Ziggy The Hairy Dragon Baby

I have got a new flatmate and to say that Ziggy approves is an understatement. For once I didn't have to play the flatmate lottery (which sucks by the way) and it ended up that a friend was looking a place to stay. That friend is Gus who I play geetar with and who makes me laugh and who Ziggy adores so it is a win win situation for all parties. 'Cause, y'see, I'm a girl who's all about the music and the laughing and making sure my dog is happy. And yet, that desire to make everyone happy never leaves me.

I am back at class and loving it. I have a driving lesson booked for tomorrow. I haven't been driving since September so I expect to be a bit rusty but I'm hoping I'll be a little more confident and assertive this time round. My course has been helping me work on these issues that I've struggled with in many aspects of my life. There is also this amazing feeling of knowing that I'm exactly where I'm meant to be. At the right time, with the right people. I'm glad the wrong people left my life. Even if it hurt at the time.

I feel it's worth mentioning that this time last year I was trying to be hopeful but it was hard. I'd just come out of a relationship and I had no idea what had happened. My head kept telling me what I should be doing but my heart was heavy and did not want to listen to my head. At the time I felt that if I just had closure I could move on and let go of the hurt. I wasn't going to get closure the way that I wanted though and I fought a long hard battle with myself to find peace within. I won the battle though! I accepted that I had to find my own closure.

It's safe to say I truly have my closure now. Both within myself and in the good old traditional sense that I had hoped so hard for (no joke, if you really, really want something you'll get it in the end, you might just have to wait a year, or two, or thirty). I've ordered my Littlest Hobo t.shirt "Maybe tomorrow....I'll wanna settle down". Ziggy just so happens to be getting cuter by the day and now that he can roll over I think he's maybe ready for his acting career to take off. There's been a fair few local bearded men, including Gus, who have played extras in The Game of Thrones so expect to see Ziggy playing some kind of hairy dragon baby in the next series.

What It Means To Me

It was a year ago that I stumbled upon a book in the library called The Indigo Adult. It came at a time when I needed answers and it most certainly gave me a lot of comfort. I wrote a little bit about it, about what it meant to me, and then I never mentioned it again (on my blog at least - poor Jakers is sick hearing about Indigos). The reason for that was because it was a concept I was still exploring. And that's all it is, a concept. I joined a group on Facebook and learnt a lot more about what it means to other people to be an Indigo. I wasn't sure if I liked it all. Too many people claiming that they were Indigo when others were not. Too many people telling others what they should and shouldn't be doing. But, essentially, it's an arena for learning and if you can take everything with a pinch of salt there is much learning to be gained.

For example, a lot of people focus on an Indigo's psychic abilities. This was never an interest of mine. And a lot of Indigo's believe that they come from other planets (so they get labelled crazy). Each to their own, I don't care if someone came from the sewers or the moon they all deserve the same respect. I don't feel like I am the same as others but I still believe that I came from the same place as them.

So what does it mean to me to be an Indigo? It just means that I can vision the world how it should be. Many people can. Except, maybe the difference is that people don't believe they have the power to change anything. It is easier to go with the crowd, follow rules and believe everything we're told. I can vision the world how it is meant to be and I believe that the world, or rather the people in it, will get there some day. I really believe this. I have to believe it otherwise I just wouldn't want to be here. I have to believe that when I bring a child into this world I am bringing them into a place of hope and possibility. Essentially, that's what it boils down to. I take comfort in being an Indigo because it gives me hope. And it excites me. In a world where people are so cynical.

I think I have come to this place in my life because I was bored of the norm. My most favourite book, The Alchemist, spoke of travel, adventure, magic, treasure and being connected with the soul of the universe. It was written beautifully, by a man who wanted to share the beauty he saw in the world. It gave me something to believe in. Everything happens for a reason, the universe is there to guide you and help you. Also, the fact remains that strange things happen in my life and I enjoy looking for the meaning in these events. It is no secret that I love a good jigsaw puzzle. Well, I like to put all the pieces of my life together to see the bigger picture and, quite often, I'm blown away.

