Where have they gone?

When I was sick last week I lost 4lb in 24 hours, and it showed - my tummy got quite flat, my neck and cheeks were a bit more sculpted and my fingers looked positively bony.

I've now gained back 3 of those 4lb, as I expected I would, but I can't for the life of me work out where I've put them. My fingers are still bony, my tummy and neck are still slimmed. My cheeks have lost the slight hollow they developed, but I can't imagine the whole 3lb has gone into them. A mystery!

Aaand we're back!

The computer is fixed, I've recovered from the consecutive attacks of a cold and stomach flu, and everything is shiny again.

I hadn't had a proper stomach flu since I was a teenager, and it was a weird experience - I found I'd forgotten what to expect from it. I was revoltingly ill for 12 hours, nauseous for another 12 after that, and spaghetti-legged weak for a further 48 hours before finally pulling myself together on Sunday morning. It wasn't fun. E promptly came down with the same thing and is just recovering, and it seems to be doing the rounds as my supply teaching consultant also has it, and she doesn't even live in the same town!

So everything is pretty much back to normal. I didn't get a chance to blog about my job offer before everything went haywire with the laptop, but about two weeks ago now I was offered a two-term contract at a local primary school, starting in January. It's to take over a year one class, and I'm hopeful that it could lead to an ongoing position or at least secure my teaching experience over here as it's directly with the school rather than through a supply agency. It's an interesting school and a complex, challenging class so it's going to be a tiring role, but I believe a rewarding one as well. Certainly it'll stretch me to the height of my abilities. I'm looking forward to it!

It's been amazingly foggy in Hertfordshire lately. Fog is something entirely outside my experience - we really don't get it in Western Australia, not in this kind of density - so I find it quite marvellous. Here's some shots from Sunday:

I went to a shop on the outskirts of town on Sunday (for the Windows 7 upgrade that eventually fixed my computer problems entirely - it really just needed a wipe & reinstall) and had a strange experience on the way back. The fog had been so thick and obscuring that, although I knew there was a moderate skyscraper on the other side of the intersection, I'd forgotten its existence. The fog started to clear off as I was walking towards the building, and I did an absurd double-take as it appeared through the mists. It then took on an amazing blaze of light as the sun finally reached it. It was quite something!

Computer Trouble

I'm typing this on my phone, due to the lamentable fact that my computer has been in repairs since last Wednesday. It came home briefly on Friday but had an almost immediate relapse so went back on Saturday and we're waiting to hear back on its progress. Until it's back I can't upload daily photos and will only blog in little bits and pieces. Hang in there, I'll be back soon :D

A bit of frivolity...

T'was the night before bonfire and all through the town,
Every firework was bursting with wonderous sound,
The rockets were set in the garden with care,
In the hopes that bright starburst soon would be there;

The Munchkin was cuddled all snug in his bed,
As visions of Catherine-wheels danced in his head,
And E in her nightgown and I in long sleeves,
Had just settled down for a cool autumn's eve;

When out in the sky there arose such a light,
That we ran to the window all admiring the sight,
There 'gainst the night-sky all cloudy and grey,
Rose such glorious fire as turned night into day;

The sparks, how they glittered! And whistled and sang,
With tumultuous voice from the housetops they sprang,
Now red ones! Now blue ones! Now pink ones and green!
Now gold-swirling spirals, a sight to be seen;

We watched all a-wond'ring as they twinkled and roared,
As they shot fell and scattered we gazed as though awed,
"Such a cost they must bear for this fulsome display!"
We cried, all reliev'd we did not have to pay;

At last they were spent and the skies once more dim,
We returned to our chores, be they ever so grim,
But just as we thought that was all for the night,
There's one more explosion - and with that, "Good night!"

NotNaNoWriMo

Blessed Samhain / Happy Halloween for yesterday, everyone!

I was thinking about myself this time last year, the difficult times and revelations I'd been having, my growing awareness that my self-image and lifestyle had to change, my hopes and my dreams and my fears. It's astonishing to think just how far I've come. I've realised several of my dreams and I am working towards others. I'm so much more confident and comfortable in myself, and so very happy.

Traditionally, this is the time of year when I blog about NaNoWriMo. I have attempted it most years since 2006, although using "attempt" may be stretching the definition. Most years it's involved writing a couple of paragraphs, hating them and giving up. In 2008 I managed more than 8000 words, and in 2010 I got over 14,000. With both, however, I lost the momentum to continue long before the month was over. The 2008 attempt suffered from catastrophic plot failure, while in 2010 I was unable to relax and concentrate with my volatile ex in the house - I only managed what I did because he was away for the first week of November. When he came back, writing stopped and so did my NaNo attempt.

This year I'm not doing NaNoWriMo. This is partly in recognition of my current life circumstances: it wouldn't be fair to anyone in the family, myself included, to hide away writing for a month. But equally, it's because I am reassessing my whole writing process. I'm currently fired up with ideas, the latest iteration of a long-term fantasy project, but I am approaching it carefully. I don't want to write massive swathes of text in a hurry, hate it the first time I re-read it, get discouraged, abandon it and go into a months-long non-writing funk. That's my usual pattern and it's unproductive. Since it doesn't work for me, and has never worked for me, it's time to try something else.

