The Scent of Blackcurrant Leaves

Warm sun on my back, I brush aside the leaves to find the hidden treasure. Hanging in shining black clusters, the big juicy sweet/tart berries soon fill my basket.

As the distinctive, tangy scent of blackcurrant leaves fills my nostrils, I have my own Proustian moment. I am transported back to my childhood, picking blackcurrants in my grandparent's orchard. For me it is the quintessential summer memory. In amongst the currant bushes, gobbling down most of what I pick as the sun shines and Nanna, Mum, my siblings and I chat companionably, picking, picking, picking. The currants will be turned into pies, puddings, jams and some will be frozen so we can enjoy the taste of summer even during the darkest of winter days.

This summer, my own neglected blackcurrant bushes are sprawling in all directions, overgrown with brambles, bracken, nettles and bindweed. Yet still they give abundantly, and we shall have jam and wine and currants in the freezer to enjoy for the rest of the year. My hands are scratched by brambles and my legs are stung by nettles, my shoulders turn red from the sun. Yet still I keep picking, just a few more, just a few more... and still there are enough for me, and the birds to enjoy.

Eventually the basket is full and I extricate myself from the thicket, thanking and blessing the bushes for their bounty. I make a mental note to give them a good pruning in the autumn, and tidy up all the brambles and other weeds that have grown up around them.

Wonderful, luxuriant blackcurrants that give so generously despite my neglect. Wonderful memories of childhood summers. Wonderful sunny afternoon of harvesting.

The Fifth Sacred Thing - The Movie

I have long loved Starhawk's book 'The Fifth Sacred Thing'. And now I am so excited to hear there are plans afoot to make it into a film!

If you also love the book, you can keep up to date with the plans via Starhawk's blog, or on Facebook. And if you haven't read the book yet, I recommend it, especially as we seem to be moving closer to the world she envisions in it...

P.S. You can now make a donation (as big or small as you like) to help fund the film here.

Weird Stuff in Carmarthen

I have written before that Carmarthen (my nearest town) is a quirky little town. When I saw some coracle fishermen on the River Towy yesterday, I thought perhaps it was time to post some photographic evidence of Carmarthen's unique features. So although I wasn't quick enough to photograph the coracles, here are some pictures of some of Carmarthen's quirkier landmarks.

This is 'The Big Hat' a version of which has hung in Carmarthen's Lammas Street since the 19th Century. This is its latest incarnation. The story of The Big Hat may be found here.

Carmarthen obviously has a thing for attaching random large objects to buildings, because there is also a Big Coffee Pot in Guildhall Square...

I find some of the graffitti to be quite creative (if odd)! Unless it's been painted over/scrubbed off, this can be found between Nott Square and Guildhall Square.

Nott Square is home to a statue of its namesake, General William Nott, as well as the entrance to Carmarthen castle.

At the other end of Nott Square, standing outside the 'Nomads' shop you will find George the giraffe, who became a local cause celebre when the local council tried to ban him for Health & Safety reasons. There was such an outcry that George was reinstated to his rightful place and is now safely chained to the front of the shop, in a compromise that satisfies both the over-anxious council and Carmarthen's giraffe lovers.

The King Morgan pharmacy at the top of King Street has been established for many, many years, and still displays antique pharmacy bottles & jars in its windows. The stained glass door, tiled floor and old wooden cabinets inside make you feel like you've stepped back in time. There is now a bridge leading from the railway station, across the River Towy to the town (Blue Street) that is named after the King Morgan family, who served the medical needs of the townspeople for many years.

This is the tower of St Peters church, the subject of a rather odd prophecy that I mentioned in my previous post about Carmarthen...

And here's a statue of Merlin himself, gracing the newly-named Merlin's Walk (formerly Greyfriars). Rather appropriately it's carved from a huge chunk of oak. I like it, though it caused a bit of consternation amongst some that a good Christian placename (Greyfriars) was being replaced with one with Pagan associations! Which just proves you can't please everyone. There's lots of details here about Merlin's long association with Carmarthen. I reckon he preceded the grey friars in their medieval monastery anyway!

