Still Hunting

Dear Universe,  
We spoke about this back in June. 
That was four months ago.

I'm still in need of a good job in a nice, local school - preferably a non-religious one, or one that's accepting of Pagan borderline agnostic weirdos like me.  

Being on JSA and temping sucks.   I've had the chance to work in some lovely schools, and some less lovely ones.  I have a clearer idea of where I'd be happy.  
I have my top three in mind, but I'm prepared to be flexible - it doesn't have to be at one of my top three, or even my top five. 
Dear Universe, I trust you. 
If there's a school I don't know about where I would be a perfect fit, then by all means allow the pieces to fall into place and light my way.

And, dear Universe,
If this career isn't meant for me,
A flipping huge wodge of cash to allow me to pursue an alternative would be really handy
Thank you 

Job Hunting Again

Hey ho.  

Here we go again. 

I love the school I'm working at, I love the class I work in.  I get on really really well with the class teacher.  But it's too far, and it's only a temporary post in any case, and it runs out at the end of August. 

I need a local job.  One where I don't have to spend 4 hours of my day travelling.  I need a work/life balance.  I need it to be attached to a class, rather than being all over school doing PPA or intervention groups.   Ideally I'd love it to be in Year 1, Year 3 or Year 5.  I love those odd number year groups :)   I'd really really like it to be permanent, too, but I know that's a big thing to wish for.  Hell as long as I'm wishing, can it be in a non-religious school with people who aren't nuts, and who are cool about weirdo pagan bisexual folk.   If it pays a little better than average that'd be great too. 

Please, Universe, can we do this?   I've had enough of coming to the end of the school year with nothing to move on to but JSA, itty bitty badly paid supply jobs and pointless assfuckery by the job centre.

Sincerely,
Me. 

How long since I last wrote?

I can't quite get over how long it's been since I blogged on here.  I've been put off blogging by lack of time and that I'm not really sure what I want to say.   I set up another blog last year so I could talk about relationship issues, but I've not even used that one for nearly 6 months.   It doesn't feel like a safe space to say what I want any more.  My own fault, because I had links to it from other websites from before I decided I was going to talk about quite explicit stuff that I couldn't post elsewhere, and I forgot to remove one of the links.   I never intended to cause pain by my private ramblings, just work through my own feelings and thoughts.  However, what's done is done, and I'll have to live with the fact that I've lost friends over it.  

I should probably bite the bullet and just dive in.   I don't know if anyone else can still see that blog.   I know I have no links to it from any external sites now, but it still feels weird, like you know there's a voyeur in the apartment over the road, but your flat has no curtains and all you can do is get changed in the dark and hope they either can't see or they've gone out already. 

Three Chickens Minus One

I kind of lost heart blogging about our lovely chickens after we lost Rosie.

This is what I put on Facebook after she died - it took me a week before I could bring myself to post a note about it on there - and I use FB nearly every day!


Sadly, last week one of our three ladies died.

We noticed on Sunday that Rosie wasn't as active as usual, and was spending a lot of time with her feathers fluffed out looking grumpy, but she still came running when one of us came into the garden and squabbled with the others for her share of treats.

On Tuesday evening, Seán said he was worried about her, because she'd not been scratching and eating bugs and hadn't been very active at all, though that might have been because it was horrible and wet that day, and the other girls didn't venture far from the shelter of the run and the greenhouse.

When I got home from work on Wednesday, I noticed milky-looking poo near where she was standing, and the tips of her comb were purplish. She also had a temperature. We rang the vet that afternoon, but couldn't get an appointment before Friday.

Seán said he'd kept an eye on her on Thursday, and she'd seemed a little better, eating and squabbling with the others for pomegranate seeds. She did go to bed early, I checked on her to see if she was alright. She clucked softly at me as I disturbed her to check her temperature, but didn't move. We just hoped she'd hang on till morning to see the vet.

When Seán went to open the house up and let them out on Friday morning, we found she'd died during the night.

We've noticed a few changes since we lost her - there's less mess in the chicken house, we're still getting two eggs a day, so we reckon she wasn't well when we got her, we just hadn't picked up on it. She'd laid at least one egg since we brought them home, and we suspect the rubbery anomalies we found were hers. One of those probably ruptured inside and caused an infection. Being new to chicken keeping, we didn't know what to look out for.