So, I'm taking the somewhat drastic decision that I'll be doing my writing on paper from now on. I know you're all looking at me as if I've gone mad, but there it is. One of my greatest obstacles in actually getting things written is the temptation of the internet, both in terms of social networking and in terms of 'looking things up' for my writing - usually things I don't actually need to know. It's no co-incidence that my writing output dropped dramatically when I first got internet access, and has declined further as my internet connections have got better. I'm going to take my time, write slowly, hand-craft my words away from shiny flashing distracting things. No tempting search engines, no Facebook, no I'll-just-make-avatar-portraits-for-each-character... none of that. Just me, a pen, and words. We'll see how it goes.

Thus, no NaNoWriMo for me. I can't write at that pace and transcribe fast enough to keep up with the required word count. But I will be writing, and I hope that this time they will be quality words that stand the test of December.

Wish me luck!

(NB: I am adding a new page to the blog today, as I'm starting a one-photo-every-day challenge. The page will showcase the pictures I've taken, updated daily or weekly depending on how busy I am. Look out for it!)

Awen

Awen (noun): poetic inspiration. From the Indo-European root *-uel, meaning 'to blow'.

I love the concept of awen. A wind blowing through your soul, bringing inspiration in its wake. I've only recently discovered the term, in reading about modern Druidic tradition amongst many other explorations of pagan paths. It immediately spoke to me, like few other concepts in any tradition have ever done. I know that feeling intimately, and seeking it forms a big part of my own search for a spiritual identity. For me, without spirituality there is no awen, and without awen there is no spirituality. The sense of connectedness and transcendence is something I have sought since I was young.

Music has always been one of my sources of awen. When listening I find it in music of all genres, from classical to new age to Enya to ordinary pop/rock ("Solsbury Hill" by Peter Gabriel and "Steer" by Missy Higgins are perfect examples). I also find moments of it when singing or playing an instrument in a group - those moments of transcendence when the ensemble combines perfectly and the music itself seems to come to life. It's one of the major reasons why I still love Anglican church services - there is a magic in massed voices that defies artificial boundaries between faiths.

The natural world, and its weather and the turning of its seasons, has always been my biggest source of awen, and it is what led me to paganism. Red berries against a blue sky, sunlight across the plains, a crayfish scuttling under a riverbank, the wind in my hair, mist rolling up a valley, thunder on a hot night, the first frost of autumn... when I am out there in the natural world, awen is everywhere.

Of course, the man-made world is not without awen either. Buildings that are old or odd or quirky. Artworks I like for no better reason than that they speak to my soul. (Here is one - I have seen the original in the Tate and was captivated). Crafts that are nifty or cute. An uplifting book scene or a really clever joke. When I open myself to it, awen is everywhere.

My desire to write fiction has been driven by childhood experiences of awen. It was lacking in my real life - we were not a religious family - and my main sources of it, then as now, were music, nature and stories. My formative years were shaped by books and stories told in electronic media that blew into my soul, inspiring me to act them out, extemporise, adapt and retell over and over again out in the half-acre scrap of garden and bushland that was my childhood temple. All of the books I've tried to write and the stories I've tried to tell have contained elements of this raw need to channel, create, inspire and share the sensation of awen.

Age 9, glowing with inspiration

 I've been thinking about this a lot lately, as I try yet again to put words on paper, or on screen as it is these days (and perhaps that's part of the problem). The wind of inspiration blows into me, and I come alive with the thought of the story I have to tell. I envisage it whole in my head, see it, feel it, live it out in little scenes in my mind, but when the words reach the page they seem to lose their sparkle. How do I maintain that sense of wonder, and the fierce spirit of inspiration? How do I keep the fire of awen burning for the weeks, months and years it takes to craft a novel? How do you keep your spirit glowing with purpose when you're burdened with money worries, or the toddler is being irrational, or when the housework never seems to be finished? How do you teach your heart to be open to awen every moment of every day? Not just for novel writing, but for teaching, and cooking, and keeping house, and nurturing my loved ones, and hoping and believing and growing?


What are your sources for awen (or whatever you would choose to call it)? What reminds you that it's good to be alive, or feeds your creative fires? Where do you get your inspiration?

When the grass is jewelled.

It really feels like autumn this morning, at long last. It's been getting a little cooler lately and the leaves have been falling apace, but the last two days there's been a real crispness in the air. Our outdoor thermometer said 1C when we checked it at half past six this morning, and as the sun came up the mist rolled up the valley and has blanketed our town. It's gorgeous out but very crisp!

Some pre-dawn pictures from our back door. Check out the pink contrails!

Two weeks until Hallowe'en and three to Bonfire Night... the fireworks are coming! The munchkin has been asking for fireworks since April so it's high time they arrived. We plan to set a few off ourselves as well as going to public fireworks events on both nights.

It's going to be Christmas before we know it.