The Accuser's Dog

Oh the abuse Ziggy had to put up with the other night! It was not physical abuse but emotional and it troubled him not in the slightest. I was obviously upset on his behalf but then I was feeling somewhat fragile after being struck down with a boking lurgy. I am seldom sick. This is because my brain is very good at communicating with my stomach and it tells my stomach not to reject food because my throat and mouth don't like the feeing of half digested food travelling down my gullet in the wrong direction. Ziggy was first accused of being stinking (it was, in fact, the accusers dog who was stinking and this was verified by a number of independent invigilators who, willingly, sniffed both dogs). Then he was accused of his anal glands bursting. I'm not sure if this is just a professor's way of saying he'd farted or if the person saying it actually thought his anal glands had burst. The accuser's dog harassed Ziggy all night. Ziggy didn't mind but the accuser did. She thought perhaps, her dog had remembered the time when Ziggy had humped him and was trying to get pay back. I think the dog was just besotted with Ziggy because he's so damn cool. While the accuser's dog was 'rimming' Ziggy (the accuser's words, not mine) she yelled "What's he doing!? Is he trying to eat worms out of Ziggy's bum?"

Ziggy does not have worms. Nor had his anal glands burst and I'd bathed him the night before so he smelt fresh as a daisy. Never mind the fact that all of this was not the appropriate kind of chat for someone with a delicate stomach. The accuser is not a bit wise but humble enough to admit that she was protagonising because she was suffereing from dog envy. Her dog is lovely too. And Ziggy was so tired after his harassing that he lay on my chest with he wee snout buried in my neck.

I'm back to school next week and I can't wait. And every one I know, including myself, seems to be starting the new year feeling hopeful and excited about what lies ahead. I haven't spoken much about matters of the heart lately, and that's because I needed to focus on the silly side of life, but I can feel a stirring in my soul and it seems the universe really is conspiring to help me.

Tom Cruisin' It

Isn't it Sod's law that after years and years of owning a bog standard phone, as soon as I get a newfancy one I start being very careless. There was the time I lost it in work and it was found by a manager in amongst the cheese. I lost it a few weeks ago but it was in my friend's car. Yesterday something worse happened. New T.Shirts had arrived in work and I was rooting through the box for a small size. They were all gone and I said to my manager that the boys were probably taking them to show off their muscles. It was tea time and I'd just walked upstairs and into the toilets. My phone beeped. I read the text message, which was from my boss telling me she'd found a small t.shirt and had it stashed away for me. I put the phone in my pocket, flushed the toilet and felt my phone slip from my pocket down the toilet. My second Trainspotting Moment. The phone seems to be alright. It's a bit glitchy but I can make phonecalls and texts and check the net. I have said before that I just don't believe in insurance.

Ziggy and I are both pretty scunnered with the weather now. I have relaxed a bit with walking him everyday, as long as he never goes two days in a row without a decent walk and they days he doesn't get I make sure I have visitors round to play with him. On Wedensday I went to the Lovely Mel's for lunch. Her mum has two black and tan Jack Russell bitches called Smudge and Midge, or Fudge and Smidge, I can never get it right. Luckily for me Ziggy is always on his best behaviour when we visit other dog's houses (except for his Granny's) and he behaved like a perfect gentleman, despite Smudge barking at him incessantly the whole time he was there. I was glad to see someone else's dog be neurotic for a change.

In the pipeline for 2015 will hopefully be more music making, more laughing, a day-in-the-life video of what Ziggy gets up to at his Granny's house, hanging with the eldest niece every Thursday for the next month or so (I have alrady learned how to play 'Let It Go' from Frozen so M and I can perform it), PASSING MY DRIVING TEST, further consideration of illustrators for various children's book projects, adventuring (a trip to Buckna does me these days), and general happiness. And no doubt 2015 will throw some romance my way which I will mention every once in while, cryptically, in case it all blows up in my face. It's just not cool to do a Tom Cruise on your blog.

The World's Tiniest Frog

I was going to write about Christmas but it was dull. It's over, I survived, yay! New Year was less dull but not worthy of a write up. It was a strange night but good. So, instead I will write about an app that I got for my phone. Jakers was here the other night and he scoffed at my new app, which tells your mood by scanning your thumb. Of course it's a load of bullshit but I made Jakers do it anyway. My mood was passionate. I hoped Jakers didn't think I was gonna pounce on him. He tried it out and the app told him he was yearning. He scoffed at this notion. I tried it again and got confident. Yep, confident that this app was the real deal. Jakers tried it again and got confrontational. Which he was being. To prove the authenticity of the device I scanned Ziggy's paw. He was feeling whimsical. Jakers had one more go and the app told him he was feeling brittle. That's how one can sometimes feel after being confrontational.

