Looking After Me

This week I got braces on my teeth. The most common thing I hear now is, “Your teeth look fine, why did you get them?” Well, sure, by many standards my teeth were “fine”. But not to me. I have always been able to see the issues: slight overbite, some teeth near the front are slanting inwards (a problem which has been growing worse every year past the age of 40!), my bottom teeth are crookedly all over the place and always have been. 

I don’t need to get veneers or caps to have a giant, uber-white Hollywood smile. No, that is not my aim at all. This is just part of the process of looking after me. Finding myself again post-divorce, and as I glide along in my 40’s, focusing on my confidence and aging gracefully, with as many subtle tweaks possible to become the best me I can be. The me that makes ME happy and retain my sparkle.

I am always working hard on my inner growth, which is an endless process that just gets better and better as I listen and learn. But I also strive to take care of the outer growth too.

Some people in my life have labelled me vain and far too into myself but thankfully I don’t share that opinion. Yes, I am really into my appearance but I like to feel it is a healthy level of vanity. I don’t need to wear make up every day or do anything special with my hair, especially if I am doing something which involves putting my children first.

However, it is a very good example for the children to see me have pride in my appearance and even if I’m not always dressed up or preened to glamorous standards, it is still important for the children to realize you need to be clean and tidy and well-presented daily. Even on “in the house PJ days”, the routine of teeth, hair and getting washed up, are essential elements to adhere to and I have always been most strict about it.

Looking good goes hand in hand with feeling good though. Inner happiness is essential and I started the journey to find it long before I researched bigger projects like braces. Taking care of my skin and my hair is important to me too. Many people ask me what it is that I do or what products I use and I am happy to share. 

I have used organic products for over 10 years now and feel it has made a huge difference. I get my hair coloured every 6 weeks (because when it comes to hair, the vanity wins out over having any greys!!) and as well as organic shampoo and conditioner (currently into the Milkshake line), I also use Argan oil daily and some gorgeous leave-in conditioning treatments. I only wash and condition every 3 days because my hair is really long and I don’t like to overdo it. It feels best on day 2. 

As for my skin, well on my face currently I am loving the new all-natural Cornish Skin Food, made locally from fresh ingredients which blow the roof off my former organic skin care line Eminence.  My skin loves these products and I often let the masks harden on my face while doing housework or other chores. The moisturizers are divine lushness and leave my face baby soft. At night I always coat my face in organic, extra virgin coconut oil with extra on my neck, to keep it firm.  If I am in the sun on a day when I haven’t got any make-up on, I brush on a mineral powder with 30SPF by Eminence.  And I always have a tube of lipstick, gloss or just lip balm with me at all times! For the rest of my skin, I just use coconut oil all over, with extra attention paid to my hands and feet. Age shows on our hands and feet even when we are cleverly hiding it on our faces.

When I entered my 40’s I began to notice lines on my face for the first time that I did not approve of. Character lines around my eyes are fine, but I draw the line (haha!) at anything on my face that causes sagging or droopiness. Like grey hairs, this is not ok for me and I discovered how to deal with these issues at a wonderful clinic with a doctor in charge. When it comes to administering needles, I will settle for nothing less than a doctor. I do not think anyone other than a medically trained individual should be permitted to do these procedures. Some people recoil in horror at the very sound of botox or fillers but the reality is that these things are as needed and as useful as hair dye or contact lenses, to those of us who want them.

But where is the limit? Where does personal vanity stop and self-improvement begin? I think this varies for everyone. None of us should judge each other for the choices we make for ourselves.

I have always said I would never do anything in the name of vanity that involved cutting or carving myself or using general anesthesia. But that’s MY personal limit. Other people will go there and that’s ok for them. Everyone knows what their own personal limit of self-improvement is. Some people don’t do anything at all and just flow along with nature. Which is also great. For them. But this is what is right for ME.

