A bit of escapism

This is how I’d like my life to be right now…free and soaring and riding Hippogriffs over Scottish lochs.

Memory

Isn’t memory a strange thing? Well perhaps not memory itself but the way it manifests (or fails to). Let me explain. I had a completely exhausting week last week. We have long days anyway, with both of us working full time and the girls in before and after school care every day, but last week 4 nights out of 5 we had ‘other activities’ to attend which made for very long days away from home. Places to go, people to see you know. Add to that three very disturbed nights for me (for various reasons) and I was left utterly knackered.

So yesterday afternoon I decided to have a little nap and took myself off to bed for an hour. Lying there, slightly demented from tiredness, my mind began to wander into those mysterious places it goes been waking and sleep. I suddenly had a very comforting image of a house that I love very much. I don’t know who it belongs to but I’ve always admired it when we drove past. It sits near the top of a gently sloping hill, and is surrounded by beautiful trees. It has a small fenced field close to the house where live two chocolate brown, velvety faced donkeys. There’s just something about that house that makes me feel peaceful and content and only slightly (ahem) envious of the people lucky enough to live there.

This isn’t it, but it’s not unlike it. Photo credit here

In my semi-slumber I thought ‘we must take a drive past it so I can see it. Where is it again?’ After a few moments confusion and delving into memory I recalled where it was. I also recalled that I hadn’t been there in more than 20 years. It was in Scotland, on a road we sometimes took home which my mother referred to as the ‘wee road’. We’d leave town and Mum would say to Dad ‘can we drive home on the wee road’. We all knew what she meant, it was the ‘scenic route’ and we all loved it. Part of it took us down a narrow road past a farm, in spring and summer there were always wildflowers growing at the side of the road and we’d stop and pick them. The road had steep banks and hedgerows and as we picked the flowers the Highland Cows in the field would peer curiously over the hedges at us.

Photo by John Toms

I was a sucker for those gentle brown eyes and silky noses.

Now I can understand that is a happy memory and I guess that somewhere in my mind something triggered that place and I probably needed that sense of comfort that it gave me. But I can’t helping feeling that ‘memory’ is a miraculous thing and a little strange. It was vivid, I could see it and feel it and smell it, for a short time it fooled my sleepy mind into thinking it was a recent memory, but it wasn’t.

I really believe we have access to everything we need inside ourselves. In the past few days I’ve had lots of realisations and epiphanies about things. I think there’s something in that memory for me examine too, I just have to work out what it is.

Restless

I'm feeling edgy today, restless and cross for no reason. Well probably not no reason, life is slightly stressful just now and to top it all I'm homesick again and all of that is manifesting as a kind of restless crankiness. It's a beautiful thing to behold, just ask Tom.

I don't know why I can't just settle here and accept it as my home. I want to, I don't enjoy feeling this way, I really want to let go of the desire to return to the UK and get on living my life here, but I just can't seem to. No matter how hard I try. It still feels temporary, like it's the place I'm living until I can get back to the place I LIVE.

In other news the girls brought home the annual note about school swimming. Every year they spend a week having lessons with the school. The note reminded us that we have to pay $50 for each child. So that's $100 we're up for a month before Christmas. Fabulous. I'm sick of giving that school money (told you I was cranky).

Tom sent me an email from work telling me about a terrible training session he'd attended. He got a feisty email in return for his trouble. I have spent a good deal of time as a college lecturer and I know what it's like to stand in front of groups of students of varying opinion about a) the subject matter b) whether they actually need to be there (because they know it all already) and c) your abilities. It sucks. It's a hard thing to do at the best times and on the occasions that you get some smarty pants, know-it-all git sitting there judging you it's enough to make you pull out the pepper spray (no, I never actually had any pepper spray..... unfortunately). A different story altogether when it's their turn to stand in front of the group and present their major project....with me grading them. Karma I think you'd call it.

Ok, I think I'd better stop now, I'm frothing at the mouth. Be careful with the comments won't you?

Eclectic Sundays

Today Hannah I watched the Transformers movie. It was my choice. Because when it comes to sci-fi, vampires, zombies and robots I have the mentality of a 14 year old boy. I have no idea how this happened and no, it doesn't clash at all with my equal love of Shakespeare, Jane Austen and anything to do with The Crusades. It's just all part of the rich tapestry that is ME.

So we watched Transformers and I spent the rest of the morning striding around saying 'I AM OPTIMUS PRIME' in my best deep, robotic voice.

