"Holiday" doesn't even come close

Last week I took a week off. From work. From my day to day. From my usual "normality". And it was utterly marvellous. What's been most fascinating about it has been quite how much has emerged from what was "just" 10 days away.

The main focus of the holiday was to go "WWOOFing" at a community in Shropshire. As chance would have it they were having their annual mini-festival the weekend I was due to be arriving so I ended up partaking in that. In many ways it was pretty tough turning up not knowing anyone, while also knowing in amongst the people in the field were folk who actually lived there full time. However, in a rather "worlds colliding" way I'd contacted a local couchsurfer when I was looking at different options for accommodation on Saturday night  - and she had already been invited to the party, so she and her boyfriend were kind enough to meet me on arrival and introduce me to a bunch of people. Not only that, turns out she'd just processed my booking for a permaculture course in October. Genius.

But the party  / festival was very much an aside. The real gold was in the gardening I got to do. Monday to Friday I spent most of the days out in the gardens, weeding, picking soft fruits (I barely even made a dent - there was SO MUCH!), doing oddments of pruning to clear pathways that had become very overgrown by abundant vegetative growth and a little bit of clearing and shifting of stuff. I got stung by nettles, scratched by brambles, thistled by thistles and bitten by beasties (including a particularly avid bitey ant) and it was utterly wonderful. I even got my first blood blister while being overly zealous with a chunk of wood I was splitting with the magical log splitter (which attaches to a tractor for power) - which is providing to be a rather entertaining addition to my hands, mainly because I keep thinking I've got one nail with nail varnish on. 

And did I mention a lot of this I got to do in a genuine walled garden? I was (and still am) so in love with that particular part of the grounds, more than anywhere else. There's something magical about walled gardens.

In and of itself the gardening was brilliant, but there being a community of 12 adults + 6 children (plus visitors minus members who were away) around and about both in the gardens and in the house, as well as to share dinner with (which was always brilliant and sharing a meal with up to 20 others is ace) and often other meals just added so much. It's all well and good doing stuff, but it's the people who really make it or break it.

Until now I'd been very hesitant of community living and yet I was suitably impressed - and enamoured - of how functional this particular community was. Of course, it any group there will be highs and lows but my nightmare scenario of it all being lows just didn't appear. So that was quite an eye opener too.

Overall, the whole week felt like I'd dropped into a parallel universe. And a universe I REALLY enjoyed being in. I completely lost myself in the gardening, slowing down, calming my mind (without trying to, just as a product of being focused on something so, literally, earthy) and just enjoying it. But the most fascinating thing about this parallel universe is that, quite simply, it exists. Speaking to people while I was there (visitors and members) reminded me of all the different ways of living there are. Reminding me that although I live in a certain way, it certainly isn't the only way for humanity, and it's also now the only way for me.

Needless to say there's plenty of food for thought in that thar sentence alone.

There's also a sense of "Oh, and another thing..." about this mere 10 days I spent away from "normal life". And yet those "other things" feel like they're waiting for another blog post at another time. So wait they shall - as I wander home across the sands of the wonderous, fabulous Morecambe bay.*

*In case anyone's jumped to the wrong conclusion, I'm talking about the bit of "enclosed" sand which is exposed between the Stone Jetty and the Battery. I haven't taken to cross-bay walks on my own, or, indeed, in company!

Revisiting an old haunt - Burton Manor

Driving back after being part of a Massage stand at a village show in North Wales yesterday, I unexpectedly found myself on a rather familiar stretch of motorway. Although normally I was coming from the other direction and on every previous occasion had been driven (rather than driving myself), the signs towards Hoylake were unmissable. In a matter of seconds my intention to visit Dunham Massey (which had been a rather non-committal intention) was ditched in favour of returning to an old haunt - Burton Manor. I hadn't been since December 2010 but had been thinking of it recently and after a non-starter trip in May, today, unexpectedly, was the day for my return.

I was introduced to Burton Manor by the NO HANDS Mastery Programme in 2007. For 4 years I came here four, sometimes five, times a year, seeing the seasons and gardens change - and seeing the grounds at what felt like every time of the day and night! The days were long (I remember one morning getting up at 6am to walk the length of one of the lawns incredibly slowly, before our 7am Massage; and the late nights were innumerable!) and filled with learning on every level. But the privilege of coming to such a beautiful place and having the gardens to walk in was amazing.