Well, 2014 was an interesting year. I had a lot of fun, climbing trees and making music with Gus, and finding the world's tiniest frog (maybe if I'd have kissed it it would have turned into my very own little prince). I had some sadness letting go of people who no longer served me and that seemed to be the strongest message of all for 2014. But, I also learned how to work on the relationships that I know are important and I met some kindred spirits last year who I'm going to get to know a whole lot better this year.

I also watched my wee pup grow up into a young dog. For every bad habit he let go of he picked up a new one and I have learnt that Ziggy is just a tiny dog with one hell of an attitude. Last week he rolled over for Jakers. Now he rolls over for me too. The trick he always refused to do even though he knew how. He grows softer in his old age and he likes to be close to me. I don't need to kiss the world's tiniest frog cos I've got my own little prince right here.

Christmas Has Started

So that's all the work finished for Christmas. All the school work and all the work work (which has been horrendous) and I am back home from my last shift just sitting here going "phew!". I'll have a snooze in a bit because I'm going out tonight for our work xmas dinner. This time last year kinda passed by in a blur. We have decided this year to not have our christmas dinner in the treehouse. Really, it was a lot of hassle bringing all the food and plates up and we didn't light the fire in time for it to be properly cosy and, well, my heart was broken and chicken and stuffing were not going to mend it. That was last year though and this year my heart is beating strong.

All the coursework was very tiresome. I love my course and I love learning and I love writing. I just hate doing it when I know I have to do it and when I have to do it in a certain timeframe. I'm not sure that will ever change. Maybe when I'm 70. We had a lovely last day of class eating party food and doing secret santa. I'm happy that I've got another few years with this crew. My coping strategy at work this past week has been to laugh as much as possible.

I was mostly organised with christmas presents this year. Mostly, I don't think I've ever got it perfect. There's always presents lying around in the springtime. I have some wrapping to do tomorrow. I hope I'm not too hungover. Ziggy is out at his granny's. He has been a little cantankerous of late and barking at people in the street. I'm not sure what's ailing him but I hope he winds his neck in. A cross, yappy little dog is not what I want. I miss my happy, friendly little puppy! I think he might be a bit fed up with the pishy, rainy weather. Well, I guess it's nap time for me :)

For Tomorrow

Aha! Some dude (John Perry) has written a book on the Art of Procrastination! I knew there was a purpose to it. My mate told me he had borrowed a book from the library about proccrastination and how to overcome it. Of course, he hasn't read it yet. I don't know what Perry says about it but I am coming up with my own theory that centres around me not feeling bad for not doing the things I'm supposed to be doing. It goes like this: Procrastination is a modern day concept born out of the illusion of time. The notion of 'time' has changed since man was a more simple being. Time was told by the sun and the seasons. Now time is told by numbers (grrr...numbers!) Cavemen did not procrastinate. They did not put off hunting because they were too busy scratching their bums. So, if procrastination is a symptom of modern day society, it is nothing more than a social construct, in which case, it can be deconstructed (Yeah! We're gonna break that bitch down!) Procrastination is just another word we use to make ourselves feel bad. The word itself comes from the Latin pro meaning 'forward' and crastinus meaning 'of tomorrow' so to put another spin on that, it means putting something off 'til tomorrow and that's a good thing because that means you have faith that tomorrow will come.

I think it's good to take the pressure off and go with the flow and believe that things will happen when they're meant to happen. My tutor last year always used to say "trust the process" and "don't force anything". Why we battle with ourselves internally is a mystery. Always believing we should be doing this, that or the other instead of just doing what we want to do. And sometimes we want to build virtual cities and breed virtual fish and then blog about the whole exciting experience.

Is it obvious that I'm putting off doing my final piece of coursework? I did feel it was very important to write this blog. And play guitar. And drink some wine.

Some Dude Once Said

I must have a quota for how many words I can write in a week. Like an inbuilt one. The poor old blog has had to take a back seat to coursework. Not that it matters much really. And at least I'm keeping busy. I had a wonderful week off work. It involved drinking lots of coffee, staying up late, seeing a few friends, and getting horribly engrossed in a fish tycoon type game. Really, I should have known better. Luckily, though, I was silly enough to download a link that was offering "unlimited metro money" and got myself a nice virus to contend with. That knocked the silly game on the head and taught me the importance of updating my spyware and reinforced the saying that if something looks too good to be true, it probably is.