Once I was over that we completely changed pace and made potato scones. Kathyann sent me a parcel with, among other things, a couple of books of Scottish recipes (because I was complaining of homesickness). Today I introduced my children to more 'food of their heritage'.

Their Scottish blood flows so strongly that they loved them and wolfed down several in one sitting. Of course the other half of their heritage is equally strong and there was nothing I could do to stop this...

Now in case anyone is wondering if I am gradually turning this into a food blog, don't worry, it will never happen. I will from time to time display examples of things I make. This is due more to the fact that I hate to cook, so when I do cook I want it recorded for posterity. I have no desire to pretend I'm Delia Smith nor any delusions about the results of my efforts. I really loathe cooking, I do it because I have to feed my children and occasionally I want to eat.

Tom finds this completely bewildering because I watch TV cooking shows like there's no tomorrow. Hannah and I settle down a couple of times a week to watch the likes of Nigella, Rick Stein and Maggie and Simon . Everyone must be quiet and I must not be disturbed while I watch. Last night Tom was talking about this strange phenomenon. He insisted that I must like something about cooking because I love those shows so much. Then I realised what it was, it isn't about food or cooking or even eating. It's about watching someone create something. I also like to watch Star Portraits and I'm willing to tolerate Rolf Harris because I love to see the paintings being created, I like watching Grand Designs to see some amazing houses being designed and built. I have many different outlets for my own creativity but it doesn't mean I don't enjoy seeing what other people do, and really I'd much rather it was them than me slaving over a hot stove, painting some stroppy celebrity or stressing over the budget and time constraints of a new build.

Poor neglected blog

It's been 8 days! EIGHT! Unbelievable. Why so slack I hear you ask? I don't know I reply.

Well ok, I have been busy with work, developing some business, working on the you-know-what and generally getting back into work mode after several months off. Here's some evidence in case you don't believe me...

Hmmm, not there yet but getting close. In some ways I'm quite proud of the fact that I managed to work this long without procrastinating by blogging instead. But I feel a bit bad that I ignored my blog.

I've also been busy receiving parcels from blog friends...well one parcel from one blog friend, Kathyann at Meg's Mum's Muffins read my homesick post and sent me all this....

So first on the agenda is potato scones this weekend while torturing entertaining the family with the Scottish accordion music. Actually the girls love it, Tom's suffers in silence, he knows the risks involved in marrying a Scottish woman - it's not all bagpipes and haggis. Thanks again Kathyann, oh.. and Aislin and I have reached an 'understanding' over the lavendar bag.

We are also enjoying our abundant crop of tomatoes. We have three varieties and they are all fantastic. We're getting a good dose of Vitamin C and Lycopene just now. There are so many we're going to have to start bottling sauce and making chutney soon. In the meantime lunch today was wholegrain toast with sliced 'just picked' tomato (still warm from the sun) with a sprinkling of Malden. Yum. It really is the simple things isn't it?

Sausage and scones

Sometimes I get homesick. For Scotland. Or for Britain really, all of it. And Ireland. Because really if you're living in Scotland the rest of the UK and Ireland is still your 'hood. And I love it all. It doesn't matter how much I like this country or how long I've been here or that (almost) everyone I love most in the world lives here too (except my sister Moyra - she's in America and that is a whole other painful post) I still find it hard to really think of this country as home. On one level of course I have a home here and I live in it happily with my Australian husband and children. But from the perspective of being in my 'own country' - I never feel as though I am. That is really difficult for some people to understand, but that's just how it is.

So....sometimes I get homesick. And now is one of those times. It's not pleasant, it's overwhelmingly, hopelessly miserable. I mope around for days humming 'Flower of Scotland' and torturing myself reading UK blogs and magazines and watching anything I can from the BBC on TV. Even if it's crap. Which it always most of the time quite often is. I make snow scenes from Ballachulish my wallpaper on the laptop. Then I start to crave foods. Yesterday it was sliced sausage and black pudding (both very vegan delicacies - ahem, a heart attack on a plate). Notice it even has it's own Wikipedia page - of course it has. The day before that I would have given my first born for a Tunnocks Tea cake - or better still a 6 pack of them (apparently they are a 'favourite of popstars Supergrass' - whoever the hell they are). Today it was soda scones. At least that one I could satisfy. Aislin and I got to work this afternoon and made some.

And of course there had to be tea - from Harrods because the right now the Coles stuff isn't cutting it.

They turned out ok.

But I'm still homesick.