the diary of a reluctant domestic goddess...

I read this and was gently inspired. I felt invigorated by the simplicity of it all and looking around my house, decided that now was as good a time as any to do a bit of Zen-cleaning.

So with serene determination, a clear mind and an empty house (shipped boys off to school and Himself to work) I started.

I initially meditated with a mug of tea as I formulated a plan of attack. The house, as an entire entity, is too vast  a task to tackle especially as I only have the morning to start a life changing de-cluttering, cleansing and leaving no trace. No - a small piece of my untidy world would be enough start with (as the saying goes....how does a mouse eat an elephant? Well - a very small piece at a time) My house is my elephant....!

Having started another mediation with my second mug of tea I decided that procrastination does not fit in a Zen-style cleaning sesh so reluctantly drained the last drop and started.

I filled the sink with lovely warm soapy water and washed carefully and mindfully the breakfast crockery, keeping my head clear and thought free (note to self -must clean out litter tray). The cats were lying by the fire I'd lit earlier to warm the house, helping me have that satisfied homely feel (note to self - must clean up ash around fire) Keeping my head clear of thoughts and lists was going to be a little harder than I had hoped...hey ho, will keep at it (note to self - must start washing machine) hmmm.

The cats, now rested and feeling quite Zenned out - saunter over to the kitchen as I start lovingly and mindfully wiping down the surfaces (note to self - how did paw prints get up here?) I shush my chatty brain as I serenely scrub the mucky marks on the wall (note to self - think I will take off my fleece, all this Zen-style housework is raising a sweat!) Shuush brain!

The cats, now fully invigorated from their Zentype rest are having a full scale fisticuffs on the kitchen floor, red and white fluff artfully flying and drifting in Zenlike motion in the air. I, maintaining my serenity, open the back door to encourage them to go and play out. They, completely in the zone of cat-warfare, have not noticed my gentle encouragement and continue their game with gusto. With conciousness and a kindly guiding foot - I usher them out (note to self - try to breathe more calmly) I brush a stray hair out of my eye, straighten my apron and try to reconnect with that Zenstyle housework thing I am trying to engender. It's not working. I think a spot of meditation will help put me back on track. On goes the kettle.

For a short while I am busy - kept buoyed along by the feeling of Zengoodness. Then.....Pan comes in through the window pronouncing very loudly that she HaS BeeeN OUtside and IT is RAINING! I lift her off the window ledge and pop her on the floor. Trying not to notice the muddy pawprints she has kindly left me in a rather fetching pattern. I reach for the cloth and remove them instantly and instantly feel Zensatisfied.

I continue with my Zenwork, trying not to think about how grubby a house can get, clearing my mind of thought, breathing and using the act of zenwork as a form of meditation - when....

In comes Lily - she too was caught out in the rain but with her huge red fur coat has kept her reasonably dry however, her entire fluffy undercarriage is dripping in wet twigs, leaves and garden detritus. I zenlunge so I can de-twig her and she, being a cat, maintained a decent distance from my grasping hands as she shed her own personal compost-like-contents along the floor and the carpet. Standing up and composing my rapidly reducing Zencalm I accepted her and decided that I would just vacuum up after I had finished in the kitchen. She, by now had settled down by the fire and was pulling off and spitting out leaves and twigs all over the carpet (breathe..meditate..breathe...meditate......).

Back in the sactuary of the now almost Zenclean kitchen, Pan has gone out of the door coz the sun is back out and come back in through the window - as she cheerfully tells me I liiiiike this coz it IS fUUUUn. I mindfully and lovingly notice her ********muddy paw prints along the window, across the sink, on to the floor and end where she very happily sits and purrs at me. (pant..meditate..pant...meditate......)

Teeth clenched, hackles raised and blood pressure ready to blow, I get the cloth and vigourously rub off the prints and stomp down to get the vacuum cleaner and frantically clean the carpet then round the fire. The vacuum cleaner doesn't seem to be playing nicely so I check the bag - it is full to bursting. I am getting jaw ache. Bag replaced - I start again.