There are other sights like the Roman Amphitheatre and Merlin's Hill that I haven't got around to photographing yet - look out for 'Weird Stuff in Carmarthen II' some time in the future!

Falling In Love Again

A favourite cushion with an old vintage mirror that belonged to my Nanna

How quickly time passes. Only three years ago, I was still married - and oblivious to any hint of trouble. Now I have been divorced for over a year and a half, and my life is so different.

I am still at Halfway Up A Hill though, which when T first left, I never expected. I thought we would have to sell up and split the proceeds. Then, when we agreed that I could keep the house as part of the divorce settlement, I fully expected to sell up and move on anyway. Too many memories here.

Funny how things turn out, isn't it? With the collapse of the housing market, I resigned myself to staying put and just redecorating and smartening the place up for a couple of years until the economy picked up and I could sell. But over the past couple of years, I have started to see this familiar house with new eyes. By slowly, but surely putting my own mark on things, I have begun to fall in love with the place again. The painful memories are gradually being erased with each fresh coat of paint.

A handpainted dresser top that was picked up for a few pounds at a car boot sale. Along with some of my china and knick-knacks! Most of the china was passed down by my grandparents.

T's taste was fairly conventional and minimalist. Mine is more hippy-witchy-shabbychic-vintage-bohemian; definitely not minimalist. Now I am free to indulge those preferences without restraint! The interior - and exterior - of the house is beginning to reflect my tastes and personality as it never did before.

The lawn - once so carefully tended by T each weekend - has been declared a wildflower meadow. I prefer the look of all those flowers, and life is too short to spend it mowing! The overgrown flowerbed by the kitchen door has been tidied and planted up with roses, hardy geraniums and fuschia, and is now thronging with happy, busy bees. Pots of flourishing geraniums and herbs surround the back door with colour and fragrance. Suncatchers and windchimes dangle from every window, paintings and vases and lanterns and plants, new cushions and throws decorate the rooms. I have fun creating seasonal altars around the house and garden.

I LOVE my pantry door, which was made to measure by my very talented friend, Harry.

IB loves this house, and I am starting to love it once again. This weekend we have put up some wall cupboards that I have painted with a distressed finish in my favourite colours. In the dining room hearth, a 'new' (secondhand!) woodburning stove is waiting to be installed in readiness for next winter. I am planning to add a porch to the back door, and a forest garden down the hill...

The new woodburning stove, waiting to be 'plumbed in'.

I thought there were too many memories here for me to stay. But would they really have dispersed just by moving location? The memories are a part of me, a part of my story. The trick, I am beginning to learn, is to hold on to the best of the past, and let go of the grief and the anger. And in the meantime, go on, creating new memories as you fall in love with life once again.

Says it all.

  

Bread and Jam

I have been extremely busy of late, as my lack of posts will testify. In the absence of a proper full-time job I have been taking on work as a domestic cleaner/gardener/odd job woman, and the last couple of weeks have been hectic as on top of my 'regulars' I have picked up a lot of one-off jobs as people want their homes spring cleaned or their gardens spruced up for the summer. I also continue to make and sell crafts, and last week every spare moment that I wasn't scrubbing bathrooms or trimming hedges I was frantically finishing off craft projects ready for the local Spring Fayre at which I had taken a stall, hoping to make a bit of extra cash.

By Saturday morning I was tired but well prepared, with everything neatly wrapped in newspaper and packed into boxes. As well as lots of hand-decorated candle jars, I had some pretty painted birdboxes, lacy-knit mohair shawls and I had planted up violas and busy lizzies into some old vintage tea cups that had lost their saucers and were about to be chucked by one of my house-cleaning clients until I rescued them. I was pretty pleased with my efforts and had high hopes things would sell well.

