Shiva's and Metta's Mother's Sutra

I should be planning the day, but but but...it's just too tempting to be reflecting on St Michael. Archetypes are an interesting point of rumination. Do they exist, or are they the product of some cultural pantheist's longings? I was looking at the images of Michael, and reading a bit about him and it made me a bit sad to think that he's so incredibly WAR like, but in a dualistic manner. HOWEVER, if we look closely at the images of Michael, something very interesting springs to mind. He expression on his face is NOT one of hate, or anger, or rage - netheir is it one of apathy or disinterest. In fact, the expression on his face is not unlike the one on Bhudda's or Shiva's or Arjunas - concentrated and interested but detatchment. Like Bhudda and Arjuna, Michael occupies all three worlds - divine, intercessionary and human. Like Bhudda and Arjuna, he is a warrior, but a warrior of light. Like Shiva he dances on the demon of ignorance. So i wonder, how wonderful it woul...

The past week has been very very busy, as usual. It has been beautifully so though. With the good weather belatedly arriving, school going full tilt, Ghin just making me feel incredibly privileged, the way Oisin makes me feel incredibly privileged, it has been runneth over time. Last Thursday Marie invited my to see Lisa Hannigan in concert at the Empire. Lisa Hannigan used to sing with Damian Rice on O. She's now solo in her own right and her performance was incredible. It was Bjork meets Purcell, meets Suzanne Vega. It had been ages since i had been to the Empire for a gig. In fact it had been too long. There was a symmetry about it in that the last time i was there i was with Sandra for the Answer. That was in 2005. 2005!!! It seems a lifetime away. It seems like another Stephanie was there. A Stephanie who had believed in swinging from the tops of trees, from vine to vine, swimming in magma. Who wasn't afraid to go wherever a feeling would lead her - and some. Where's t...

Ghin discovers the joy of self service in the backseat of the car. I've put him there cos he now threatens to drive the car for me when he's in the front seat. I've been so tired over the last few days! The frenetic activity of autumn included making our own elderberry jam from our own elderberry tree, harvesting and eating our own potatoes and of course the cleaning up after a summer of dereliction. We'll probably have to get the beech tree pruned as well. It's so huge now and we could erect a tree house in there. In fact may be we should build our next extension in it. A great recipe for elderberry jam: Elderberries, of course Exotic fruit: dates and figs i used. Sugar, to taste. Don't ask me how much exactly. A dash of red wine - ok, one glass. Some ground allspice and black pepper. Go easy on the black pepper. It's nice with just a hint cos it helps warm you up, like masala tea. Pick and clean the berries. You can also throw in some black berries - the f...

I love Derry. I cannot tell you how much i love the place. I fell in love with Ireland there. It has some amazing people. It's ancient and wonderful. It has an astonishing history. And then there is the Derry that i dropped in on over two days. The place seemed to be coated in this thin film of something - everything was slightly or very grimy and at 1130 on Saturday morning the shops were quiet. It did pick up later on, but the brightening day only served to illuminate the griminess even further. It really pains me to say this. As i walked from Brooke Park to Shipquay Street via William Street through the Bogside, the level of litter was shocking. Everything from paper wrappers to broken glass and every, just everywhere empty tins of larger, Coke, bottles of WKD and whiskey lying around. It was heartbreaking. Derry deserved so much better. On the fact of it it is the perfect place for a transition town. A close knot community that isn't too large or too small. A perfectly pres...

... go shoe shopping with an 21 month old and a three year old. Lisa and i did this and we must be awarded the most optimistic mothers award. Trapising along the high street in tartan mini skirt, gig T shirt and my key chain which looks like a gig pass round my neck, Ghin strapped into the buggy and screaming his head off, i must have looked like an irresponsible teenage mum from a distance. On closer inspection i must have looked insane. This picutre was taken before the screaming began. The problem is that Ghin does not think that the pram is there for his convenience. He thinks that it's for his entertainment. Ergo, he pushes the pram, save for the few minutes when he's sleeping between car and pram. Trying to keep your patience, dignity and mental stability as your child is careeing into shoppers, wheelchair users and other normal-use prams is quite something. I don't can't how many coffees you've had or tomato soups you've warmed up on. It's still a cha...

