What was I thinking??

I should have known better, really I should. And I also should have guessed that a sublime book on cakes from the library by Madam Muffin McPhee (or whatever her silly name was) was going to be trouble.
But no, in I leap - I can make a spectacular cake for my mother's 70th birthday tomorrow - how HARD can it be???? Ha.

Thank you to Annabel my guardian angel who responded to my wails at 2pm, as I was about to end my life with a kilo and a half of butter icing and a spatula.

So an unbelievable 8 hours later, and after a grillion hand made sugar flowers had nearly broken my spirit - it was finally done.

Hmmm. Don't look too closely. I may well be saved by the fact that it will be unveiled at her party after dark. Lighting can cover a multitude.
I guess this means I won't be asked to make Lesley and John's wedding cake this May........

Where did March go??

So this is my March diary.....

Much of my month has been spent literally running between jobs, as our Earth Pathways Diary 2010 kicks into action. A full and frantic time, spent placing artwork, writing, poetry, and photography into some sort of coherent and artistic order. Working with the most brilliant and brave of women. We go to print in May, so I am still right in the middle of this creative mania.

And the first wee buds of Spring....on my kitchen table, not needing to compete with the artwork.

Imbolc gently passes and gives way to that longed-for light, and air, and a feeling that a change is happening in the sleepy valley where I live.

A pilgrimmage to the Roccoco gardens in Painswick in the next valley to see the snowdrops bursting with shining whiteness......

and a retreat to our still blazing winter hearth, when those big winds whip back around, reminding me that frosts, snow and coldness can still happen in March.

and in the middle of deadlines, family birthdays and general chaos, the very best of escapes into the Forest....and away from the cabin fever of Stroud. Just one day, but long enough to breathe and remind myself that there is life beyond my little world that I have created for myself.

Melting, unfolding

Something I read: "What if there is no need to change, no need to try to transform yourself into someone who is more compassionate, more present, more loving or wise? How would this affect all the places in your life where you are endlessly trying to be better? What if the task is simply to unfold...."

During all that cold weather recently I watched this little piece of ice melting into a perfect heart on the skylight window in my kitchen. Unfolding, just being. And then again on Thursday evening, with some special women talking late into the night, uncurling that aching part of ourselves that is waiting, always yearning for a time to come when we will be happier, more whole, more us. But what if that time is now, that this is the most we will ever be? And that actually, we are enough? Maybe then I could truly breathe out, and be happy, in a gloriously imperfect, chaotic, me sort of way. It might well be the start of a very new and big adventure for us all.

Holding out for a hero

Half term week, and in celebration of my man, who has bravely trekked to the wilds of Norfolk to build the long awaited deck on our little caravan. In February. With no water, no heat, in a field next to a big North sea. What a hero.

Meanwhile I have been at home with the kids trying to work; failing. But in big appreciation of my central heating, hot showers, my computer, and lovely friends who keep me up till 3 in the morning with a sing-along Mama Mia and pudding. Men seem to come with a built in gene that enables them to do clever things like artic deck building; I'm sure I could pull something out the bag in the building department if really pushed. But the loveliness of home? Wild horses wouldn't drag me from it right now.

Daddy torment

This is daddy. If I was an American blogger I would call him Papa. But he's a bit too grungy rock god for that.

And this is the children's favourite sport. Daddy torment. Their experience in this is wide and well practised. He has been subjected to all manner of uglies, to shrieks and peals of malicious laughter from our four shared children. Poor man. I do love him, and admire his good nature and resignation in the face of cunning children.

Theo, the youngest, may not be cropping up in these photos, but you know, he can be the worst tormentor of all.

But his revenge is always absolute and final. This month it was blue soup. Really. And don't ask me how he did it, although I suspect there was some red cabbage somewhere in the vicinity of the kitchen at the time. I cannot put a picture up, it was far too disturbing. But believe me, the wimpering was loud at the table, and the daddy smile was wide.

Gwen

Thursday morning, and it is high time I got fit. Spurred on by my friend Sarah who is following the Guardian's get fit in 8 weeks programme, I decided I would try the Jaine Rose shorter version (get fit in 8 minutes, whilst eating chocolate and watching Johnny).

You see, in my mind I am Gwen Stefani in a little crop top. In reality I can now see that my bottom half looks like a pair of badgers trying to escape out of my trackie. But undeterred, I started a slow rolling sprint up Spider Lane and towards our local park, Daisy Bank. Ohmigod. I thought I was going to need resusitating. I think this is going to take a little more time and committment.

But on the way back, I started to feel good. I guess those endorphins were kicking in. Either that, or I really had died and was having an out of body experience. A week from now, if I repeat this little exercise, I can see I am going to have the zeal and tediousness of a reformed smoker. It could get addictive. I really could end up looking like Gwen. I will report back......

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First Flickr adventure

Wednesday, and in the spirit of ongoing work avoidance, I absentmindedly stumbled onto Flickr and realised that there are thousands, nay millions, of photos just ripe for the blogging. This means that I am not under so much pressure to leap around the house like a mad woman trying to get the next day's blog shot (my family are breathing out in major relief)

So this is the very first offering. I havn't quite got the hang of it yet, and didn't manage to credit the photo to it's owner (is there anyone out there who can give me a quick tutorial?? It will have to be in left-handed sieve brain speak....) And a rather apt offering I thought, as yet again, my naughty and wayward computer has reeled me in. Sigh.