cooling breeze while we ate. Afterwards we took a meandering drive through my old memories, and I showed IB the church where Kevin & Ann married, the first house T & I lived in together, my paternal grandparents' house and the village my father had grown up in, the village where I went to school and finally the village where I grew up, Mountnessing. We also made an unscheduled stop at T's parents' house. I had always got on well with them, especially T's stepmother and although we'd spoken on the phone since T and I split, I hadn't seen them. By luck, they were in and we had a lovely though brief catch-up, and I was able to introduce IB to them.

At Mountnessing we had arranged to meet up with my Mum and Dad - who were in Essex visiting friends - at the home of an ex-neighbour. It was a little surreal as this meant we were in the house opposite my maternal grandparents' old house and diagonally opposite the house I'd grown up in (we had lived next door to my grandparents). Things became even more surreal when the people now living in what had once been my grandparents' house, invited us in to have a look round and see how the house looks these days. This was turning out to be more of a trip down memory lane than I had expected!

The house was at once familiar and not: some rooms had only changed a little, yet others - including a new extension - were completely different. It was not unpleasant though, as the family now living there are lovely and the house retains its warm atmosphere. Out in the garden there were also signs of time having moved on - plants and trees had grown or disappeared, new fences had been erected, and the patio and fishpond my grandfather had lovingly constructed is now showing its age and is in need of an overhaul! We also wandered down into the orchard next to the house - well, it used to be an apple orchard but now the apple trees and blackcurrant bushes of my childhood are all gone. But still there is the silver birch tree T and I planted when we buried the ashes of our son, Peter.

The tree now towers over me. Time has passed, and the sharpness of grief has dulled, yet it is still there. Suddenly all these ghosts of the past are too much, I am overwhelmed by it all and tears well irresistibly up. Luckily IB and my Mum are there to comfort me. I am held in loving arms and given time to cry, and breathe, and compose myself. More closure. We walk slowly back to the present together. Time to get ready for the wedding reception.

*****

The evening reception was as lovely as the wedding itself. The venue was superb. A live band played jazz and swing and people danced, young and old together. There was cake, and champagne, and pretty vintage china. The heat of the day abated as the evening drew on. I saw people I haven't seen in years and enjoyed catching up with them and seeing the amazing young adults their children have grown into. My parents and brother were there too. It was a very special occasion and I was so glad to have been a part of it. I was glad to have finally met Sawittree and put that particular anxiety aside. I was glad to reconnect with old friends. I was glad I saw Peter's tree, and both the continuity and changes in places I used to know so well. It felt like everything that was important to me from my years living in Essex had all come together, been revisited, acknowledged, and put properly away. Closure, writ large. Again.

And that was when the fiercely hot spell of weather finally broke. Thunder rumbled overhead and lightning flashed. But it all seemed part of the celebrations, Mother Nature's firework display. Deliciously cool rain fell onto warm pavement as we said farewell to the wedding party and made our way back to the car between showers.

I was exhausted. But so glad I'd come.

Mother's Day

The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and I can even hear fledglings peeping in their hedgerow nests. It's Mother's Day and later I will be taking along a card and gift for my Mum and having lunch with her and Dad, which I'm really looking forward to.

This morning as I was lying in bed listening to the radio I heard a request for a song to be played for 'All those mothers who no longer have their children with them'. This of course applies to many situations - mothers whose children are being raised by someone else (children adopted, fostered, or being raised by their father for example) - but I think the person making the request was thinking more specifically of mothers whose children have died. One doesn't of course, stop being a mother or feeling the emotions of a mother just through separation or bereavement.

For the first time this morning though, I realised that I too fall into that category. I have mentioned here before my unfulfilled desire for children of my own, but what I haven't written about is that I did bear a child.

He was longed for and the pregnancy - after many years of trying - seemed like a prayer finally answered. Unfortunately, complications developed during the pregnancy and Peter was stillborn.

Losing a child at any age is unbearable, but losing a child before he is born puts you in a strange kind of limbo. Many people seemed to think it was kinder just to brush over the whole episode - "least said, soonest mended" - but in my experience I would say being able to talk about Peter, being allowed to hold him and spend time with him after the birth and then being able to give him a proper funeral was what gave me peace and closure.

The strange kind of limbo comes in the years afterwards. Do I count myself as a mother or not? What do I say when people ask if I have children? I usually just say no and leave it at that. It's mostly too complicated and painful to explain. But occasionally when I say I have no children I see the immediate assumptions being made. Oh, career came first. Oh, doesn't like children. Oh, chose to live the life of Reilly without the inconvenience of kids. That stings, even worse when it comes with the slightly judgemental, 'Oh, didn't you want a family?'