I don't care for that saying though. I have been shocked at how time consuming my coursework has been. I guess that's because the first time round doing a degree I didn't have to go out and earn a living. And I didn't have a dog that needed walked for an hour everyday. Haha, I recall a time when I longed to write an essay! But as with most things I was all gung ho at the start and when it came to it I was put off by the prospect of having to research. That's the only think that makes me get through the counselling course, the fact that the research I'm doing is into myself and I'd kinda started that anyway. I am out of practice writing academically though and I forgot what a chore referencing is! I was never good at referencing because I was always too lazy to find the source and recalled on my own memory which was hazy at best. I rely on "some dude once said....I think it was kung fu panda but I could be wrong".

Making A Real Pig's Ear Of It

I really am starting to be more honest with myself. For example, I tell myself I am a very patient person, and I suppose I am in a lot of ways, like I'm much more tolerant of people and they foibles than others and, even if I am feeling the stress of impatience I don't let it show. Today, in work, it was tough going. Soooo many people, so many trollies, so much ducking and diving and squeezing (at one point a lady pushed her trolley tight into the aisle so it wouldn't be in the way of others but she failed to notice that she had also pushed me tight into the aisle.) That wasn't when my patience ran out though. This was at the very end of my shift and I realised I'd lost my phone. Remember that new smart phone I got a while back? The one that tied me onto a contract for two years and I thought, what the hey? I have a dog I might as well have a phone contract! Well, we have an app on our phones that helps us to check if things are in stock and it's definitely made things a lot easier but when I lost my phone I was in despair. I would never have my phone on the shop floor if it wasn't for my manager encouraging everyone to use the app. I thought I was going to have to pay £12.50 for the next year and a half without the luxury of a nice phone. Of course I didn't have insurance. I laugh in the face of insurance. Then there was the fact that I didn't know anybody's number and I'd have to go to the phonebox to call mum and tell her the sad, sad news (I am laughing as I write this).

So I was miserable and feeling sorry for myself and a tear rolled down my cheek. Several people helped me look for it. My wee work mammy was away home early so someone else acted as my surrogate work mammy and marched me to the phone shop to cancel my contract. Then the word spread that my phone had been found! I was so relieved I thought it unimportant to dwell on the fact that I very nearly had a meltdown over the fact that I'd lost a stupid phone. But, why be hard on myself? Better just to learn the lesson and be happy that everything worked out ok.

It has to be said though, I can take no more today and Ziggy has decided he's going to be a pain in the ass. It's been so long since I had to send him to bed that he's pretending he doesn't know what it means anymore. I've bribed him with as a pig's ear which he's demolished already. Now I think I might have got him into some kind of Zen-like way of being.

Clean Rotten

Anyone who knows me will know I'm a nemophilist. I put this down to being raised by hippies but it's also an innate part of me. Like I was an Ewok in a past life or something. For several years now I have been working towards a sophrosyne. I believe this can be achieved through balance and acceptance and, of course, my counselling course is helping me with that. I am a very feeling person and I get excited and passionate easily. I have been affected by not just my own erlebrusse but others'. Sometimes this leaves me koyaanisqatsi and I feel a real fernweh. I feel like I need to be on an adventure. But I hold onto a meliorism and sometimes I am so convinced of this that I am filled with vorfreude. There is the hope and possibility of magic. Anything could happen. I am reminded of my smultronstalle and life is strange and good and weird and fun. I am aware of the sillage of everyone I've ever met, the imprint it left on me. And sometimes,when I'm lucky, I experience a mamihlapinatapai.

One of my favourite websites is stumbleupon because you can learn so much from it. I found this list of unusual words and I decided I'd write a little paragraph using them. So if you need the dictionary here it is. I am completely fascinated by words and language. I always find it funny that we have several sayings here in Ballymena that could be confusing for others. For example, if something is dirty we say it is "clean stinking" or "pure rotten" and if something is amazing we say it is "deadly good" or "weak good".

I am convinced that there was a third part of this post but I've forgotten it. I'm too tired to try to retrieve it so I'll leave it there.