The Eve Of A New School Year

We have been home from our last outing of summer holidays for two days now and tomorrow morning it is time to be off to school again. There is a new reality for us now as we will be taking the bus to get to school instead of our former ten minute walk up the hill. This means there can be no lateness like our usual leaving the house to run up the hill a little faster, scooting in the school doors at 8:59am! Nooo, now we will be tied to a firm bus schedule that departs our farm lane at 8:25am sharp! And if we miss it, we will be waiting an hour for the next bus, making us very late for school. Anyone who knows me well, knows I am chronically late for everything, and when it comes to buses, usually running to catch them. But I am determined to do my best to always be on time for this bus and light a fire under the children every morning and spur them into action!
 

We have shared some fantastic family bonding time during our summer hiking holidays. It will be hard to relinquish my time with the children and give them over to school each day, but I think they are looking forward to returning to their friends and learning journeys and I am hoping to buckle down to more writing time and achieving some personal goals. I always love the start of something new and September is my favourite month of the year for new beginnings.

Ryder, my oldest, is starting Year 6, the highest year in the school. He is excited that his closest friend will be entering Year 4 which is in the same classroom, as it is a combination of 4, 5 and 6 together. This will be his leaving year before he moves onto secondary school and he has truly thrived in our little school which has been a wonderful leap coming from homeschooling. The school has been a perfect fit for him.

Frances is going into Year 3 and has a lovely, close-knit group of girls in her year that she has been with since mid-way through Year 1 when we arrived in the village. She is learning about how girls behave and how some are nicer than others and can clearly see who she wants to spend her time with but she also has the tact and behavior to integrate with everyone. She is really into her clothes and appearance though and has spent most of today precisely picking out exactly which uniform combination she wants to wear tomorrow, along with a chosen hairstyle and accessories. I can only imagine where this preening may lead when she is a teen!

Rowan, my baby, is moving into Year 1 and just talks eagerly about seeing his friends again and playing with all the toys in his classroom. I have reminded him that as a Year 1, he will be expected to do far more book work and less playing but he firmly asserts that he will be playing more than learning! That’s me told then…typical little Taurus boy, bulldozing his way forward! He had a lot of problems and issues settling into school last year and really only made progress in the last half of the year. But then again, he is only 5! I am not concerned, and just hope he can carve out his own niche that works best for him in school.

Our school is perfect for the children right now. As long as they are happy and content, I would never move them from it. But next year will be the hard year when Ryder goes off to secondary school, and I have many thoughts as to how we will deal with it if he doesn’t like it or it doesn’t work for him. But that is a bridge to cross when we get to it. For now, we just have to focus on enjoying this year at our little village school and all the wonderful memories that will be made.

Now to face the first hurdle before the morning dawns….getting everyone to bed at a decent and early time! Farewell to late summer nights. A new school year is beckoning to us all.

Starting Over...Again.

2014 has been a very interesting year so far for me. Full of fun, excitement and friends…but also of more life changes and personal realities about those friends.
 

I have been a UK resident for almost two years now. And a citizen for 15 months. The children are well settled in our gorgeous little 3 room village school and I pledge my love and allegiance to our village by writing a weekly events and news column about it in our local paper.

But do I feel this is it? Home at last? Where I want to live for the rest of my life? Probably not. It is very close though. And will definitely be home for a very long time to come. The children are having a lovely childhood here in their tiny school of only 70 students, and with the beach at our doorstep in such a peaceful place is everything I had hoped for them to be blessed with in life here.

However, with small villages also comes some small minds and a selection of discontented, gossipy people. 

I had not even considered this element to be a factor to my own happiness here as I felt so welcomed, embraced and befriended by some seemingly wonderful people. I was swept up in new friendships which blossomed quickly and it felt like we had been close our whole lives! Besides these close friends, I also have many positive parent-friends through school due to our children being friends and having playdates. Then there are also dozens of locals I speak to on a regular basis, sometimes to gather news for the paper, sometimes just for a hello and a chat.  Overall, life in my little village by the sea was pretty serene.

But then the serenity turned to strife. It all unfolded slowly and I almost didn’t see it coming, as caught up as I was in my bubble of happiness in my social circle.