Rosie is buried in one of her favourite scratching spots under a birch sapling. At least we made her last few weeks happy ones. Our garden must have seemed like chicken heaven after a year in a battery farm.

Jenny and Carmen are still with us, happily making a mess of the vegetable patch, running up to the gate whenever they hear the back door opening to see if we're bringing them treats. They don't mind the wet (they're either hardy Lancashire hens, or they're a bit thick!) They're favourite treats are raisins, sweetcorn and other soft fruits.

This photo is Jenny peering at me through the gate with Carmen behind her. They weren't at all keen on all the snow and ice we had in the winter, during the worst of it, we had to keep checking to make sure their water hadn't frozen up.

They've got through that, and now they're enjoying the abundance of fresh new leaves and garden bugs that summer has brought!

Chickens! Part 4

Our First Eggs!


Last Wednesday, I found our first "egg" in the henhouse. It didn't really look like an egg. It didn't have a shell, but was a soft, rubbery, vaguely ovoid mass that had something that looked like a bit of scrumpled up paper attached to it. Yuck!


I thought that maybe the girls weren't taking the grit (oyster shell) that I'd put out in a separate container for them, and this might be why they weren't laying - and would explain the shell-less oddity. On Friday, I decided to grind up the oyster shell into smaller bits. What I'd been sold initially wasn't crushed oystershell - it wasn't a fine powder, but fairly small pieces of shell. I wondered if maybe the chickens didn't recognise it in that form. It was quite difficult to grind it up with the mortar and pestle, so I didn't quite get the fine powder I was after, but at least it was small enough to mix with the feed.




Saturday was the first day they had the grit mixed in with the feed


Saturday 4th September was when we got our first proper egg!


I went to check on the hens at around half past eleven, and noticed that Jenny wasn't out and about with the rest of the girls. I found her in the house, on the nest box, so I opened up the side to see if she was okay, and there she was, trying to incubate her egg. She got up and walked off when I opened the side of the house, so I picked up the egg. It was smooth and still warm.


It seemed quite small compared to the eggs we'd been buying, so I thought I'd get a photo of Jenny's first free-range egg and a bought one to compare the two. The egg with the speckledy shell is the bought one. As you'll see, it's really not that much smaller than a bought "medium" egg.

































Since then, we've had one egg a day from our ladies, though one of them produced another shell-less oddity yesterday, so maybe that's a sign that one of the others coming back into lay. I do hope so.

I ate one of our own eggs the day before yesterday. I cooked a bought one, and one of our own to compare them. Ours had a deeper yellow yolk and a richer flavour than the bought one. Wow!

Here's to lots more eggies from our three ladies.


I'm so glad we've done this. Rescuing ex-battery hens was absolutely the right thing for us.

Chickens! Part 3

We now have free-ranging foraging chickens who are having a great time scratching up our garden!

We let them out for the first time on Friday afternoon. Jenny and Carmen wasted no time getting out of the run - they'd been hovering near the door whenever we go near it for a couple of days by then. I think they were just waiting to be let out.

They've scratched out a couple of dustbathing spots as well as scratching around looking for bugs and things. Jenny found a worm yesterday - had no idea what to do with it though. She pecked at it a few times, then lost interest in its squirming and ambled off. Rosie wandered over to see what Jenny had found, pecked at the worm a few times and then went "scoff" and ate it in one. They've not done a lot of damage - knocked over a couple of the evening primrose plants so they can get at the tender leaves near the tops, but they were in danger of taking over the garden anyway to be honest. They rather like dandelions and linseed as well.

They're still not keen on being handled, and wary of us if we get close. We're trying to build up their trust by taking out treats for them like sweetcorn, raisins or mixed seeds and sitting close by hoping they'll come and investigate and maybe peck a little out of our hands. Jenny got quite close this afternoon, till Rosie pushed her out of the way (she's a big bully that one) but Rosie wasn't interested herself, so I scattered the treats near them, and hopefully, they'll build up an association of us sitting down near them with having treats.

They do like coming to the garden gate to see what's happening in the rest of the garden. I often see Rosie looking through the slats as I'm busy in the kitchen. All three of them come over occasionally to have a nosy. I left some food there for the this morning.