So There You Jolly Well Flippin' Well Blinkin' Well Go

My mind is a strange, strange place. F'rinstance, while walking Ziggy the other day I had a peculiar thought about different types of swearing and the effect it would have on young children. Children who are at an age where they know some things but not most things (though we are always at that age really). There's plain swearing like; shit, f**k, bastard, c**t (that's the order my ma likes to use). Then there's the more colourful style of swearing and this is where it might get confusing for kids. For example, 'Bloody Hell' might seem more tame than 'F**k's Sake' but imagine the visual image it can conjure up for a child. Firey pits of hell, with people screaming and blood EVERYWHERE. Some people like to say 'Holy F**k!' This is confusing and misleading to a child who knows that 'f**k' is a bad word but 'holy' is a good word. Of course, if a child is brought up without those religious connotations then swearing would just be swearing. Plain old swearing. Which I'm not condoning by the way.

Anyway, the thought that lead to those other thoughts was of my mum, who likes to say, 'So there you jolly' well, flippin' well, blinkin' well go' and it made me smile. And there ya go!

Night In With Neighbours (Not The Twits)

There's that boy Fly again. Super handsome pooch. Ziggy wants to be just like him. As Ziggy grows older I see the dynamics changing. He still adores Judy and Jess but they grew tired of him long ago. Jess doesn't play with him so much. Luckily for Ziggy, Fly is always up for larking around. I have also noticed that Ziggy and Maya, my sister's dog, have become very fond of each other.

I know that Ziggy has grown up because I very rarely send him to bed these days. In fact, I would say that has something to do with the departure of Meka. I wonder if he is better behaved because he thinks in, his little doggy head, that I could very easily get rid of him. Maybe it's just coincidental. He still likes to bark at nothing sometimes but he's a good boy mostly. Older niece agrees with me and I never ask her if Ziggy was a good boy at Granny's anymore. I used to ask her this every Thursday and her answer was always "no" followed by the exact reason why he wasn't a good boy.

We do miss Meka. Ziggy was unsettled for a couple of nights when she went. It took me two weeks to finally take her cage down and give it to Jakers. That was part laziness and part holding on to her and, if I'm totally honest, I'd say it was 70% laziness 30% holding on. I did toy with the idea of getting a couple of baby rats because I thought that they would probably be even closer to Ziggy and sleep curled up in his fur. Then I went to the pet shop and saw two adults who needed to be adopted because nobody wanted them and I thought if I was going to get more rats I'd be better to take the ones nobody wanted. And then I told myself to wise up I had enough to contend with looking after Ziggy.

It's Saturday night again. I have no plans as yet but the night is young. The night is young though I am old. Or at least my body is old and I was partying last Saturday and Wednesday night so if I spend an evening watching old episodes of Neighbours I'll be content.

A Post About Nothing

Well, life is interesting at the minute! I'm busy but not so busy that I don't have time to bless myself. I just don't have much to write about. The interesting stuff is top secret and requires more information than I care to share but things are, once again, making a lot of sense. I have always believed myself to an ok communicator but there is always room for improvement and I have had quite a lot of conversations recently that have made me realise that I am progressing. I have reconnected with some important people.

I still feel very overwhelmed at times. Just because I am who I am and I do care so much about everyone and everything.

I guess that's why I don't have much to write about, because I'm having all these conversations with different people and I really feel like I'm getting somewhere. There's a lot of laughter and hope. There's a lot of honesty and that's the thing that makes me smile. People are talking to me from their hearts and that's all I've ever wanted.

And music and dance are just as good as writing and words.

Super Pooch

This week has been productive. I got Ziggy's dog licence renewed (that means it's been a year since the Twits complained about Ziggy's early morning barking), oil to heat the house, issues in work sorted and I even had time to squeeze in a coffee date. I also caught up with Gus and we worked on the blues song, which has yet to be named. The course is going great and I've handed in my first bit of homework. I am very much the same kind of student I was 10 years ago, and that is the kind that leaves everything to the last minute. That's ok though because I procrastinate in style and I'm continously doing "research".

Last week went by in a flurry of annoyances at work and catching up with family. I had some class mates round for drinks on Wednesday night and I had pizza and cider with some work mates on Saturday night. When you're young you just have mates. When you get to a certain age you start to define your mates by how you know them. I still long for the day when I can write..."on Tuesday I went to the forest and climbed trees with my soul mates." It'll happen, I know it will.

