A quiet weekend in and around Chez Tigs

So, as friends around me seem to have social calendars fit to bursting I find myself having had a delightfully quiet and easy going weekend, with similar weekends to come over the next few weeks. By delightfully quiet I mainly mean that I spent the whole weekend either in Morecambe or Lancaster, did plenty of pottering around at home and feel wonderfully rested. There have been lots of adventures off and about around the UK this year which have been marvellous - but now I'm much more settled in Morecambe, being able to spend a whole weekend in my own locale is a precious treat.

It's also given me the opportunity to do and reflect on things that might otherwise have been a long time in coming - or had their moment pass entirely. Things which included...

Return of the curtain making
I love sewing. I have 3 sewing machines to my name (not to mention the overlocker) and still aspire to owning a treadle machine (especially now I've had the opportunity to get somewhat familiar with using one while I was in Shropshire). That said, 2 of the aforementioned three do rather need to see a sewing machine engineer and, having got a number of a recommended local engineer, this week may see me putting those digits into my phone and making contact... But this is a distraction. From. The. Curtains.

This weekend's curtains were in fact very straight forward - taking some existing curtains which I'd inherited and adapting them for The Snug. Two things. I wish I could remember where I'd inherited these curtains from. They're gorgeous heavy green fabric with a slight sheen to them and are now adorning three windows in two rooms in my house (with some still left over which I suspect will end up in a new skirt or dress). But, alas, their lineage is lost to me. I live in hope that one day their donator will visit and recognise them. Until then: a mystery.

The second thing. The Snug. I don't entirely know why it became The Snug. Because it's really anything but. A very large room that in the past has been a shop (it's most recent use I've been led to believe was a hairdressers, perhaps 10-15 years ago) and had it's own title deed. It's also a very tall room - possibly the tallest in the house. And with three external walls, even in summer it's not particularly snug. It's also a room which elicits mixed responses: most people love the raised double bed that's in there now, but I've had a friend in the past find it conjured an uneasy vibe. And part of its "unsnugness" was the inspiration for today's curtaining.

But the curtaining doesn't end with the windows. I've made many curtains for my house (and an increasing number for other homes and buildings - one such pair having their Grand Hanging on Friday. Photographic evidence is expected...) and am now plotting another "partition curtain". Part of The Snug's unsnugness comes from trying to heat such a large room. Generally only half of The Snug is in use at any one time so if I can create a large-panel-patchwork extravaganza I may well find myself with a more snug Snug. Which would be nice. But the windows needed to come first. Which they did. And they're done. Which is satisfying.

The Moving of Furniture
Since a young age I've had a penchant for rearranging furniture in my living space. Many were the times I shifted all the items of furniture, including my bunk bed, pretty much solo on a whim one weekend while living at home. Earlier this weekend (I forget exactly when) I realised the work-surface set up I had in The Snug wasn't optimal so after a mid-afternoon bath (it's been that kind of weekend: plus it's the fastest way to warm up in my house without much physical exertion) I had a merry little rearrange.

I'm really pleased with the result and even as I briefly sat at my desk it felt much more satisfying. The room's not entirely finished (curtain aside there's a sofa I need to collect from it's current loan-place so I've got somewhere I can curl up in comfort) but it's significantly closer than it was. Huzzah.

The weekend also included playing with candles as a heat source - current verdict: very positive - and the joys of processing harvests, albeit small. But those delights will have to wait for another moment - other than to say green tomatoes are my favourite new ingredient :)

Bonfires are Magical

I think bonfires are utterly magical. And I have done for years. But for me part of the magic is the fact that they never lose the magic. I've had the great pleasure of being around, feeding, building and generally enjoying bonfires for pretty much as long as I can remember, and yet still, I have more to learn from them.

The "man and fire" connection.

The amazing meditative quality of gazing at a fire as it burns.

The sense of peace evoked by being by a bonfire after darkness has fallen, the moon rising behind it.

And, perhaps most importantly this time round, their beautiful demonstration of the fact that Everything Changes. All The Time.