I was also fairly distracted with another large life event. The house we had been renting since we arrived in the village in 2013, the sweet and perfect house overlooking the beach with an annex for my Mum, was now being taken away from us as the owners no longer wished to rent it. So my mind was constantly in motion and stress as I struggled to find us a new home. Not an easy task considering how few large house rentals are available in this area. 

So with my mind busy with the moving issues, I failed to notice that my friendship circle was shifting and not in a positive way towards me. I picked up on many subtle clues and things said that made me silently question the friendships, but I avoided confrontation due to 1.not wanting the good times to end and 2.being too consumed with my moving stress…which dragged on for more than 6 months!

As the weeks progressed, I started noticing catty comments thrown my way about my appearance, rumblings of jealousy and some real bitchiness, always disguised as mere “joking around”. I should have known from the amount of gossip these women talked about others that they likely also targeted me with their poisonous venom when I wasn’t around. In fact, I soon became completely sure of it.

Why did these “friends” change towards me? Maybe because I stand out. I am a loud and large personality. I jump up and sing on stage with bands in the local pub, making a “show” of myself. I flirt with young 20-ish year old boys even though I am 44 because I have the self confidence to do so. They lack this confidence and so instead of cheering me on, as true friends would, they tore me apart over it, and tried to bring me down and strip away my inner goddess. 

I think these women liked the thought of who I am but when faced with my strength and personality up close and on a regular basis, they hated me for having what they did not. And I am someone who would only seek to encourage those who didn’t have it, to be an uplifting supporter rallying to help my friends achieve whatever they wanted to do or become….that is who I am. 

But none of that matters if the people you are trying to cheer on and support are so bitter, angry and discontent within themselves that all they can give out is disrespect, gossip and scorn. These so-called friendships had no place to go but down as they became increasingly annoyed by who I am and the happiness and joy I strive to radiate and sparkle with. 

It hurt when it all ended, right on my moving day and on into the following week while I was away on holiday with the children. Everything came to a head during such a busy, stressful time for me. A huge implosion, where all of my fears and doubts about these people were proven correct and the fall out that scattered forth from the blast, left miles of debris which is still strewn all around me. This won’t be easy to overcome.

But overcome it I will. 

As I create a new home within this wonderful house we were so lucky to find, and start over here, I am also starting over here without friends. I am grateful to have many people here who are amicable and friendly to me, but I will really miss the social circle I had created with these “girlfriends” and the fun times we shared.

However, I believe there will be more good times to come and a new and better social circle, one that is free from gossip or speaking in a mean spirited way about others. I want to find people who don’t bash their neighbours or say cruel and mean words about another mum from school and then speak to her with a smile on the playground. I don’t want to be around mean or shallow people. I want to be around my type of people. People who say loving words, kind words, and find positive points to say about people they are discussing instead of hurtful gossip. 

I want to be around other women who have the self confidence to tell me I look beautiful and amazing as I do to them. I want to be around people who are not embarrassed by me “showing off” or standing out in my creative or musical aspects. I want encouragement and cheerleading, not cattiness or put-downs.

And if I have to be alone until I find that, then so be it. I am comfortable being alone. I am very social and love fun camaraderie, but I am equally as content singing to my mirror into a hairbrush or having lunch in a café on my own reading a good book. 

Starting over in a new house, a few miles away from my beloved village, is hard work. But starting over in my social life here is even harder work.

But I will do it, and it will be great. It all happens for a reason, and I think the universe just steered me away from being with the wrong people so I could be ready and open to be with the right ones.

Reality Bites

So here I am again. Blogging about the same thing that I blogged about last time. Basically an issue that has really been bothering me. But I think I have found a decent conclusion to it now and made the tough decision to walk away from it. I say it is tough because I wanted to believe in a fairy tale that did not exist, once again hoping for the good in someone’s intentions but feeling let down when that good was simply not there.

