This is a tough one. Matt asked me to write about eight things not generally known about me.
It's tough because basically I have already written about anything remotely interesting about myself; it's tough because I don't like to open myself to others, even though I write in this blog as if I have no trouble doing just that.
And it's tough because today I am feeling a little under the weather...it has been stormy, cold and rainy for the past couple of weeks; my body reflects what's happening outside. I really just want to go to bed; however, this is not a thing I can do easily, seemingly. I would lie there, thinking about all the things I should be doing.
One of which is catching up on my writing.
One thing not generally known about me is that I wanted, with my whole heart, to be an archaeologist. I studied it, I read books about it, I fantasized sifting through Dirt, chiseling on Rocks, being outside and deeply involved in what was appearing before me. I even wrote a paper on it, for my Grade 11 Creative Writing Class.
If Archaeology was not to be in my future, neither was the other interest...to be a Midwife. There were few of those when I was of the age to look for further education. Midwifery did not become mainstream until I already had my babies.
I can't think of a finer occupation. To greet those brand new Souls as they arrive would be
incomparable to me, always awesome, always close to Creator.
And then there is the time I lived on a Commune for a few months, after I graduated. It was a great experience...these people I lived with were committed to Mother Earth. But they were not so committed to each other or each other's possessions. Sensitivity and kindness were sorely lacking on this commune...we were all very young, selfish and as passionate as the youth of the sixties generally were.
When my brand new vehicle was used for pulling logs out of the bush...it felt like it was time to move on.
This next one is probably obvious, since I tend to write about Storms, Wind, and Rain more than I do about Sunshine. I love inclement Weather. Really strong inclement Weather. The kind where battening down the hatches is advised. The kind where I can go down to the Seawall and watch Ocean's waves smash and fly onto the Beach, covering people like me, standing on shore, with cold, foamy Seawater.
And with that in mind, my ideal place to live would be with the Ocean at my front and the Forest at my back. I am close to the ideal, where I live...I can see the Ocean from the front of my home, and there is a large, forested Park at my back. In my fantasy, however, there are no other houses around...only Forest and Ocean. I grew up on acreage; it seems acclimatizing myself to neighbourhoods and traffic, rules and regulations is one of those things that requires more acceptance on my part.
All my life, I have eaten foods that were in Season. There is much that is written about sustainable living these days. As I read the literature, I think...This is not new, at least to me. Slow foods are the staple of my cooking. I look forward to the seasonal harvest, eschewing the pap that is sold in the stores, foods that come from thousands of miles away.
I find Farmer's Markets artistic and creative...all the displays show colours and shapes only Creator could have designed. It is a photo opportunity, that changes as the Seasons turn.
And this is an area I would love to explore...growing enough food to take to the Market. I picture in my mind's eye a smallish home on the Beach, with enough area for a large Market garden, and path's to follow into a deep Forest. The house, on second thought, should be a little larger, for the Bed and Breakfast I would run. Relaxation and good food would be the order of the day for my guests.
In direct opposition to running a Bed and Breakfast here on the Island, I look forward to staying in those B and B's, when I travel in the UK, one desire not so unknown to others. This one, as opposed to the house on the Beach, will happen. This one is just waiting for the right time.
One of my favourite ways to beat feeling under the weather, is to make myself a cup of Herbal Tea, grab a crossword puzzle that is not too difficult (else I would just be frustrated and sick) and plunk myself down in the Big Chair by the fireplace. I would doze in between brilliant word choices...and wake up, at the end of my sojourn, feeling ever so much better.
And this is just what I'm going to do.
Matt's directions include naming five other people. I hesitate to do so; most of the bloggers I know have already done this meme. However, in the spirit of the whole thing, I will name Marsha, Joe and Princess Haiku. I realize there are only three bloggers I've named; if there is anyone who would like to write about eight things you hide deep in your heart, by all means, let me know, and I will provide a link to your site.
Thank you, Matt, for giving me the opportunity to write about these half-forgotten desires and experiences I have. I could have written a lot more, had I not fallen victim to this disgusting bug presently inhabiting my body.
The Big Chair is calling my name.