A final flourish with it and I am done. As I turn of the motor I can hear the dreaded noise that all cat owners cower at.....the noise of digging in the litter tray. That sound of a cat as it settles in the tray then....that moment of silence.....that 'productive' moment of silence......then the frantic covering up.

Dig. Dig,dig, dig,dig,dig,scratch, scratch, scratch (silence as they check what they have been doing) then a scattering of litter as they leap out of the tray feeling quite pleased with themselves.

Trembling at the affront to my Zenzone kitchen I stumbled into the detritus strewn floor as I pass a very satisfied and relieved cat. I can feel a cold sweat come over me. (pant..pant.....pant... sod the meditate..pant.....) I empty the tray as a smell worthy of chemical warfare engulfs me and my Zenzone, my eyes water and I feel faint at the length I have to hold my breath.

Outside in the fresh air, I clean the tray, dry it, reload it with litter and return it to the kitchen. Feeling a little less Zenhappy and getting rather fed up with the Zenwork, I put on the kettle and try to think calm thoughts, fail miserably as I can hear the second cat leaping into the clean litter tray................

Later.

Having recovered myself, put out and then had to dash out to bring back in the washing, dried two rain-wet cats, re-wiped the floor, the window ledge and washed the dog (no - not sure why I did that one either) I needed to bring myself back down to earth - so have resorted to blogging and having a brew......

*sigh*

Lily and Pan - the anti-Zencats

I have to say that having a break from blogging was a good thing for me - quite cathartic actually. Your comments are wonderful to read and I am always gratified that firstly that my blog is read and secondly you comment on my rather random life - thank you! Welcome too - all my new followers, which have quietly crept up to 101 - wow, thank you again :) xxx

blessings (and other Zenlike thoughts)   hawthorn xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Walking, receiving,knitting, creating...and forensics

Walking - Troutbeck, Lake District
Receiving - Flowers for our 23rd (yes 23) wedding anniversary - thank you xxx
Knitting - A shawlette in beautiful desert colours in a wool I know absolutely nothing about, except it works up beautifully
Creating - Drift wood heron from wood gleaned from our holidays, have also made a mirror frame but not photographed that yet.
? Forensics? Well, Himself and Youngest have made a start with the loft conversion and to reduce the dust from the rubble and plaster board they have rigged up opaque hessian-style plastic sheeting upstairs.
Looking a lot like a scene from a police crime programme.

There is plenty of scope for finger prints as a thick layer of plaster dust settles happily over the entire house..........the dust sheets work then......! *sigh*

In which I waffle (a lot)

After the 'hurry up's and the 'get on's and the dashing about for the school run, I am home with just the radio, washing machine and two cats for company. The radio is a shade too loud but my mug of tea keeps me here.

A glance outside confirms that the weather hasn't improved since I sprinted from the car to the house. A menacing bruise-coloured cloud is still hanging just behind the wind-whipped trees. The seasons are moving on and our sporadic and brief summer seems to have slipped quietly out the back door while autumn has stormed in and taken centre stage.

It has been a funny year. In a not funny way.

I don't personally feel to achieved much. Surprisingly a number of friends and colleagues I have chatted to feel the same way. Hmmm - is just co-incidence or a weather induced melancholy or the world downturn? Who knows.

I couldn't bear it any longer - I had to turn the radio down to a less invasive level. An annoyingly condescending man was spouting on about aggressive take-over bids and how this would shake up the economy.
It went something like this - BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH  BLAH BLAH BLAH (ad infinitum)  blah blah blah blah..... That is better.

I am knitting again, at least this weather does bring out the crafter in me, I have almost finished the tea cosy I was making to learn how to decrease.....forgotten what type of decrease it was, my Mom did tell me! oops :)

I am also trying something else out - will show later.

I have just read back what I have written and realise what a waffling non-interesting post this is turning out to be. Will try harder.

I will share with you (coz it will make me feel better) some of our holiday. We had started off with a wonderful 8 days in Northumberland. The weather, although not non-stop sunshine, was enough to give us freckles and a warm honey-coloured glow. Then suddenly at the end of the week, rain and a change in the atmosphere on the campsite made us wonder whether to move on and discover a new delight for ourselves. Our personal idea of camping heaven is a field filled with nothing but wild flowers, trees and us.