As I mentioned in my previous blog, I follow(ed) a small farm community online and truly enjoyed the love and devotion displayed towards her beloved chickens and other animals. But this illusion was shattered when she publically displayed her blood-lust towards a weasel that killed some of her chickens. This just did not sit well with me. It was like a contradiction of who she was portraying herself to be. Here is this woman putting dresses on her injured chickens and cuddling them like babies, treating all of her animals like family members, and then she reveals that her animal love is conditional. She has no problem spilling the blood of predators who are simply behaving like nature intended them to. And she has no problem being graphically sadistic about it. So that contradiction changed how I felt about her. I began to see her as not quite the gentle animal-lover I had believed her to be. But I still liked her anecdotes about her animals and I enjoyed watching her farm grow and progress as she added horses, goats and turkeys to her menagerie.

I hoped maybe she would have a change of heart on the predators and maybe realize she was wrong. After all, she did receive some feedback from readers who were upset with her blood-lust, and in a later incident with raccoons she didn’t make such an issue out of it and did state they would be relocated rather than slaughtered. So I hoped things would be better as I really liked her writing style and her witty banter steeped in a combination of pop culture and literacy.

However, there now stands an incident where there is no turning back for me.

The other day she made an announcement that she was taking orders on her turkeys for Thanksgiving!

Say what??

Are these the same turkeys she lovingly took endless photos of, wrote cute little stories about, developed their personalities (to the delight of us readers), and gave names to? She mothered these birds, she clearly came across as though they were FAMILY members! Or was that my own incorrect assumption? Perhaps it is normal to treat animals you plan to murder with such familial ties?

I don’t think so.

There is something very, very wrong about this situation. 

I called her out on it. I commented that I did not realize she was going to kill the turkeys! I had thought they were pets like the other animals…or perhaps I am wrong about them too? 

Her response was that if they were not bred for meat then the breed would die out as people have no use for them as pets. I then did a little online research and discovered many anti-kill farms keep these turkeys as barnyard pets. I mentioned that to her but she refused to budge on her stance. And that’s fine, she can do whatever she wants. But I am left feeling rather blindsided about who she is.

I then decided to leave her community permanently. There just is no other way. And I was going to send her a message of peace and hope but then I saw she had posted an open letter on her wall, directed at me, without naming me specifically. But it was very much directed at me. This is what she posted:

“A NOTE TO READERS.
Hi. Welcome. Glad to have you here. Please, make yourself to home. That said...

More and more, we are farm, not a zoo. My concentration, going forward, will be raising food-producing animals, giving them the best possible lives, as an end unto itself, and also to produce the best possible food.
If you choose to be a strict vegan, God bless you. That's a great choice, but it is not a choice for everyone. If you choose to consume dairy and eggs thinking you are not contributing to the torture and death of animals, you're not seeing the whole picture. Even if every drop of milk and every egg you buy and consume was produced by animals living in the lap of luxury, animals were slaughtered to produce it.
I know, I know. A huge veil was lifted from my eyes when I realised the fates of (abundant, unwanted) male chickens and dairy animals. I thought being a vegetarian was preventing animal death, and then I learned: the consumption of animal meat goes hand in hand with eggs and dairy, and will continue to do so, until the day Mother Nature decides to pop out a more favourable male/female ratio when she procreates. If we're facing our food, here, and I strive to face my food, squarely, without flinching, we need to face that.
I do not eat meat. I have not eaten meat for 17 years, which I believe gives me a little cred. I do not judge (and have never judged) those who do, and I am making it my mission to produce meat from animals who live, and die, as humanely as possible. I may even eat meat again someday, but that's another story. For now, I strive to be part of the solution of the CAFO problem, and not turn the blind eye I felt my vegetarianism granted me.
All this to say, if it upsets you to read about the slaughter of animals for meat, or the steps we take to protect our livestock, this might not be the page for you. I hope you stick around. I just wanted to be very clear about my mission here.
Peace out.”

So that was me told. 

And this is her farm to do with as she wishes, to treat animals however she desires. 

And no, I am not a vegan or a vegetarian although I would like to be. And I like to feel I am heading in that direction. But I could not befriend an animal and then kill it. I do feel terrible guilt about eating animals or animal products. And this has given me a well-needed push to go in the vegan direction a little faster.

But what bothers me here is failing to understand how she can dote on her animals like pets and then turn around and kill them. It is unsettling. How she treats predators should have been a red flag. But she gushes with such love and joy towards her animals that it defies reason to think that she could slaughter them. 