They're quite happy wandering round the garden, and know that there's food and water back in their run whenever they want it - though I've seen Rosie chase the other two away from it quite frequently. That's why I scatter plenty round the garden for the others to find - although they often sneak back to the run when Rosie isn't looking. They head back toward the run as it starts to go dark, though last night because the weather was fine, it didn't start to get dark till quite late, and I was beginning to wonder if they'd need rounding up. Fortunately, by 8pm, they were all in the run, so Seán closed it up. By 9pm, they were settling down to roost, so I closed the door of the house and took out the leftover mash and water.

We still haven't had any eggs, and I'm a bit worried as one of them (don't know which one though) seems to be doing runny poos - it looks like a blob of caramel topped with white rather than a small lump of charcoal topped with white. I'm hoping it's just down to the change of diet now that they're foraging - maybe she just ate something that disagreed with her. I'm keeping an eye on them in case it is more serious. I just wish they'd poo more on the beds and not on the paths :o)

All in all, our ladies are settling in well, and our free-range adventure is working out.

Chickens! Part 2

Our three ladies are safely home and hiding from the rain in their cosy house.

Seán's dad was brilliant, driving me all the way up to Rising Bridge to get them, with a stop-off at Eureka for feed. We got a £3 off voucher to spend on a 20kg bag of feed - so together with grit, it came to slightly less than a tenner. A 20kg bag should last nearly 2 months - better value than I expected.

We brought them home in a sturdy cardboard box with plenty of ventilation (letterbox shaped holes). The littlest of them (Jenny) tried to make a run for it as we put her in, and was clearly up for an escape attempt again once we got them home.

They're not so sad-looking as I thought they'd be. We weren't expecting them to be as well-feathered as they are. They only have a couple of bald patches, and were very alert too.

We got them all in the run safely, with food and water out, and a handful of oyster shell - and a head of broccoli tied to the roof for them to peck at.

Rosie is the biggest, and seems to be quite bold and nosy
Carmen has a bent over comb
Jenny is the smallest - and goes like greased lightning

We've only had them a few hours, but their personalities are already becoming distinct.

They've braved the outdoors a few times and made a dash to the sheltered bit of the run where the food and water are, but go back in and hide whenever we go and check on them.



I got a few photos of them too

Chickens!

This is something new for me - I've had indoor pets before, but not outdoor pets. I've always wanted to have chickens, but thought we'd not be allowed to because of rules about keeping livestock.

However, chickens can be kept as pets, if you're not breeding them to sell or selling the eggs, so we looked into how to go about it.

It seems to be becoming quite popular at the moment - I have a few friends who already keep chickens, and a couple more who are starting out at the same time as us.

It all looked very expensive - chicken houses seemed very pricey and getting birds from a breeder was quite expensive too; they didn't seem to want to sell less than 4.

Then we heard about the British Hen Welfare Trust, who rescue ex-battery chickens once they've come to the end of their "commercial life span". They're still quite young, but they've been in intensive egg production all their lives and are deemed to be past their best, so off they go to the slaughterhouse - destined to be pet food. The rescue teams come in before the people from the slaughterhouse come to clear out the shed and buy as many as they can take away.

Ex-battery chickens still have a lot to give - they're still young, they recover, refeather and get used to their new home and family quickly. They're bred for docility, and become tame, even affectionate to their new owners - all this and eggs too!

We decided to adopt 3 rescued hens, and I decided to keep a diary of how we got on. Dave Snape gave me the idea, as he said adopting rescued hens was one of the hardest ways of starting out, because of the extra TLC they need when they first come home.

Next step was to make everything ready.

We decided to build our own chicken house and run as bought ones were expensive, and not very well made. Seán knew he'd be able to build one of far better quality for rather less than the likes of Pets at Home were selling them for. We went for a traditional "toblerone" shape - you can see from the photo below what it looks like. Seán had to build it between showers on our patio

Next was to prepare the location - dismantling the broken cold-frame, moving flagstones, and then carrying the finished chicken house to its proper place - it's heavy!

Seán had left a skirt of the mesh from the run overlapping the base of the run so that it could be dug into the ground or layed under paving slabs to prevent foxes digging under and into the run. Paving slabs are now all around the house and run, except on one side, where it's flush against the greenhouse wall.