It's fascinating how bits of your life can come together. I'm currently reading the Dao Te Ching. It was Lianne who put me on it. When i got back from Singapore i was reorganising something when it fell out, there at my feet, and i thought, i can read this now. Having decided that i did want to stay in conservation, but that current conservation mindsets were too rigid, i thought it would be fascinating to see if there is an Eastern way of doing 'conservation'. As i read the Dao, i thought, for a start it would be interesting to see if we can apply the Dao to conservation. And for starters, the whole classification model is self defeating. I am now to believe that Plato and his Theory of Forms is responsible for the ontological error in way in which 'scientists' go about their business. I think the best way to do conservation is actually not to do conservation at all. That is, to do conservation but not realise that you are doing it. Did i blog about this before...

It's one am in the morning and i can't sleep. We were at the Green Living Fair yesterday and saw everyone whom we ever met since i arrived in Northern Ireland. It is an exaggeration, but only a slight one. I can't really sleep now. Normally i'd just read the Mark Thomas book As Used on the Famous Nelson Mandala, or try writing, but i had this glass of wine as soon s we came home from the fair and it just wasn't a good idea. It was only one glass, but it was on an empty stomach and really, i can't drink the way i used to anymore. Old age. I'm nearly 38. Honestly, i do not know what that means. Does it mean that i should stop wearing short skirts? Does it mean i can't go booging anymore? For the first time last week i walked by a cloths shop and thought, i'm too old to wear that. TOO OLD. Not that it was ugly or badly made or the wrong colour, but too old!!!! Perhaps what i meant to think was it looked undignified... which ever way i want to cut it, it...

It is a little overdue but Ma, here are the pictures of the work we did on the house. First the kitchen. We painted it lilac. It is my favourite colour and not an immediate one when you think about kitchens, but it works. It goes very well with everything that we have there and because it's so nice and new i have been working very hard at keeping it clean. It seems odd that at the age of 37 and a some, i still did not know how dishes should be washed. By this i mean, i am perfectly capable of allowing a whole sink to be filled it overflowing with utensils, pots, glasses, etc before i get it cleaned. This was because i used to wait till right till the end of a meal to wash the 'dshes' which by this stage had morphed into the Insummountable Mountain of Vegetable Peels and Burnt On Pots. I decided that this had to stop. So.... i decided to TRY washing everything as i used it. I know this sounds insane. It sounded insane when a wonderful woman named Martha McClelland told me th...

Here are some pictures that i've taken from this part of the world since our return. I haven't been very studious about it, but i shall now start making more of an effort now that i'm reblogging. Ghin checks out the Glencraig apple orchard. Easily the most pictureseque place this side of the peninsula in spring. We have picnics under the blossoms and the children run around in the fields puffing on dandelion seedheads. So fecking twee!!! Oisin made this scarmbled egg on by himself. I shouted instructions from the garden as i did something there and he took them. Of course i lit the first, but everything else was done by him. I sound like an annoying parent, but man, yet another milestone. My son can cook!!! Here's Ghin when we told him to wink. Wink Ghin, wink, and he did that scrunchy eye thing that babies do cos they can't control the muscles right yet. Ghin in a red hood. Me... looking all retro.

Hey all, i'm so sorry not blogging, if anyone has still checked regularly. The reasons are manifold - laziness, the computer being in Pa's room while in Singapore (and i was only coherent enough at about 2am - and still am), it would have been a bit much to knock on their door and gone, hey guys can i use the computer? - and then back here, well, it's only now that some kind of routine is beginning to kick in. I spent a most charming evening with Oisin and Ghin yesterday. After having Nathan over - and we went to Stormont where there is this huge lifesized spit it! kick it! play thing - we came home to to some spiced roasted veggies from John's farm, of course - and bacon from Alan's. Ah!!! Somehow, it was wonderfully comforting. It was oddly better than all the char kauy teow in Singapore - ok, i cheat cos i dont really lie char kuay teow, but as good as the sushi there. After dinner Oisin reminded me that we had to write to our local MLAs about the greenway being ...