Shiva's and Metta's Mother's Sutra

Over the last month i've just felt really blah. Totally and utterly fed up. The house never seems to stay tidy and with the rabbits it's now even more to do. We spend at least half an hour in the evening making sure they have a tidy bed to sleep in. One that's piss free and the conservatory is poo free. There's not much else we can do really because we can't put them out during the day. It's not as if i have nothing else to do. Last night we started making the Christmas cake. I don't like Christmas cake, truth be told. It's full of raisins and nuts. But it turned out so well last year that i thought i'd do it again. I've also decided to make a gingerbread village - probably four houses - a larger house and three smaller ones with gingerbread people. They'll all be raffled off at the school's Advent Festival. Which is another thing that's coming up. Stop; get off my crucifix...what's good? The weather yesterday, honestly. It was go...

It's been ages since i blogged because i've reached the photo limit for the blog. I had no idea that there was a set limit for photos to be uploaded. So i need to do something about that. Maybe it'll be time for me to switch over to a new blog. The new year will be ideal for that. Recently i've drifted. Drifted because i feel like i've just no been myself lately. Disconnected from the things which i would otherwise really be. There has been an emptying out of content. I do school, work, family and house - and i have so little time to connect with the things that nourish me. I find myself confused and sighing, wondering what i am supposed to do next because so many things need to be done and the things that i need to do aren't the things that i want to do. Everything seems so miserable as well with the recession and now this weird autumn weather. Today it was so strange. There was no breeze and the rain fell eventually, just straight down like someone had squeeze...

Fishermen at Ballyshannon Netted an infant last night Along with the salmon. An illegitimate spawning, A small one thrown back To the waters. But I'm sure As she stood in the shallows Ducking him tenderly Till the frozen knobs of her wrists Were dead as the gravel, He was a minnow with hooks Tearing her open. She waded in under The sign of the cross. He was hauled in with the fish. Now limbo will be A cold glitter of souls Through some far briny zone. Even Christ's palms, unhealed, Smart and cannot fish there. 

I was in Washingbay last Friday. It is called Washingbay because it was used by pilgrims in the 18th century from across Ireland. People would come to the Holy River on the banks of the Lough to swim. The waters were thought to be healing. They would then tie a red rag on the rag tree and hope that when the rag rotted away their illness would go too. There are many such trees in Singapore still - and in fact when we saw the tree, rags were still being tied on its branches. Red T shirt material, with green moss growing on it, some pieces had fallen to the ground. The river however was a different story. It was a filthy, oleaginous vein of slime and the whole place stank.  Lough Neagh is the second most polluted lough in Europe. Just after a place in Eastern Europe, which is saying quite a lot. If we want to see just how far we have destroyed the environment, we need only look at stories from old. Not two hundred years ago, in Jude the Obscure, anyone who has read this will remember the ...