We bought food and drink dispensers from Pets at Home and checked out their range of foods and grit etc. They didn't seem to do a dry mash food - just pellets and mixed corn. we've been told that ex-battery hens have been used to a diet of dry mash all their lives, and don't usually recognise pellets as food straightaway. They need to be weaned onto the pellets. We've been given other good tips, like hanging a head of cabbage or corn cob in their run for them to peck at - especially good for distracting them from pecking at each other excessively as they establish a hierarchy.

We still need to enclose the garden securely to keep them safe once they're able to come out of the run and forage round the garden, but we've got till the end of next week to get that done. It just needs a good gate to keep them in the garden and discourage foxes. Once we knew the house and run would be ready, we contacted the Hens Welfare Trust and got in touch with our local co-ordinator. We've arranged to collect our three chickies as soon as we come back from Silverdale. We've arranged a lift up to Haslingden to pick them up, but need something to bring them home in. We have a cat carrier, but that won't be big enough for all three, so we'll need a cardboard carrier or two as well.

Of course we also had to decide on names for our ladies. I really like old-fashioned names and had a big long list
Rosie (from "Rosie's Walk"
Daisy
Poppy
Penny (Henny-Penny from "Chicken Licken")
Daphne
Eggwina
(hen)Rietta
Brenda
Mavis
Rita
Edie
Deirdre
Myrtle

But I thought it would be nice if Rowan and Phoebe each chose a name as well.
Rowan liked Jenny
Phoebe wanted to call one Carmen

So our ladies are going to be Rosie, Jenny and Carmen (otherwise, I think it was going to be Rosie, Daphne and Rita)

Part 2 coming soon, once we have our chickens - they might look a bit sad and pathetic when they first arrive, but you'll hopefully get to see how they blossom

Where did the time go?

It's more than a year since I posted on here. Not that anyone would have missed me. You're all far too busy to notice that Lily the Pink of Losing the Thread has been silent for 14 months.

And the reason is that I've been far too busy to have time to organise my thoughts into the semi-coherent ramblings you're all used to. Every time something important has happened, or I've seen something that's really got my goat I've thought, "Ooh, must blog about this!" real life has got in the way.

I'd love to know, what's it like to be bored?

I've had my fingers dipped in soooo many pies, bellydancing (Yum!), work, various protest things, Circus Jam (now that's one TASTY pie!), family, moots and stuff! It just never ends.

I couldn't get my teeth into blogging about the political arguments going over the Election, various adverts that really pissed me off, stuff at work that's been bananas as usual or stuff that's gone on in my family because I've been too busy doing it.

People say "I used to have a life before some silly sod persuaded me to join Facebook". Well, all I can say is that I've done so much more mad shit since I joined Facebook than I ever would have thought possible!

Subversive Spaces at the Whitworth Gallery

Seán and I visited the exhibition on a rare day off without kids (It was Purim, so the school I work at was closed). It was excellent, thought-provoking and absolutely fascinating.

I wasn't so sure about all the stuff relating to explorations of hysteria - but I could definitely understand the work of the artists relating to enclosed private spaces. These are supposed to be our comfort zones, the protected spaces where we feel safe. For anyone who has experienced abuse or violence within the home or felt besieged by hooligans chucking eggs and insults at your windows, those spaces are not the haven we feel they ought to be.

I also found the explorations of "unheimlichkeit" fascinating. It's the feeling of the uncanny, of suddenly encountering something odd, out of place and unexpected in a familiar and comforting setting, capturing the shiver-down-the-spine moment or the feeling of deja vu, the "glitch in the matrix" that there's something not right here.

Another thing that caught my eye was the work relating to the "renovation" of Paris, and the destruction of the old Les Halles marketplace to make way for the Georges Pompidou Centre. The situationists, surrealists and flaneurs of the time felt keenly that this was part of the city's repression of working class spaces under the guise of beautification. The parallels between this and the "gentrification" of our own most beloved Northern Quarter hit me instantly. Again, it's the repression, the squeezing out of the underclass by the bourgeois.

I also love, love, love the short films of Francis Alÿs. He views walking, strolling aimlessly, as a resistance to the "speed culture" of our modern world. His film of himself (view it here) walking along drumming on railings, streetlights and parked cars (running off when he set off an alarm) filled me with a childlike glee. I wanna do that. Seriously - I want to do a percussive derive around Manchester. I want to know what a streetlight sounds like, I want to beat out a rhythm on a litter bin and the bars in front of shop windows. I am so inspired by this guy!