In April 2011 the Manor closed (it had been an adult education residential centre since 1948) and since then the buildings have remained closed while negotiations to sell it (it's currently owned by Liverpool City Council but there have been ongoing negotiations with the University of Chester over the purchase). In the mean time, having secured significant funding and with a team of dedicated volunteers  the gardens have been cared for with several features (notably the walled garden and glass house, and the restored ice house) now open to the public which, when I was last here, were in a very poor state of repair and inaccessible to visitors like me.

The telltale sign that the building is out of action comes in the form of the ivy over the grand face that overlooks the formal gardens. Previously a feature, it's now encroaching on the windows and doorways, in some cases obscuring the glass altogether. There's a sense of the ivy beginning to encase the building and although not overgrown in the way derelict buildings are (and with the juxtaposition of the cared for gardens) the building does feel "quiet". Interestingly, I could quite imagine a group coming out of a door, or sitting down to a meal in the dining room. All the furniture seems still to be in place, laid out almost as if a course is in progress. And yet - no course. No meals. No activity in the house.

Knowing the building has been closed for these past few years makes the change in the gardens (which are generally in a better condition now than they were when I was here before - the main exception being the central borders in the boxes of hedges to either side of the pond which have gone to seed) particularly poignant.

Burton Manor will always hold a special place in my heart and is filled with memories of people, laughter and tears, revelations and achievements. Coming at the end of such an amazing week away somehow feels like exactly the right time for this visit - when or whether I'll be back again remains to be seen but the ghosts it holds for me are certainly happy ones which I'd be happy to revisit again should the opportunity arise.

Hooking into Resources

The big theme at the moment is the power of the mind. Of being in charge from within - rather than looking for change from without. Deciding how I want to respond and being OK with that. There seem to be so many opportunities just opening up with such ease at the moment when they've previously seemed impossible or incredibly hard work. It really does seem to be all downing to timing - and that's timing on my own internal clock, rather than anyone elses.

Another theme is gratitude for the brilliance that I'm party to so much of the time. This week I went to my first belly dancing class in YEARS (I've only ever been to one before and that was about 10 years ago - but I enjoyed it then and have been looking for the chance to hook into a regular class since then) and loved it - plus had a great chat to the teacher. This dance studio is barely 60 seconds walk from where I get to work these days. Ace. I went along to drumming practice on Monday and got to play brilliant rhythms with brilliant people. Indulged in some cinema one evening and got lost in a huge pile of cheesey Americanisms - escapism all the way. And all following having hosted my parents for a couple of days giving them a bit of a mini-break and me the chance to catch up with them without having to spend hours travelling to visit them!

On the gratitude theme, it's difficult, if not impossible, to describe exactly how much I love my water butt right now. It's BRILLIANT. I've lived (some of the time at least) in this house for almost 5 years (wow!) and now, courtesy of my water butt, I'm harvesting rain water which I'm using to water my plants - and even flush my toilet with. My plants are enjoying it as the water isn't treated, and to me it makes them even more "low impact". Yes, I'm having to carry said toilet flushing water up 3 flights of stairs, but still - every "flush" which is courtesy of the water butt (there's something rather poetic about toilets and water butts) saves 10 - 15 L of water needing to be cleaned and piped to my house, just to be flushed away again. Plus it's making my house into even more of a living gym...

Admittedly, finally getting the drain pipe diverter installed has been the cherry on the cake with said water butt - knowing that it'll fill right up without me having to go down and play "empty to the bucket into the water butt because you haven't sorted the diverter yet" every time it's rained is awesome. In fact, it's almost magic. And has cemented in me the idea that cunning engineering of readily available resources is totally where it's at.

I've also been enjoying the fruits of (other people's) allotments this week - primarily potatoes and courgettes from two different friends. (And my own courgette plants seem, finally, to be bringing forth their own courgettes! Whoop!) Cooking meals with such soil-to-plate food is so inspiring - I'm still working on maximising yields from my internal space (there are some really interesting vertical growing systems I've seen but the engineering of those is somewhat beyond my current engineering desires! For now, at least) but even then I've got herbs growing, plenty of spinach, some tomato plants which are going bananas (although may not yield fruit as I'm not sure anything will have pollinated them) and some asparagus plants merrily growing from seed in preparation for about 4 years time for harvesting. Long termism, see?

And as I prepare for a week away, I'm trialling using the hoards of cardboard I have in my basement as a moisture retainer for my indoor plants - using it to protect the soil from direct sunlight (and hopefully reducing evaporation direct from the soil) and also to hold water which can keep the plants going rather than over-doing it on the watering.

So often it's a case simply of recognising the resources to realise they really are all around. And I'm currently loving going through the "recognition" phase :)