IB had kindly offered to come along and help me and we arrived in good time and set up the stall, which I was pleased to see faced the entrance so that my goodies would be the first thing people saw on entering. A very kind gentleman went back to his nearby home to get a few coathangers for me so that I could display my shawls to their best advantage.

Once the stall was prepared, I took a walk around to check out the other stalls, and chatted with my friend Jen and another friend I hadn't seen for a while. I bought a pretty hand-made birthday card for an upcoming birthday, a beautiful hardy geranium at a bargain price, and some tombola tickets (which unfortunately didn't win anything!). Then just before the doors opened to the public I grabbed us two cups of coffee from the friendly lady who was selling refreshments.

The first person to walk in was one of my neighbours, and we had a lovely chat catching up on the neighbourhood gossip. She was catching the bus home, so when she bought a large scented geranium plant I offered to mind it for her and drop it off when IB & I drove past her house on the way home later. My Mum and Dad also dropped by with a friend and were very pleased with some bargain tomato plants they snapped up - and I was pleased when their friend was my first customer, buying one of my candle jars as a gift for her daughter.

So far people were admiring my goodies but I had only made the one sale. Even so, I had been eyeing up the home made cakes and preserves on the next stall, so soon spent some of my earnings on a jar of marmalade and a yummy-looking lemon drizzle cake. The rest went on some vegetable plants from another neighbouring stall!

People were still coming in thick and fast and I was enjoying chatting with friends from the village that I hadn't seen for a while. One stall was selling locally made cheeses at bargain prices and the tasting samples were proving very popular! Once IB and I had tasted too, we realised why and of course had to buy some of the cheese. I also bagged a bargain photo frame which I spied across the hall on the bring and buy stall.

After the initial rush of people, it quietened down, although people were still coming and going. We had another cup of coffee and a cupcake, and chatted with the other stall holders. Once things had really quietened down, the lady running the tombola was keen to finish up, and went around the hall giving tickets away to anyone who wanted one, just to clear the remaining prizes. We won a bottle of bitter lemon and a very nice gift set of M&S toiletries - but not the bottle of whisky that IB had his eye on, which was eventually won by the vicar's 6 year old daughter (her Daddy took immediate custody of it)!

In the end, I sold only one other candle jar, which meant with all my purchases overall I was well out of pocket (despite not having to pay for the stall).

My hopes to sell plenty of things and make some money had been dashed. But then again, was it so bad? I spent an enjoyable day with IB, chatting with friends and meeting some lovely new people. I came away with some real bargains and treats - plants, gourmet cheese, marmalade and cake - and once again felt myself connected to my local community. So - not what I had expected, but perhaps what I needed.

Sometimes, we are so focussed on the daily bread and butter of making a living, we miss the jam - the quality time we spend with friends and family. We overlook the small pleasures of life like a beautiful flowering geranium or some tangy home-made marmalade. And we take for granted the immeasurable wealth of being part of a community.

Though I worry from day to day about my lack of income, today I am reminding myself that bread isn't everything. Without a little jam, it's pretty boring really.

Beltane Altar

Beltane Blessings to one and all!

Lessons From A Cherry Tree

From the bedroom window I can see petals falling. With every shifting breeze, a gentle shower of shell-pink confetti rains down. How gracefully the flowering cherry tree relinquishes her spring finery, a little at a time, like the slow ebbing of a tide.

No regret, no clinging on to past glory. No resentment, no cutting-off-your-nose-to-spite-your-face wholesale dumping. Just a gentle shedding, releasing what no longer serves easily, willingly, naturally, open-heartedly.

I know that only change is constant, yet in my own life how often do I cling to what is outmoded because it's familiar? How often do I hang on to possessions I no longer need 'because it may come in useful one day', or because Great Aunt Mabel gave it to me and I feel guilty for not actually wanting it?

Someone once told me that a leaf only falls in the autumn when the bud of next year's leaf has formed below, ready to unfurl in the spring when conditions are right.

Am I preventing new growth in my life by clinging onto the past?

May I be like the cherry tree. Able to sense the shifts and changes in my life and move on without regret.