If you've not been to see this exhibition - go. You must, and then come join me on a percussive dérive.

Love and sparkles
Sara

In Honour of Bettie Page

Bettie Page, possibly the last great icon of the 1950s has passed on following a heart attack last week.


Her legacy will live on for a long long time to come. Cheesecake Pin-up and Fetish Queen, she developed a cult following.




Her agent Mark Roesler said that "she captured the imagination of a generation of men and women with her free spirit and unabashed sensuality." For many, she was the embodiment of beauty. She had a distinctive style all her own that many admired and emulated - and still do!




After giving up modelling, she became reclusive, a born-again Christian and worked full time for an evangelical minister. On resurfacing in the 1990s, she never allowed herself to be photographed. She preferred that people remember her as she was. She never felt any shame in being photographed nude - she said that "God approves of nudity. Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, they were as naked as jaybirds"



Bettie Page is one of my cultural heroes. She survived a turbulent childhood and never lost her inner beauty and innocence. I salute you.

Rest in Peace.

Public lack of Conveniences

It took us two hours to get home from Bolton on Saturday night. It's not like we were travelling particularly late, but it shouldn't have taken that long to get home.

We caught one bus from Crompton Way into the centre of Bolton so we'd be able to get a 95 bus home (it drops us off much closer than the 524). If we'd had a car, the problem we faced would not have arisen as we'd have been home in 15 minutes.

We got to the bus station with 5 minutes to spare before the 95 was due in. I needed to go to the toilet. I know it's not a polite thing to talk about, and perhaps that's one reason why provision of public conveniences has fallen by the wayside. The bus station toilets were closed by this time, and the next nearest (a horrible huge cold metal cubicle thing with a locking sliding door you have to pay an extortionate amount to get in was too far to walk to and get back before the bus arrived.

I thought I'd be able to hang on till we got home. Unfortunately, I'd forgotten how bumpy that route was, with all those useless bloody speed-bumps. It got worse and worse, and I was in agony from the effort of holding it in and feeling nauseous from the jolting. Our driver was doing the best he could to make the journey as smooth as he could (it was the same driver we'd had on the way into Bolton), but we'd not even got as far as Little Lever before I had to give in.

We then had to walk the rest of the way home - it was that or wait an hour in the rain and the cold for the next bus.

Now, if Bolton Council would spring for toilet refurbishment (and make a proper job of it this time) and actually employ someone as a toilet attendant we'd have been a lot better off. This isn't the first time we've been caught short in the centre of Bolton on a long journey home - last time it was one of the children. You have small children, and you quickly learn the location of every public loo anywhere you visit regularly. Alas, that only works in daytime, as Bolton's public conveniences are only for the convenience of daytime travellers it seems.


I know it's scary using public loos in the evening - they get used by undesirables, junkies, alcies, and the like, and by people who prey on the vulnerable. However, we've got CCTV now, so we should all feel so much safer (yeah right) using public spaces in the evening. After all, the guy who mugs us is going to get caught on grainy video footage and if they manage to get a positive ID, he'll get a slap on the wrist and a couple hundred hours community service.

No, CCTV monitoring isn't the answer. What we need is people. And I don't mind having to pay a few pence to use public conveniences - the ones at Shudehill Interchange and Piccadilly Railway Station are quite pleasant to use, and only cost about 30p. The fact that you have to go through the pay and turnstile thing puts off casual vandals, and if there's someone around keeping an eye on things that you can yell to for help as well as the ubiquitous CCTV cameras that watch all and see nowt, that'd help. Although you'd need a change machine as it's really annoying to be desperate for the loo but unable to get in as you don't have the right change. I liked European public loos that have someone on duty all the time, actually sitting there keeping an eye on things - you pay them on your way out. What I didn't like was the fact that the money they are paid by the customers either supplements the tiny wages they get for being there, or is their only income for being there.


I've said it before and I'll say it again - society is seriously fucked up when the people who do real and necessary work get paid pennies while useless people like company execs and footballers (Footballers - people who kick a ball around for fuck's sake) get paid millions every week. It's a staggering amount of money that I just can't imagine. And for doing nothing important. It's obscene what those buggers get paid, when there are families on the edge of starvation and a third of children in this country are living in poverty.