Some may argue it's somewhat cliched or trite, but change in any and all aspects of life and living is absolutely inevitable. Having spent a week at my parents' in rural Oxfordshire and resurrecting the bonfire ashes several times, these fires have somehow captured my imagination as a stunning example of change. Why?

Maybe it was the huge difference between being around a bonfire, and by being the bonfire builder, nurturer and carer. I hadn't been in the latter position for a while and being back where my bonfiring began was simply marvellous. This time round it was fairly "easy going" bonfiring - there was no big deadline, no pressure but somehow exactly the right amount of stuff to burn. But each day was a different bonfire. How it started. How it burned. How it needed looking after to keep it going. How the embers were left at the end of the night. How the ash pile was the following morning.

Maybe it was the evocation of memories of bonfires past - people who have been part of previous "burnings" and those who never quite made it. Where they are now. What they're up to. Those I'm in touch with - those that I'm not.

And maybe it's simply the fact that bonfires change. Constantly, organically and unerringly - even as ashes there's still an evolution going on. Sometimes the fire's nature is somewhat predictable (watching it build, the flames bursting through occasionally from the bed of hot ashes, anticipating where they'll go next) but there's never absolute certainty as to what will happen next. Bonfires, more than wood burners or even open fires, seem to me to have so much more space for their own way of doing things - the side that will burn more, the influence of the wind. And that freedom to me is what creates the utter mesmeric nature I found myself completely enfolded in as I sat watching.

Bonfires are special. And I think they're magical. But my newfound analogy of their constantly changing, fundamentally unpredictable nature is what's really warming my soul just now.

Lazy Sunday Morning

Having consumed the best part of a large block of tofu for breakfast (why have I not had more scrambled tofu Sunday morning breakfasts in my life to date? Something which shall, henceforth, be rectified) I'm still not particularly inclined to start dashing about. And, gratefully, I have no need to. Huzzah!

"Busy" is a rather non-descriptive term for how my life tends to be. Given it's more interesting when I'm *not* busy. So a better term to use today I think is incessant. Chatting to a friend over some Fentiman's CherryTree cola ("Hello! What's the red Fentiman's, please? Oh, it's a new Cherry cola? Brilliant! One of those please!") yesterday it was her who managed to identify what I'd been up to last weekend - so much has happened since and so much is lined up for the imminent future. There's a definite zest for life at the moment (as opposed to a relentless "just keep going") and with it thoughts mulling in my mind of possibilities - and enjoying making my house more of a home. I've also an acute awareness of "nothing ever stays still" - and the importance to be settled with the changing, while also enjoying memories and nostalgia.

All of which is rather airy fairy compared to drumming in the wind and the rain last night! Batala Lancaster had a gig as part of the warm up for Lancaster City Council's fireworks display from the castle. We played in two of the viewing areas - and arriving at the first in the dark, the rain threatening and the wind whistling, to a crowd of zilch was not one of the most inspiring audiences we've had! But (and it makes me proud to be a part of this brilliant band) we started with gusto at the designated hour and had a crowd of souls who'd come out to brave the elements enjoying the performance. If there's one thing we do exceptionally well, it's bringing energy, enthusiasm and gusto to every gig we do - regardless of the circumstances. Our second set started with a much bigger audience (being that much closer to the start of the fireworks display) but it rapidly became apparent the grass we were playing on had a strong inclination to become mud under our feet. That our caller for that set was completely unaware of that fact and called several of our "moving" numbers just made it all the more amusing!

We had a great reception from the audience and there was quite a lot of "Can I bang your drum?" after the set as many of us were staying for the fireworks. I love playing with Batala. That I'm now beginning to remember the tunes helps, too!