I made it clear to her by posting my own farewell. I stated I had no interest in changing her mind on the choices she makes, but I had to leave because she was not who I believed she was and everything about her farm was too much of a contradiction for me. Of course she deleted my comment even though it was said in complete kindness. She obviously does not want any other readers to see my words and think about her actions not being consistent with her behaviours.

Sigh. I have to put it all behind me now. Which is often hard for me to do as I have such a hard time walking away from someone or something that I loved or cared about. And I did care about her farm, I had come to delight in her posts and adorable photos of her seemingly worshipped animals.

I have gained wisdom from this experience though, one more moment of growth in the greater journey.

And my hope for her is that she looks at herself and asks herself why she is ok with the death of any animal, be it either pet or predator, on her hands. What does that say about who she is?

Winona was right. Reality bites.

Thou Shalt Not Kill

That is a rather biblical title. And I am anything but biblical, in fact I am completely non-religious. However, what I do believe in is the basic message behind most religions…kindness, love and compassion. And that extends to animals as well as people.

This past week has been rather lacking in compassion in the world. Just like when Bin Laden was killed, people have taken to celebrating and partying in the streets over the recent death of former British PM Margaret Thatcher. This is so disturbing to me. There is already such a nasty lack of compassion in our world, which we see constantly, so when a large scale outpouring of hate erupts so publically it just reminds me of where far too many people’s heads are at. And it is scary. Because that is what is being taught to children. And what does that mean for the future?

This lacking in compassion is coming out of even the most unlikely people. I have a former friend in Canada who is a small scale farmer. She keeps chickens for eggs and she is a vegetarian. She preaches kindness and is a gentle sort of person. So imagine my surprise when she showed a new side of herself and advocated killing an innocent animal. It is not what I expected at all.

She had been losing chickens to a sneaky raccoon. Not just killing her chickens to eat, but a bloodbath of a slaughter. She was understandably upset and set a trap for the raccoon. I thought I knew her so well. But I realized I did not truly know her at all when I asked her where they would be relocating the raccoon to. Her normally calm and gentle manner was replaced by a person I did not recognize. “Relocation?? Straight to HELL! I want it DEAD!” Those were the words snarled from my kind, sweet, vegetarian friend.

Ok, I understand seeing the chickens murdered brutally would be deeply upsetting. But why want death for another animal? An animal that was only following instinct? Did my friend just pretend to be a person of kindness? How can you be a person of kind heart and also want to call for death of an innocent animal? Or dance in the street to celebrate a leader who has died simply because you did not agree with her politics? It is all the same thinking. Very skewed thinking.

It does not make sense to me and our friendship nose dived after that…I began to see many more instances where she lacked in compassion and it was as if once she had let me peek inside the “real” person she is, she no longer cared to pretend. Which is too bad, because it makes it really hard for me to be friends with someone I don’t respect. And she lost my respect when she so easily wanted that raccoon killed.

I saw another instance of someone wanting a predator killed this week. Someone who’s farming blog I followed and really enjoyed. I felt horrible for her when she lost some of her own precious chickens to a weasel. But once again, I was surprised to discover she did not extend any compassion to the weasel. She came across so gentle and in love with her animals…but that is where the love ended. She only loves HER animals. And wants death and a dance on the grave of any other animal that may mess with HER animals. Relocation in a live trap for the weasel could have been done...but she posted she was happy it suffered when it died and she wanted to chop it up and feed it to the chickens.

Although I did not know this person personally, it was just another highlighted example of where true feelings lie and that even people who act like they love animals and have good hearts, show a different side to themselves when the chips are down.

The people who treat animals in this way are giving a very bad message to children or to people reading their words who may look up to them. It all starts with bloodlust of a raccoon or a weasel and from that will come a crowd who dances when someone hated dies.

There should be no “eye for an eye”. No killing or celebrating death. Yet these are the values and morals that so many people are teaching their kids by their own actions and behaviours. Children will mirror this way of thinking and those of us with a voice of love will find it harder and harder to be heard above the war cries and the cheering for death.