We come back to the issue of public conveniences. We are the underclass, society is not built for our convenience. it is built for the convenience of cars and people with cars, for people with a "disposable income" - literally, money they can throw away. Hundreds of pounds on a really cool gadget, a new pair of boots, a third holiday this year. They've already spent hundreds on repairing the car, paying insurance, road tax and fuel - Gods forbid they should ever suffer the inconvenience of not having the car. They'd REALLY find out what inconvenience is all about then.

A Moment of Beauty

I've been inspired by a visit to another blog, "...follow the yellow brick road", winner of Best New Blog at the Manchester Blog Awards on Wednesday night. I'm not jealous, not in the least and not sulking at all for not being nominated for anything - there are after all far more deserving and worthwhile blogs than my random dèrives around an eclectic range of topics. The author describes a charming little family of sparrows in the waiting room at Manchester Airport, and the fact that only she seemed to be aware of them. The little fluffbundles couldn't even charm a few crumbs from a man with a danish.

I've found that Nature often provides little encounters with beauty that seem to be there just for you.

It's often like that - a glance up at the sky last weekend showed me and my children a beautiful rainbow effect in high altitude ice crystals. No-one else ever looks up in cities, I've noticed that on quite a few walks around Manchester with the Loiterers' Resistance Movement - we've been looking at interesting things about Manchester's skyline and the occult significance of twiddly little bits of architecture and had people giving us odd looks for daring to raise our eyes above street level. I think my children and I were the only people to appreciate that little moment of beauty. (The picture's from beloblog, by the way - not mine. Google images is brilliant!)


Later that morning, we saw a rainbow effect on the floor as low sunlight hit the edge of a glass shop door and spilled all its component colours out on the pavement in front of us in an otherwide dull and dreary alleyway. No-one else appeared to have noticed. It was an "Oh wow" moment just for us. I thought someone else must have seen it, given the number of people who habitually shuffle along, gaze locked on the floor about three feet in front of them. However, it was just a narrow band of coloured light only a few feet away from the invisible busker. (Neil Gaiman is right, by the way - it is dangerous to notice such people, and often only those who live on the Edges themselves do so.) That little ray of light provided us with both an impromptu science lesson and another bright moment of beauty on a cold and windy day.

Lost in Dance

I have taken the plunge.

I'm about to do something that I've been psyching myself up for for the last year or two - pretty much since my first Hafla.

I'm doing my first ever solo bellydance performance next month at our class' Performance Platform.

I haven't yet decided on my music, but it's likely to be Persephone, Queen of the Underworld by Unto Ashes or something by Maduro - or even have a stab at Evil Night Together by Jill Tracy (as done by the eminently fabulous Tempest. I want to do something a bit darker & more Gothic than is usually chosen by the folks in my classes. I do a fab routine to a Nine Inch Nails track (Closer), but that might have some of the older members of the audience reaching for their smelling salts - it's so very different to the Egyptian poppy stuff we dance to in class!

I've been inspired by a recent Tribal workshop I did with Chris Ogden in Leeds (where I finally got to meet one of my Faceboook/Myspace friends, Nerissa/Yorkshire Rose). I also want to prepare for the Bellydance Weekend I'm going on next Spring, where I'll be expected to perform, so getting some prior experience would be useful!

All of my MySpace and Facebook dancer friends, as well as the ladies from my class have been immensely supportive and encouraging, so I'm going to do it.

More details coming soon.

Getting Creative

I had a busy day getting creative the other day.

It all started back in April when I started work at a place with a dead strict dress code - like elbows are sexy or something. Basically, I have to have sleeves to elbow length or longer at work so I'd had this bright idea of buying a load of cheap, basic long-sleeved white T-shirts and tie dying them in different colours so I'd have loads of tops that'd go with practically any skirt I owned and would be ok for work. It worked brilliantly, and saved me a lot of money - it's really really hard to find tops that are sneeus/tzeniut (modest) enough for work - even if they've got long sleeves, many styles have low necks - plus I hate blouses and shirts with collars and fussy bows, and that means most of the things in the shops that would otherwise be ok for work. Everything seems to be so damn fussy at the moment with bows and frills and stuff.

My tie-dyed T-shirts were a big hit with colleagues and kids. Such a big hit in fact, that after exams and things were over at the end of the summer term, we had a tie dye day where the class I'd been working with all brought in an old T-shirt, pillowcase or other item of their choice (anything except their dad's Shabbos shirt, the kids were told!). The kids had great fun, did something creative and messy and got something out of it that they could take home and use.