And the fireworks! An impressive display but my favourite of the night were the fireworks that had a large reach of twinkling sparkles cascading down. And no, words don't really do justice to fireworks. After depositing my drum back in another band member's vehicle (after the Ingleton Falls gig I know I *could* cycle to a gig with my drum on my back, but when there's no need to, I don't!) I headed off to the pub, only to discover I was really tired and much more in need of food than I'd given myself credit for. I'm always fascinated by the times when I get a really physical reaction to food (either a lack thereof, or an overload) and last night was certainly one. The fact I had a particularly strenuous cycle home (getting drenched while also battling gusty winds) just added to the craziness.

And the cycle in! Again I got drenched, but this time in an utter downpour during a thunderstorm that was followed by amazing sunshine, a double rainbow and the stunning contrast of autumnal leaves' sparkling colours against the black of a post-thunderstorm sky. That it was then dry for a good 90 minutes after (the ride was about 20 minutes - at least 7 of which were during The Drenching) just reinforced my satisfaction of *not* being a fairweather cyclist.

So now I find myself on a quiet Sunday morning, not quite in the mood to do much other than mooch. Which is pretty much what Sundays were designed for, in my book.

Unexpected Convictions

Turns out I'm more vegan than I thought I was.

I've now been vegan for longer than I haven't been vegan. It's very much become a habit. And most of the time I just get on with it - I do most of my own cooking usually so I simply cook vegan. When I'm out, I hunt down the vegan option (and generally get completely bamboozled when there's more than one option available to me - the notable exception being when I'm at Dandelion and Burdock when the choices fill me with uncontainable joy and delight and I simply get really excitable). And when friends cook for me I'm always incredibly grateful for their thoughtfulness in coming up with something vegan.

Occasionally I have a fleeting craving for something I no longer eat - cakes often feature, occasionally a quiche or an omelette but said cravings rarely last very long. Recently my dedication to being vegan has been particularly challenged by a non-edible, namely the new NO HANDS Massage balm. Therapist friends and colleagues, even my clients (some of whom have bought some for their own home self-care regime), have been singing its praises as a Massage balm, a body lotion, a moisturiser...and yet I'm not using it because it contains a small amount of beeswax. "Is beeswax really so important?" I found a voice inside my head asking.

The jury was still out on the beeswax when I found myself wandering around Ludlow (a veritable foodie-ville in the midst of Herefordshire) and having a whinge at myself. "If I wasn't vegan, I could have that...and that...and that...why do I even bother being vegan anyway?"

It was the closest I'd got to throwing the towel in and just grabbing something (non-vegan) to munch on but there was still a hesitation. And it's timing was poetically brilliant.

Next stop after staying with my friends in Ludlow was a week WWOOFing with a family / community who are aiming to be as self-sufficient as possible. Part of their approach is to keep animals - for eggs, dairy and meat. Again - my timing was impeccable. I happened to be there the one week in the year when they were sending some of their sheep to the abbatoir. Good work, Tigger.

They were very accommodating of my veganism and very kindly limited my WWOOFing duties to non-animal related tasks. But living so "close" to the sounds and smells of farmed animals I found incredibly challenging. Even given the animals were being farmed in a "friendly" way and a very far cry from the intensive meat and dairy production which supplies the majority of meat sold in the UK. This was the first time since being vegan, and possibly even ever, that I'd spent such a length of time in that kind of situation and it really didn't suit me.

It's difficult to explain the whys and wherefores. Other than to say that deep in my guts, deep in my core I felt really uncomfortable. I don't read up on animal farming conditions or farm-to-plate cycles: it's not something I participate in and the times I have investigated it, I've been really upset by what I've found. So I get on with the alternative of not participating.

But one (admittedly anthropomorphising) aspect which was writ large during my stay was that of freedom. I'm incredibly lucky in the level of freedom I have (including living in circumstances that mean I can choose to be vegan) and know that having my freedom curtailed, in any of a multitude of ways, really crushes my soul. So the idea of holding dominion over animals, curtailing their freedom for our own ends really jars. Even bee-keeping includes that aspect (although less obviously than many other forms of animal farming) and so my conviction around beeswax has also been reinforced.

So, unexpectedly, I find myself realising that my veganism is a much deeper part of my convictions than I'd previously given it credit for. That's not to say there aren't issues with being vegan (food miles, Fairtrade, supply chain, packaging...) but for now this is where I stand.