I don’t want compassion to be lost but the best I can do right now, is set the right example for my own. And send hope to those who just haven’t “gotten it” yet.

No More Def Lepparding: The future is Cornish!

I have not blogged in sooo long! Life has been busy and my handwritten journals have been using up all and any blogging time.

But, I don’t want to be accused of Def Lepparding! Which is my personal term to define any overly long time for completing something creative. Any true Lep fans, like myself, will understand this when they recall the panic that swept through the music industry in the mid 80’s while everyone waited…and waited…and waited for Def Leppard to complete Hysteria, a long 4 years and one lost drummer arm after Pyromania!

However, I have been determined to not do any Def Lepparding myself and with some pretty big life plans coming together for the near future, I feel it is the right time for this Metal Queen to blog a little. I am finding it hard to concentrate on anything else these days with so many things to look forward to and prepare for!

We are finally over dealing with extreme jet-lag, which lasted over a week after our return at the end of October from two months of backpacking around the UK.

This was the most epic of all of our epic car-free travelling adventures so far…and my first time going overseas to travel on my own with the children!

I am so thankful for the amount of mini-treks we made around southern coastal B.C. for the past three years, as these trips served to strengthen and prepare us for this biggie.

It reinforced my self-belief that I can do anything I set my mind to and nothing is too big or out of reach. With hope…vision…and action…it will all come together and that is exactly what happened with this journey.

We needed to step out of our everyday lives in a desperate way. The hurdles we face caring for my Mum, at 89 years old now, are becoming more than I can handle and a break was necessary as I worked out the best plan of action for our future. We needed to take a long, hard look at England as the family we are right now at ages 43, 8, 6 and 3. I needed to know if the children would want a British life as much as I do and so we began our explorations. Because I would never make them move anywhere they didn’t feel they wanted to be.

We travelled all over, from the north to the south, from the east to the west, getting housesitting jobs as a means to fully explore different areas and have a home base for weeks at a time. We also stayed in budget hotels, B&B’s and holiday cottages. I scoured the net to find the best deals on trains and buses, as well as discounted tickets to many of the attractions we visited. Financially, the whole adventure did not cost as much as I originally anticipated.

The children thrive on the stimulation of our travelling adventures and everywhere we went, the question I always asked was, “would you like to live here?” The answer was never said with certainty until we arrived in the Southwest. And if York was the intro to our travelling song, by the time we got to Cornwall, we had come to the crescendo, and it was like fireworks were going off all around us with the feelings this magical and beautiful place brought forth in us all.

My heart has belonged to Cornwall from the first moment I laid eyes on it’s glorious beaches back in the summer of 1990. It might be due to my genealogical tie from my Cornish ancestor, Samuel Jewell, who left Cornwall for the Eastern shores of Canada in the 1700‘s. Or is could be the magnetic pull from the distinctly powerful energy I always feel practically humming from the earth and the air around me there. But what really and truly cemented my realization that this needed to be our home was when on this visit there, my children echoed my love of Cornwall right back to me, loud and clear. They were the ultimate deciding factor as my heart continued to show me signs of why we needed to settle here. Why we return here time and time again. Why it is the itch I just can’t scratch.

I think our previous attempt to move to Cornwall in 2006 with my Mum did not work because I was unhappy inside and my soul was not open and free. I was a ball of negative energy due to the ex-husband and the strife I allowed into my life from the burdens he carried. It is hard to see things clearly or let fate guide your hand smoothly when the way is barred by a toxic, disruptive life-force around you.

To be in Cornwall surrounded by only love, positivity, and an open heart, made it all really clear at long last. Our journey was over, our quest had been a success. As we left Cornwall on the train, to go and enjoy the end of our trip in London, the encore to our expedition, we gathered into a family huddle and reinforced what we all wanted: to return to Cornwall to settle and create a home, as soon as we possibly can!

We won’t be waiting long. The plans are in place and life is hurtling along at breakneck speed. There is so much to do, but we will do it. We know where we want to be, and we are going for it.

We won’t succumb to any Def Lepparding on this life changing adventure!