My daughter wanted to have a go too - she wanted a tie-dye T-shirt of her own. So, once she'd decided what colours she wanted - she wanted a T-shirt in her house colour (red) for PE and a purple one. She wanted a pattern of concentric circles on the front of the red one, and a star inside a circle on the purple one.

I can do tie-dye circles and stripes - vertical, horizontal and diagonal, and combinations of these no problem. I can't do stars. So, I dug out my Easy Batik kit and painted a star pattern on the purple one. Followed the instructions, but it didn't come out. Maybe I didn't leave it to dry long enough. So, after it was dry, I had a think, and decided to have a go at fabric painting. I'd never done this before, so wasn't sure how it would turn out, but I wanted to give my Phoebe the T-shirt she wanted. It worked really well. It needed several coats of white on the purple background, but the blue spiral inside the star was fab, and I highlighted the spiral with darker blue and silver. Once it was dry, I fixed it by ironing (honestly, that's the first time in months that iron's been used!)


I did a few things for myself while I had the dyes out - I did a vest, a T-shirt and another jumper I'll be able to wear for work, plus a pair of knickers that I'd not realised were in the washing machine when I rinsed out the first two items (purple and red) They came out partly tinged in light pink and red, so I tie dyed a couple of circles and dunked them in the deep pink dye bath. they do look rather cool.

I've now got to work out a design for my beloved - he wants the Tree of Life. Nothing simple. So I'm working on the design for that at the moment

Watch this space for photos of the finished things.

A Grand Pagan Day Out

Yesterday I was at Pagancon in Preston. I got a lift there with my friend Linda. Also travelling with us was Chris, another friend of Linda who was doing a stall at Pagancon, selling handcrafted wands and staves.

Pagancon is a fabulous Pagan day out with brilliant stalls, talks and workshops. For the full rundown and review, you can have a look at The Radcliffe Moot blog.

It was really good to catch up with old friends, I hadn't seen Ken and Sandy for a few years. It was good to see Thorskegga and Sandra - I only ever seem to see them at Pagancon . Thorskegga does Heathenfest as well, but that's down in Peterborough and it's too far to travel.

I came home with some lovely things - fabulous pink hairfalls which I bought from the Shared Earth stall, a lovely belt and purse from Roo the Leathercarver, a beautiful moonstone pendant and the tarot deck I've been searching for for years. Clive Barrett who designed the Norse Tarot was there at the conference selling pewter god and goddess statues and jewellery, and he had one last copy of the Norse Tarot left - no book or box, but I don't think I really need those. I got Seán a present, too - a couple of second hand books from Ken and Sandy's stall, including Gifts of Unknown Things by Lyall Watson. I also treated myself to a wand, made by Chris from wood (I think it's pine) collected on Midsummer Night at a lovely valley in northern Sweden.

I could have spent three times as much if I'd had the money, it was really difficult to limit myself. I would have loved a bigger leather pouch - one big enough to put purse, phone and keys in. That'd be dead handy for work and shopping in summer when you don't want to take a coat, and the only reason for taking one is so you've got pockets to put those things in. I'm not a fan of handbags: they're either too small and you can't get all your stuff in them, which means you need a rucksack as well; or they're big enough but very heavy so you're unbalanced carrying it around, which leads to back problems.

They do lovely food for us at the rugby club, too. they have a fab breakfast menu of cholesterol butties - bacon, sos and egg barms. Then for lunch, they do chips and baked potatoes with a choice of accompaniments - tuna mayo, veg chilli, mushroom stroganoff or cheese. And the bar has some really good beers too.

I only did one workshop this year - Linda's shamanic journeying which was way too short because other things had overrun and hadn't left very much time before the main speaker was due to start her talk. It was still good. I hadn't expected to be able to get that deep into a trance state in such a short time, but so I did, which meant that returning to normal consciousness took longer too. Fortunately, there was leftover food on the buffet which was very helpful for grounding. Mmmm, cold chips and sausage rolls!

I'm already looking forward to next year, which is provisionally booked for 4th July 2009. I'll have to work harder at saving up, as next year's Pagancon will be before my birthday, so I won't have any birthday money to spend!

All those bare bottoms!

Manchester's Naked Bike Ride took place on 13th June and, by all accounts, went very well indeed.