Ziggy is officially no longer a devil dog. He is a super pooch. He has learned to relax more and he has realised it's nice to cuddle beside me. Our bond grows stronger every day and I no longer feel guilty for leaving the house without him. He is much more accepting than I ever gave him credit for. Also, the flatmate keeps him company a lot of the time. He has become the dog I dreamed of and, despite this, I found myself looking at him the other night and mourning his puppyhood. We humans are very strange indeed.

Whisky Dog Blues

Although I haven't been doing much blogging lately I've been keeping busy with music and a bit of photography. Oh, and my course, which is a vast change from last year which was 3 hours every week. I now wake up for work every Monday, start at 6 in the morning, work until 12:30 and then go to class which is from 1-9. It's a long day but I enjoy it. Gus and I wrote a blues song on Sunday. The first line is "I should have drank more whisky last night, so I wouldn't drink so much today"

I don't know what these flowers are but they were growing on amongst my sister's vegetables

This handsome boy is Fly. Ziggy adores him.

This is Willowherb. I thought it looked nice and fluffy.

Ziggy peers off into the horizon keeping his eyes peeled for The Enemy.

Meka Moo

For the first time in 4 years the rat cage lies empty. Meka was the last. My little champion and warrior. I had her put down yesterday because she was growing lumps everywhere and it was only a matter of time before the cancer would have caused her suffering. The reason she is my little warrior is because she survived several things in her short life. She survived major surgery when she had a lump on her chest. She also survived the death of her sister Polly. Rocky had to cope with the loss of his sister, Pepe, but he was never the same rat after and he died a year later. Meka, on the other hand, missed the company of her sister but continued to take pleasure out of life. It wasn't too long before Ziggy came along to keep Meka company and she accepted him just like he was a giant rat. She let him into her cage, she groomed him, she tolerated his rough playfulness. In the earlier days she would get up on her hind legs and look him square in the eye. Ziggy always backed down.

She was the sweetest little rat. When we first got her she was nervous and stuck close to Rocky. Her sister Polly was always the brave one, adventuring and escaping. But Meka was curious, and always much more active than Polly. After she had her surgery Meka became much braver and more interested in humans, not just me. My bond with her grew then because I sensed that she knew I had done a good thing for her by getting the lump removed and she seemed to trust humans in general. It such a nice feeling when a small animal places their trust in you. Meka, as a youngster, was super cute and she liked to crawl around my head and neck and sniff in my ears and up my nose. She also liked to play with my wet hair after I'd had a shower. She was a greedy minx and when food was put into the bowl she would grab all the best bits and hoard it at the bottom of the cage. She continued this habit even when she didn't have other rats to contend with.

So here's to Meka, and Pepe, Rocky and Polly too. I hope some day to have rats again but, for now, I'd like to save a space in my heart in case a stray dog happens to stumble on my path :)

Every Little T'ing's Gonna Be Alriiight

I was off work on Thursday so I had a lazy morning with Ziggy on the sofa. Then we went for our walk. It was a beautiful, hazy sunny day and Ziggy and I were both in fine form. I then went up the town to get stationary and folders for my course starting on Monday. It had been ages since I'd been up the town. It had been ages since I spent any money. I came back home and N called round and we took Ziggy to Portglenone forest. I wanted to find a log to sit on so we followed a pixie trail that led us to the perfect log. We sat for a while, chatting and enjoying the serenity of the forest.

Later that evening I went out for hot chocolate and ice cream with a few girls from work. They are all at least 7 years younger than me but I didn't really notice until they started talking about all the hot actors they fancied and as they showed me pictures of these dudes on their phones I realised that I had never heard tell of them. Also, they weren't that hot. But I am always complaining that I don't get to hang out with girls enough so it was nice to do something with them.

On Friday, after work, I went for a session of reiki. I paid £20 for an hour of bliss. It really was so relaxing. I lay down on the bed and he placed crystals on the 7 points of my body that represented the 7 chakras. Then he placed his hands on the crown of my head. I have always liked being touched on the head but when he placed his hands on me I felt like I was being cocooned in the most comforting way imaginable. He then alternated placing his hands between my head and shoulders. At one point I became aware that I wanted him to place his hands on my forehead and, without saying anything, he did. I also felt that I needed the sides of my face, my ears and cheeks, to be touched and again, he instinctively knew to place his hands there. He worked down through the body and when he touched my feet it also felt strangley comforting and relaxing and I also noticed the heat of his hands more. But, without a doubt, my head seemed to benefit the most from it.