Being vegan is important to me, but pro-actively "converting" the general populace is not really on my agenda. If asked, I'll gladly discuss my reasons for being vegan. But the idea of barging into people's lives to tell them what they should or shouldn't eat doesn't appeal. I see so many hang-ups around food - if someone is happy and healthy with getting on with how they are, I'm not interested in upsetting the applecart for the sake of it. I enjoy the conversations exploring different choices with people, but only when the time is right.

The place to start with change is with myself and I know my veganism has challenged stereotypes held by friends and family and encouraged a more open consideration of veganism, as well as some familiarity of the issues faced. But the reality I've discovered in the past few weeks is that it's my personal conviction that keeps me vegan. I hadn't expected that conviction to run so deep but the realisation that it does is certainly useful information as I consider other aspects of my life and new, diverse possibilities for the future.

The wonders of mid-Wales WWOOFing

The clouds are hanging heavy and there's a slight mist in the air (I refuse to believe it's started raining) as I sit beside Lake Vyrnwy in mid-Wales. I started my day about an hour further south but stumbled across a rather wonderful sounding between-WWOOF-hosts possibility: a country hotel and spa that took day guests. My kind of place. After my usual fun and games on little unexpected roads with my sat nav (much like my tablet PC, I feel my sat nav should have a name. I have yet to find its name, which is slightly frustrating, but I'm sure it'll come about soon. Maybe I'll call it Bert. Who knows) I arrived here a couple of hours ago and have thoroughly heated myself through and through. Brilliant.

The hotel has a brilliant position looking down the lake (I keep wanting to call it a loch...right island, wrong country) and, in fact, from the spa it's possible to walk directly out into the fresh October air and gaze at a rather beautiful tower about half way down the lake. This tower became the object of my adventuring as soon as I saw it so having got to the point of wanting to do some doing I popped my robe back in the locker and wandered down along the lake.

Now, as it turns out, the tower (as is possibly to be expected of a large reservoir-looking-lake) is part of the mechanics of this particular body of water, the "straining tower" apparently and is the sole dominion of a certain water company I used to work for. Ho hum. Would have made a brilliant "unusual holiday cottage" and perhaps one day still will. I am curious as to whether it actually has much in the way of machinery inside (it being a rather substantial tower) but suspect that's a curiosity that won't get resolved today.

I really do feel incredibly grateful to be able to take holidays like this. I get so much from WWOOFing - the time to reflect and challenge my ideas is wonderful, as well as trying out "other possibilities" in terms of ways of doing things. The clarity I'm getting from it is wonderfully constructive (and just wonderful in its own right) and, if its possible, I have even more ideas brewing than ever (having knocked some off the list along the way - it's not all "add, add, add".

The ponderance most at the forefront of my thoughts currently  is most easily summarised by the idea of our "footprint" on the earth (carbon and otherwise) - and about making the change at home but being aware of the global impact and struggles that are going on. This is certainly a ponderance which has some way to go yet, and could be a lifetime's ponderance all in its own right, but as I try out different lifestyles (albeit for very short stretches of time) I challenge what I require, as well as what I'm most comfortable with. Yes, I can live in quite extreme conditions but actually, there are a whole range of creature comforts I'm rather fond of. Getting clear on those comforts before stripping them away irreversibly seems like an imminently valuable prospect!

So thank you pllanet - and all who've played a part in my life to date. I'm in a really good spot just now and looking forward to the adventures ahead.

(Unfortunately, as it turns out from the walk back, the hotel really isn't an addition to the aesthetics of the valley at all...)

From one Berrington Hall to another

Well, not quite! My latest "Adventures in Tigger's parallel universe" have very much begun, with a rather stop-start journey on Friday (useful stops, but it made the day feel like it went on forever) leading to a wonderful couple of days with friends just outside Ludlow. Great company, wonderful food (including an apple, damson and dried fruit puff pastry turnover...and I got one to take away too! Amazing!) and the opportunity to do some Massage in my friend's wonderful "Shed".

