hello, lovely lovely people.....so, being the archaic techno-dinosaur that I so obviously am - I have only just found all your wonderful comments. I have been trying to change my banner, and well, just about everything on this blog, when alongside my fiddling and meddling, I hit the comments button....ah, and there you were sweet friends. So thank you, thank you, for your solidarity and loveliness on what has been a slightly challenging day. Please bear with my utter incompetance, this blog will be the mama whitestuff of all things wonderful someday soon....believe it!! Big kisses to you all....

2009 - A Cake of Many Layers Part II

Now, where did I leave you? I think we were frolicking with badgers.....

Then came, FINALLY, some summer loveliness and sunshine, while we were in Norfolk for our annual jamboree with the Earlands - oh, SUN, I love yoooooooo.....

Autumn got kinda scary....as we caved in to the third teenager of our family - a party was followed by the obligatory "I want my room painted purple and black", as a treacherously weak "Ok sweetheart, that could be cool" slipped from my sad 41 year old lips.

Summers soft sweet smelling blooms came and went too quickly for me to linger over them for long, giving way to late Autumn woolleyness, with walks, toast and warm things...

2009 - a cake of many layers...part I

I realise with shame, that I am now contemplating another birthday for my mother, so it must be nearly a year that I have put pen to paper, finger to keyboard. After the big cake excitement (fiasco) came an joint exhibition at the Star Anise Cafe in Stroud - a very funky little place with pastries way too delicious to be good for you. Early summer kick started me into potion making mode, and salad sprouted in the garden alongside other wondrous things....

Midsummer was a bit of a bummer - the usual rainy deluge - and on top of all that sogginess, our fire-souls were further challenged when our beloved Big Green Gathering was cancelled. In true Mama Soule spirit I whipped up some colourful bunting from some sad offerings in my knicker drawer and we hot footed over to Thistledown, a fab local nature reserve, to hold our own Little Green Gathering. This was complete with guitars, late night marshmallowing, and badger spotting. Hurrah.....
.

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......

.

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.

Small act of kindness

Tuesday morning, and a quick flick of the duster before work...and I was reminded of the sweetest thing that Holly did for me just over a year ago. I had had a terrible winter after my father died, leaving a huge, sad gap in all of our lives. At times I had really felt quite broken into pieces, as we all did. So when one day the "J" that stands for my name symbolically lept off the radiator and broke, I thought 'yup, that's completely how I am"

And that was when my sweet 11 year old daughter found the nicest piece of satin ribbon in the cuboard, and painstakingly mended me all up, with cellotape and a hug. And thats how I have remained ever since. I will get the glue out and make a more permanent repair job at some point; but the power of a small act of kindness when I needed it most, will keep me going for a long time yet.

Love what you love

This is a little stitchy piece I made for Lindsay's 60th - it has one of my favourite quotes on it from a poem called Wild Geese by Mary Oliver:

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles, through the desert, repenting
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.

And so the soft animal of my body, on a Sunday, loved what it loved today with a hot, steamy bath -


followed by a snowy walk to a favourite pub - the Albert, in Rodborough. Mmmmm.

Inside or Outside - which is more delicious?

Outside or inside?? It was a close call today....we did both, but inside won!

Reclaiming playtime

We have been very naughty today.....after a night of a few swirly snowflakes, I looked out the window and decided there was JUST enough to roll in, just, so thats exactly what we have been doing. With our changing climate, snow really is a big adventure for my children, and a rare beast not to be missed, so we sneaked off school and work, and headed for our nearest hill.

I had been feeling a bit guilty about all the lessons they were missing today, until I remembered the joyfulness of playing, and how we so often forget to do it. And how we forget to honour it. We used to have such fun when they were younger: teaparties with tigers, jungle expeditions, bouncing to the moon and back. But then the big system of school claimed us and I felt that make believe world slip through my fingers.

But ah, snow. It's easy to imagine polar bears, and ice castles, heroic snowboarding missions. Well, it's easy for them, even in 3 inches of the stuff. And for me, those little pink faces glowing with the thrill of being out, when they should be in a classroom - priceless. I won't have a 10 and 12 year old forever....I am going to squeeze every, single last drop out....!!

Wool, snowflakes, song, community...

An afternoon of the most delicious food for my soul.....a gathering of friends including lots of small people, to celebrate Imbolc, to sing, make, talk, be.

As we sat in Kesty and Martin's roundhouse, having sang love songs to the earth, air, fire, water, and spirit within, the smallest of snowflakes started fluttering outside. It didn't really feel like we were ready to move out of our winter space, and welcome in Spring stirrings. As is so often the case with Imbolc. But beautiful words of our coming intentions were spoken into the fire, and the urge to move into a new cycle of growth and change felt strong. Oh, and the colourful and creative Brigit's crosses that we wove our wishes into - even the littlest of hands had fun.

We were even blessed to have our very own song written for the day, which we sang together... looking for snowflakes, snowdrops, seasons and cycles, and most of all the light returning.