I suppose what I am trying to say this morning is that Motherhood - and Fatherhood for that matter - comes in many shapes and sizes. Women have children, have miscarriages, have stillbirths, have abortions. Children are adopted, fostered, raised by other family members; are abducted, run away, die. Shit happens, and we don't always have a choice in how things turn out. And that doesn't stop us being parents, or experiencing the love and pain that that involves.

So next time you ask someone if they have children, please don't make assumptions based on a 'yes' or 'no' answer. The story is almost always more complicated than that!

Happy Mother Day to ALL the mothers out there. Including me.

Sunday on the Beach With James

This weekend, my brother, sister-in-law and 5-year old nephew, James, are staying with us. Today was a beautiful, crisp, cold, sunny winter day, so we went for a walk on our favourite beach.

James was fascinated by a big patch of ice on the sand. Yes, it was that cold last night!
















Further up the beach we came upon some charming 'beach art' left by some children who had signed their names in the sand underneath it.

I liked this 'wind-chime'-y one so much I may try replicating it in the garden.





























This was an enticing little shelter someone - probably the same group of children - had constructed in a nook in the cliff wall. It was 'thatched' with grass and had a driftwood seat inside and a stash of shells. Very tempting to sneak in for a nap.














James found his own piece of driftwood, which became a magic ray gun...













...and created his own beach art















What fun!

Confessions of a Fairy Goddessmother

One thing I always knew I wanted was to have children. Unfortunately, my body had other ideas and it wasn't to be. After 16 years of trying for a baby and now aged 44, barring a miracle it seems pretty unlikely that I will ever actually become a biological mother.

For many years my unfulfilled broodiness left me frustrated and depressed. Every menstruation brought a sense of failure and disappointment. I had my eyes so firmly set on the thing I wanted - a successful pregnancy - that it never occurred to me that there could be another outlet for my maternal instincts. Life, however, has a way of presenting new possibilities if you are only open to them.

I can't pinpoint exactly when my perspective changed - there wasn't a light bulb moment as such - but at some stage in the last 16 years, my childlessness became less of a source of pain to me. That fact is almost certainly due to our beloved friends, Kevin and Ann, who have generously allowed us to form a close bond with their three wonderful children. We have been around, babysitting and doing the aunt & uncle thing since their first daughter, Rachel, was born. When their second daughter, Charlotte, was a toddler, I had given up my stressful job (in an attempt to increase my chances of getting pregnant), so I spent a lot of time looking after her while Ann was at work. And then I did the same with their son, Michael.

We became extended family and spent virtually all our spare time together. I started using the term 'heart family' to describe our relationship to each other. We have watched with awe, pride, joy - and at times anxiety! - as Rachel, Charlotte & Michael have grown into amazing individuals. We have shared in the tears, the laughter, the scraped knees, the food fads, the treasure hunts, the birthday parties, the bad dreams, the endless questions (why?), the hilarity of water fights, the magic of Christmas, the walks to the park, the bedtime stories, the games of hide and seek, and of late, the teenage hormones, exam jitters, first romances, and initial steps into independence and adulthood.

Through all this we have been in the unique and privileged position of part-parent, part-friend, part-confidante... but it has been hard to define our relationship to the children using existing terminology. We aren't blood relations, so we aren't really an aunt and uncle. Kevin & Ann have asked us to be listed in their will as guardians of the children, in the event that something should happen to the two of them. But unless that should happen - and I pray that it won't - we aren't the children's guardians. We aren't Godparents, as we aren't Christians and have never been asked to fulfill that role. And yet we do and don't meet some of the criteria for each of the above categories. As there really doesn't seem to be a widely-used term for the nature of our relationship, I have started to describe myself as their Goddessmother. It kind of fits and I like it.

Although we now live miles apart, Rachel is currently at university nearby, and this weekend Ann brought her back to Wales to start her second year at Uni. It was so lovely to spend the weekend together, and we effortlessly slipped back into the easy friendship between us, even though we don't see each other so often these days.

Somehow, despite my inability to bear a child, I've been lucky enough to find a way to express my maternal instincts. I'm blessed to share in the lives of three wonderful young people, and I hope I can be there for them whenever they need me. Life has a way of presenting new possibilities indeed. I'm just glad I looked up from the path I was on long enough to notice. And I'm so lucky to have friends generous enough to open up those possibilities in the first place.