On leaving I didn't feel quite ready simply to head off to my first WWOOFing destination of the holiday, and ended up detouring to Berrington Hall II (as it shall always be known in my head), fairly local to my friends and definitely not the Berrington Hall I was at in August (or will be at later this holiday). Absolutely amazing contrast - two very different Berrington Halls, even before you consider their current uses (one's National Trust, the other a community that's been going for almost 40 years). Lots of thoughts at the moment about self sufficiency, what it means and what's possible (I got to pick my first cobnuts yesterday. It was ace!) but generally just overall enjoyment of OutsideNess.

[about 50 hours later] And now I find myself rather amused by the fact I've just used a soap from a tin with a sheep on, in the depths of sheep farming country (the soap and tin I've owned - but only now started using - for well over a decade, if not two). It's the little things that do it for me.

More importantly, however, was the fact that I've just had a wonderful hot shower. Some days I can give or take a shower - but this evening after some unseasonably warm days the cold seemed to descend with the misly misty rain and a warming shower was perfect.

I'm currently in mid-South-Wales (I'm sure there's an official term, but it's the southern bit of Wales, and in the middle - it could also be south Mid-Wales...I'm unsure of the geopolitical boundaries on this one. And now I look at what I've written, I should probably also qualify that it's definitely not New South Wales!) on week one of the aforementioned WWOOFing destinations. A farm that was derelict for 20-30 years, the host I'm staying with has been here for around 25 years and in that time has pretty much started from the ground up (or, in the case of the derelict farmhouse, the oak timber frame that was the only thing still standing).

It's hard to imagine what the site would have been like when they first arrived as they've done a huge amount of work creating planting schemes, vegetable beds, structures and much more besides. There's an old chapel as part of the site and although that has been deconsecrated, the graveyard beside it is still in use (although new additions seem to be few and far between). And, in fact, the chapel was a feature of my work today - given that I spent a few hours this afternoon sitting cross-legged on the slate-flag floor plaiting onions into, well, onion plaits. Not something I've done before but I did find it rather enjoyable - I'm not sure whether I'll get to finish the job (each day's activities are very subject to change so although I have another 3 working days here, I may or may not be back in the chapel) but I certainly made a dint. I also remembered to take some photos but have yet to work out the camera-to-tablet synchronisation, so they may have to wait until my return home!

This host keeps a fair amount of livestock (along with their purely vegetative endeavours) which has provided more food for thought (no pun intended). The other WWWOOFer who's here at the moment is vegetarian, not vegan like me, and she's been enjoying having the opportunity to make butter and cheese, along with milking the cows. The issue of surviving on only what I could produce myself from a plot in the UK is continuing to be an interesting reflection, but being around livestock is highlighting the fact that, for now at least, my desire for a vegan lifestyle is strong and my interest in various vegetable protein sources is continuing to be piqued (see cobnut reference above - huzzah!)

I've also been getting more committed to investigating forest gardening as an approach to food production, over planting annuals, year on year. But more than that, the aspiration for self-sustainability is a fascinating one, given the "creature comforts" and level of diverse interests and possibilities that the developed world current offers. And if truth be told, I'm not sure I'd want to be a full time market gardener, even if it was only to produce my own food. The scale of food production is rather different with this host as they're a larger family unit than solo me (plus they have a LOT of WWOOFers to feed thoughout the year) but even so, planting and tending and harvesting the same veg year on year doesn't appeal. Whereas tending perennials, and bushes and trees really does. All part of the mix!

But for now, I'm tucked up nice and warm in the old granary (which is a twin room for WWOOFers - and given there are only 2 of us on site at the moment, I've got it all to myself) and looking forward to a good night's rest.

More adventures in a parallel universe

When it feels like the world is rushing by in a blur of activity and happenings and Things To Do it's hard to know where to start. And that's exactly how things feel at the moment. Drumming, WWOOFing, cancellations, new plans - it's all there in technicolor but until now it hasn't translated into a blog.