I have to admit to not wanting to share our holiday freedom and space with other campers who prefer noisy and jolly party type get-aways. They obviously enjoy their time and I am fine with that, what I don't appreciate is when their holiday invades mine. As we paid up and left to explore further, the campsite owner apologised for the antics of the apparently unbooked and unexpected jolly camping party - I felt sorry for him, he was about to ask them to leave and he was only a little bloke.

We travelled up towards Edinburgh then across to Glasgow. As we drove through the rain sodden countryside the skies began to lighten as did our moods. It was like a whole new holiday.

After negotiating the busy roads of Glasgow and crossing the Erskine Bridge, Himself and I consulted a rather old map and discussed the route. We were about to come to a large spit of land - with lochs either side and the road split at the bottom and joined again at the top. Looking at the map (printed in the early 1980s) both roads were given equal status in size and quality. So we plumped for the one on the left, my reasoning it was nearer the sea and our destination and just because I rather fancied it......oops.


 The *wonderfully*winding*narrow*road was tacked lightly against the sheer cliff edge just above the dark and choppy loch waters. Himself gritted his teeth and clenched his hands till his knuckles went white as he drove us along a single width road whilst towing the caravan....... oops again.

I kept up a hopefully cheerful and happy commentary about the view and the fact the sun was shining and we were going up a lovely part of the countryside yadda yadda yadda and the boys did the same only theirs was interjected with -
Holy COW - have you seen the drop!
..and............ Wowser Dad - that was CLOSE!!!!
.......and.............
This is EX-CI-TING Dad can we do it again!?!?!? -

 and.........this is JUST LIKE a ROLLER COASTER!!!

(Gee thanks boys for the support and help)

Any hoo, after a rather steep downhill (cue hot brake smell)  then an equally steep climb (cue hot engine smell) I spotted a picnic stop which Himself quite happily pulled into. It was nearly 5pm and we were all starving so I turned the caravan into a chuck-wagon, Himself consulted his maps, the boys claimed a picnic bench and the dog rolled around in glee on the grass.

We sat and ate looking over Gare Loch and all the excitement and tension of the drive began to fade. In a mile or two we would be joining back onto the main road up at Garelochheid and we could carry on in a less 'fly by the seat of your pants' fashion. Phew.

On our return journey, after our holiday - we chose NOT to do this road, preferring the other one on the map which was a wide many-laned thing. Easier to drive but far far less fun and adventurous.

But life is like that - choose the unknown path and take what comes or choose the well trodden path and find nothing new.....................

You knitwit!

Crochet - hmmm - my first love. I fell into it's wonderful ways and together we were wonderfully creative. I was able to make things I had only seen others do. Now - here I was doing it too - bliss.

Knitting - hmmm. A prickly relationship. I would like to be friends with the knitting needle but it (they- forgot they come in pairs....) they see me as part of the 'great unwashed' and treat me as so. Thwarting my every step (stitch) as I attempt to learn new things.

My great plan this last holiday was to use every minute in the car, or sitting on the beach or in the evenings, to get out the needles and a ball of yarn and play around. 

During the evenings after our days out we would sit in our cosy warm caravan and this would happen.....

Look at pattern.

Feel inspired.

Cast on correct number of stitches.

Get interrupted.

Count stitches.

Add or rip back to correct number.

Look at pattern book for reassurance. 

Pause....deep breath....continue casting on (start thinking about putting the kettle on)

Get to end of foundation row - count again (Add or rip back to correct number)

Deep breath again (promising self a definite kettle-going-on-action at end of first true row)

Start pattern....K1 P3 K18 P3 K1.

Ok, can do this thing (said in a rousing self-help-sort-of-way)

Get to end - really - I did it? Woo hoo (now turn around and start again)

K4 P18 K4 (what was I worried about - I can do this !)

K1 P3 (CB3) 3 times P3 K1.

You what?

K1 P3 (CB3) 3 times P3 K1.

Umm. Kettle action sounding good.

Look at pattern...try to decipher the instructions.

Find the decoding and stare blankly at knitting needles.

Put knitting down.

Put kettle on.

Frown.