Afterwards he was able to tell me the things he picked up on. He too had noticed that there was a lot of healing taking place around my head. He could sesne that I was a deep thinker and my mind was like a washing machine. He asked me if I had any trouble with my ears. I mentioned in a blog post a while ago that I had bought ear drops. They helped for a bit but I had ongoing problems with my ear and had been to the doctor's three times. The last doctor noticed a perforation on my ear drum (probably caused by myself when I was poking cotton buds into it). I am currently on the waiting list to see a specialist. The reiki man said, however, that even though he felt it a lot around my ears he beleived that it was actually my sinuses that was causing the difficulty. I have always been prone to sinus infections and every time I take a cold that's where I feel it most.

He then went on to tell me that he felt a lot around my stomach and he asked me if I was a fussy eater. He said that this part of the body also represents confidence issues and he believed that I struggled with being sure of myself. This is true, even after I had made a conscious decision to work on my confidence it is still an issue I battle with. He said he also felt a lot of healing around my feet, in particular my left ankle. I told him that I sprained my ankle twice when I was younger but I couldn't remember if it was the left or the right foot. I have been trying to visualise my First Holy Communion pictures as that was one of the times I had sprained my ankle. It won't be hard to find out if he was right. And I think he is.

So my overall verdict is that it was deeply relaxing, soothing and insightful. I would reccommend it to anyone but I do believe that people will get varying results. For me, it was something that I was ready to embrace. I felt open to the healing that was being offered and I also felt very comfortable with the guy that was performing it. I had met him once before in different circumstances and I had sensed a nice vibe from him then as well. I felt throughout the session that we were in tune with each other and that helped me to get the most out if it that I possibly could. The main feeling I got was one of protection. As soon as his hands touched my head I felt safe. I will be seeing him again, for sure.

Today I am headed for unknown territory. An adventure, if you will. Gus resides in a far off land and we're jamming there for a change. I do believe that it is in the wilds of the countryside and there is a forest and feral cats for Ziggy to play with. I'm bringing my camera, my geetar and a head full of zen and humour. That's all you need sure.

Maybe Tomorrow....

My youngest niece and I like to have indepth conversations in a made up language. She is very good at it and makes all the right facial expressions even though she is saying "Agombi kyian shupapa fallella". And then I nod my head and say "Fee fee, caranya asloo borodia sleven". It ocurrs to me that these converstaions are just as meaningful, if not more, than a lot of the converstaions I have with adults. I am coming to the conclusion that we are all just talking gibberish.

Sometimes we have to take a long hard look at ourselves to realise why we have come to a certain point in life. I have known for a long time that I am the sort of person that cares deeply about things. Things matter to me. A lot. I get so excited and hopeful and full of promise. And, when things don't go to to plan the disappointment I feel can knock the wind out of me. I was wondering why I'm like this. I came to the conclusion it's because I haven't actually grown up yet. I get excited about life like a child gets excited about going to the park. When something doesn't work out for me I feel the same sadness that my 4 year old niece feels when we leave the house without remembering her all important box of fairies that is actually really a pencil sharpener. I don't experience these emotions over the trivial things but, when something matters to me I pour all my heart and soul into it. The more I invest of myself the more disappointed I feel. And that's the problem. I can't invest less. I just can't do it. I wear my heart on my sleeve.

So is it time to grow up? Will I fare better in a world that favours adults? Shall I start building a wall up around myself and taking all my advice from the sage of cynicsm? Shall I take this crown of naievity from my head and put on the crown of judgement? I'm not so sure. Think I might just bide my time and see where this playful, childlike way of being might take me. I'm not ready to join the adults yet. Maybe tomorrow I'll wanna settle down.

Spider Bites

It's a wonder I managed to get anywhere in the world with my lack of organisational skills. Then again, there's something about 'winging it' that makes the whole experience unique. I was reminded today of my sister's wedding in Norfolk. I had been to Madrid with Jakers. It was his first holiday and we had a wonderful time. We flew out together from Dublin although we nearly missed our flight. I'll never forget the look on Jakers' face when he said "Does this mean we're not going on holiday?" But we made it just in time and to calm our nerves we decided to have a drink on the plane. I suggested whiskey (of course) and Jakers looked at the picture in the menu and said "I dunno. I dunno if I fancy powdered whiskey." Yes, the whiskey did come in sachets but we were on a plane, not a spaceship, and the whiskey was not powdered.