I had every intention of taking a chunk of time on my way home from the WWOOF AGM (about 10 days ago) to collect my thoughts but somehow I wasn't in the right frame of mind. The intensity of happenings at the moment means it's taking that bit longer to mull said goings on...and by the time I've mulled, another bag load of things have happened! The "simplicity" of the drumming at Ingleton Falls at the weekend somehow made scribing about it easier, but the time has come to dig into the memory cells to capture what was another fabulous weekend and adventure - and look forward to the next!

Since my first "proper" WWOOFing experience in August, I feel like my eyes have been opened to a completely different way of approaching "living" (in particular housing arrangements and work) and so for the time being there's a since of living two parallel lives - my existing one, and the times I dip into this parallel universe of living in community, working the land and seeing the world through completely different "lenses". The chance to touch in with the organisation that facilitated this awakening at their AGM seemed like a complete no brainer (especially when it was being held at a fascinating looking community in southern Scotland) and so Adventure-Dumfries was born.

As with all adventures in the Golden Chariot I wanted to make the most of the places I was passing on my way up and back, and on this occasion that involved two National Trust properties and a Massage with a NO HANDer who I hadn't seen for a while but really enjoyed catching up with. The Massage was brilliant but, alas, I was somewhat underwhelmed by the two National Trust properties. I don't want to lay the blame on the less-than-summery-weather as I don't think that was it, and they certainly had merit in themselves. But I've got so used to falling completely in love with the properties I've visited to date that the fact these ones somehow just didn't tug the heart strings in the same way was a little disappointing. That said, I did meet some fabulous little owls in "art in the woods" which was fun.

But the reason for the trip: the AGM. Well, the gathering which had the AGM as part of it :) 

Which.

Was. 

Brilliant.

Hosted at a beautiful old country house which has been functioning as a community for 40 years (the building itself has parts which date back to the 16th century and a more recent "extension" which was built barely 30 or 40 years before the house went from being a residence to being a hospital - one which took consumptives, no less!) we were incredibly well looked after by our hosts. Not only were the beds comfy and the food fantastic (and they did me vegan puddings! Anywhere that does vegan pudding wins prizes as far as I'm concerned), but there were members of the community on "being available to answer questions, queries or offer general assistance" duty right the way through the day and fairly late on into the evening. It all fitted together so beautifully - fabulous.

Having the opportunity to meet and hear from others who'd attended the AGM (members of the board of directors, other WWOOFers like me, hosts, staff) gave me a real sense of the deeper ethos behind WWOOFing. I've known about WWOOFing for years, but when I first got involved at the beginning of the year my main drive was simply to get out and get my hands in the soil. Spending time listening to others' motivations, challenges and desires for WWOOF as an organisation has given me a much greater depth of understanding of this constantly evolving community I'm now a part of. And highlighted the divisions language can create: by specialising our knowledge it's very easy to get channelled down a track which may seem very different from the next person's view of the world, but in fact there are so many overlaps - it's just a case of taking a breath and looking for them.

Alongside the "business" I met a whole host of brilliant people, got to dance with lots of them at one of the best ceilidhs I've been to in ages (my general sense of "This is all BRILLIANT!" may well have contributed to that), took a barefoot walk to the loch and back early one morning (my feet certainly knew about it by the time I was home - a lot of the return journey was on a forestry-type track which was rather lacking in soft patches of grass for me to stepping-stone along), spent wonderful hours by the bonfire listening, chatting, gazing at the stars and even went on a late night adventure to find the sauna (which, sadly, wasn't in operation at the time but when I found it again in the daylight was an even more brilliant set up than I'd realised in the gloaming of the nighttime). AND I got expert advice on pulling up brambles! (It's all about loosening the roots then grabbing the plant by the chunk of roots under the surface, rather than just tugging the "above ground" bits. Who knew?!)

I've a sense of all these memories from the weekend still settling in and embedding themselves into different bits of my brain - but I'm definitely sold on WWOOF AGMs!