Make tea for all four of us, get biscuits/scones/cake and distribute between ravenous boys and try not to get involved in their game/discussion/painting/reading/origami as need to concentrate on my own torture.

K1 P3 (CB3) 3 times P3 K1.

Attempt my understanding of the above gobbledegook.

Rip back.

Try again.

Rip back.

Yarn looking a little frayed.

I am feeling a little frayed.

Look at husband - who takes one look at K1 P3 (CB3) 3 times P3 K1, snorts and grins and retreats behind his book/newspaper/map whilst planning tomorrows walk.

Hmmm

Try again.

Try to resist the urge to rip back.

Persist onto next row.

And next. (ok - getting on)

And next. (gently feeling a little less perplexed)

Then reach the part of the pattern that says

K1 P3 K3 (CF3) 2 times K3  P3 K1.

Throw knitting aside - reach for mug of tea (see that it is empty)

Sulk.

This sort of repeated itself for several days and I felt defeated, dejected and demoralised. So gave up the knitting and picked up the paint brush/book/map/biscuit/origami and started to enjoy my holiday instead!

Then, on the way home - it was an 8 hour drive - I tried again. And finally succeeded!

And now?

Well, I am knitting again - only this time, something a little less.....challenging :)

In-car entertainment - we went out in our 2cv this weekend - probably the last warm enough day to play out in our funny little car.

And my knitting love-hate relationship? Status quo.

Oh and another thing....

I am procrastinating.
If I have to do it, if it needs doing, it remains undone as I am distracted by things frivolous and unimportant.

It is damp and grey outside and I need to get the washing done.... so I light the fire to warm the house and to warm me,  but still avoid collecting up the washing.

Instead I hold the cat, look out of the window, stand by a crackling fire, blog.

If those were on my have-to-do list, I'd probably avoid them too.   Mind you, the cat is in the mood for being held and would just climb up my leg and settle herself on my shoulder regardless of what I was doing.

I am distracted by the thought that this year is almost through and I feel to have achieved very little.

I must check my list but walk determinedly passed it as I know for every one thing I cross off with a flourish, two or three more items need to be added.


So I cheer myself up with the thought of a mug of tea and fondly look at some holiday photos.

Ooh ho! Better already -besides it's Friday today and that means the weekend is almost here! Woo hoo :)

And you?

What's on your list you are actively avoiding?
The housework?
Homework?
Dusting?
Writing a letter or email?
Spill the beans, feel guilty and then go and do it!!
Have a lovely weekend

blessings  hawthorn xxxxxxxx

What was that?

Blink.

Sorry? What was that? Well that was summer -our summer and in that moment we managed to squeeze in three weeks of delicious family holiday.

We wild swam in Northumbrian rivers, body-boarded in the seas, celebrated birthdays on the beach, watched the sun go down over the Cheviot hills and over Jura.

We visited ancient stones and castles, Played in the rain and in the sun, beach combed and rock pool dabbled. What a brilliant time - holidays are like a brief romance - intense exciting and fantasy.

Excuse me while I wash out the salt from my hair

For a few short blissful weeks I turned feral.

I lived alongside a rocky highland shore where there were more seals than sunbathers.
It was cathartic.
It was healing and it was wonderful.

I spent quality time with my boys - I watched two of them grow and mature into sun-kissed, tousle haired young men with freckles on their noses. Himself and I both calmed down and left our work-stresses behind, found time to talk and more importantly - time to just sit in companionable silence.

We both breathed.

Deeply.

Now we have returned. The holiday washing is - how can I put it...... bordering on solar eclipse level. Not that we were that grubby I hasten to add! No, it's salt crusty jeans and sandy socks. It is bracken scented jerseys and river wet towels and swimming costumes. Wet suits hang out dripping, bodyboards are stacked up waiting to be put away till next year (oh what a depressing thought) and beach-combed treasures lie in bags awaiting rediscovery and placing somewhere special.

Despite all our yearnings to return to our island feral dreams we have returned to normality and our cats. Who are delighted to see us and as I type, Pan is sitting on my knee and purring her little heart out and kneading with pinsharp claws - bless.

I am back.

I will return.

But I need to hang the washing out first............