I had booked our room in a hostel and given some random time of arrival. When we got there we were fours hours late and the hostel owner, who looked like a member from ZZ Top, told us he had given our room to someone else but we could stay in a shared room for a couple of days and have the private room for the last few days. We made a deal with ZZ Top and shared a room with several people. It just meant that we appreciated our own room when we finally got it.

Jakers and I flew back separately. He went back to Ireland and I flew to London to meet Dirt Bird so we could travel to Norfolk together. I was meant to arrange accomodation for us with one of my two aunts but I left everything to the last minute when I was in Madrid and everything fell to an arse so Dirt Bird's friend, a roadie, said he could put us up for the night. I met Dirt Bird and we met the roadie and he told us that it was his sister's house he had been offering up to us and shit had hit the fan and it was no longer an option but we could stay the night at this recording studio. So we did. When we got there we went to 'the bar'. There were a few others but they soon left. The barman was a black guy who appeared to speak in riddles most of the night but who also made a lot of sense. Needless to say Dirt Bird and I were not wise and drank the night away. The drunker I got the more the barman made sense. When the sun came up we went up to the roof and then we went out for breakfast. This is what happens when accomodation is left up to me.

A spider crawled around the floor this morning. This time last year I would have been feared but I am trying to overcome my disliking of spiders. It's not rational when I can let a wasp climb through my hair and feed it sugar and water but freak out when I see a spider. The flatmate and I both noticed Ziggy licking at his hind leg today and he didn't want to put any weight on it. I couldn't see any obvious cuts and he didn't yelp when I investigated him. Then I saw him sniff at something on the floor that made him flinch. It was the spider, dead. I think Ziggy might have been bitten by the spider. It's still annoying him and he won't walk on it properly but it's clearly more discomfort rather than pain that he's feeling. He has been eating bits of sausages so I assmue he's otherwise ok.

Sleeping In The Tree House

This morning I had my driving test. I failed. And I knew I had failed but it's ok. I was a little bit disheartened but I never really expected to get it first time anyway. At least I know what to expect now and, really, the most annoying thing about it is having to pay for it again but sure, I'll never go hungry. I might not be able to get the Littlest Hobo t.shirt I want just yet but that can wait!

Besides, the universe had to balance my happiness out in some way because life has been so sweet this past week or so I was getting kinda spoilt with happiness. I went to a party on Saturday night armed with a guitar and half bottle of Jamesons. I met some fantastic people and we laughed the night away and sang songs. Gus came round for music on Tuesday and we actually kinda wrote a song, though the more I play it the more I think that the song might have already been written before. I don't know, it doesn't matter because I'm having such a good time laughing and singing and bouncing ideas off people that everything else is irrelevant. After the party on Saturday night we took a walk through the forest. I noticed a build up of mud by a small stream and I had the urge to poke it with a stick. The mud was harder than I thought, the stick snapped and I fell into the stream.

I slept in the treehouse the weekend before that. Bert informed me that it was the coldest night of the year so far. I lit the stove and some candles and took my sleeping bag up and settled down. The sky was so clear so I went out to the porch to look at the stars. It was brilliant. My body and mind knew that it was sleeping outdoors, amongst the trees. I felt like an Ewok! I woke up around half four shivering in my sleeping bag because the fire had gone out. If I had rammed it full of logs before going to sleep it would have lasted longer but I'll know for next time. It didn't even occur to me that I could just go into the house and go back to sleep. I put on my jeans and coat and got back into my sleeping bag and willed myself to get warm. I fell back asleep, when the sun was coming up and an hour or so later I heard small feet climbing up the stairs. My niece had remembered I was sleeping in the treehouse and come up to tell me that she needed a bowl for her breakfast.

My course starts in a couple of weeks so that'll be another thing to keep me learning and growing. The driving will come eventually. Ziggy will be sailed around the country at his leisure. I will ask him "Where do ya wanna go today Ziggy?" and I'll know just by looking into his eyes, 'cos I'm teaching him that trick. And then I'll pick the camera back up and remember that I have other hobbies as well as music and I'll also remember that I want to find someone to illustrate my book so that I can read it to my nieces when they're still children. It's nice remembering what I want to do with my life :)