My beloved rode with them for the second time, and I went along to watch. I would have joined in, but I had to mind the kids and I'm not that confident on my bike yet anyway. Besides, it helped to have someone who wasn't riding who would be able to take photos.

The ride caused quite a stir, with lots of excited and embarrassed giggling from bystanders as the cyclists passed - with only the occasional "Ugh they're naked and there's kids about. That's disgusting!" I noted that that kind of comment mainly seemed to come from young men out with girlfriends, including one Asian lad with his arm round his non-Asian girlfriend. One Asian family I passed in the wake of the ride up Market Street weren't reacting like that at all. They were all grinning hugely, laughing at mum who was wiping tears of laughter on her headscarf.

I got some fab photos of the event, sadly not of the laughing family: I felt I'd be intruding on them if I whipped out my camera and started snapping. All my pics of the event are here.

Here's a couple to be going on with.

If you watched Granada news that night, you'd have seen Seán doing his warm-up exercises before the ride while Meg, the organiser, was interviewed. The vid for that is still on the ITV local news website - search for local news (Greater Manchester) and sort by most recent as WNBR is way down the rear end (har har) of the alphabetical listing. Seán and I were also interviewed (along with Meg, other participants and spectators) by independent filmmakers G7UK - go watch the video here.

I'm looking forward to joining in next year!

The Big Day

A very important event occurred on Saturday 7th June.

My beloved, Seán (The Dionysian) and I, who have been together for 10 years or so, finally got round to getting married.

We had a legal ceremony at the local Registry Office, followed by a Pagan Handfasting in Burrs Country Park with a party afterwards at the Brown Cow.

We had a lovely day, starting off with me, my daughter and my best pal (and maid of honour) all going to House of Raja to put on our sarees. They'd offered to help us get ready as they wanted us to look our best in the sarees we'd bought from them, and we did indeed look fabulous. I'll be posting photos soon on Flickr, MySpace and Facebook, so keep an eye out.

The Civil Ceremony was elegant and simple, and didn't take long at all, the next couple were hovering outside having photos taken as we were being shooed out the door! I heard from the registrar that I was the third bride in a sari that day!

We then had a few hours to get something to eat before heading out again to Burrs to set up the gazebo as a chuppah/canopy for the Handfasting and sort out the room we'd booked at the Brown Cow.

We'd decided previously that our celebrant, my bridesmaids and I would wait at the canpoy, and Seán would lead the procession of guests from the carpark to the location we'd chosen for the ceremony - in a quiet spot near the river. We heard the approaching music - we had our friend Laurette playing fiddle to lead the guests in. It was lovely, a beautiful ceremony with vows we'd written and appropriate poems we'd chosen - and rings that I'd designed. See earlier post - I'm a Designer for details.

The party afterwards was brilliant, if a bit hot until a key had been found to open up the windows. The food everyone brought was great and the cake was just perfect.

I'd like to say a few special thank yous to various people

Firstly to Michelle (Screechowl) our celebrant and friend for conducting the ceremony
To Cath, for being my best friend, maid of honour and the one who started it all off by introducing me to Seán all those years ago
Next, to Morag Rose (The Mysterious LRM) with love and sparkles for a gorgeous pink and glittery cake
Then to Womble (Womble's Rants) for being our most excellent photographer
And to Daniel (The Astral Pilgrim) for being Seán's brilliant Best Man
And to Reena and the ladies of House of Raja (Fletcher Street, Bolton) for making sure we looked amazing
And to Trev, Cath's boyfriend, for driving us all to Bolton and back to the Registry Office. We got there before the groom!
And to Anne Rowson (RA Designer Jewellery in Manchester's Craft Village) for bringing my vision to life in the most perfect wedding rings
And Laurette for leading the procession so well with the Captain Pugwash theme tune!
And finally, to all our guests, family and friends who were there to share our special day, and those who weren't able to join us but sent us their best wishes.

Thank you all, you made our day!

World Naked Bike Ride 2008

Yes, it's that time of year again!

Manchester's Naked Ride will take place on Friday 13th June at around 6pm, setting off from the Basement Cafe on Lever Street. Anyone who wishes to join in or to show support will be more than welcome - particularly if you can do bodypainting! My beloved will be there, taking part again.

I don't take part myself yet, as I'm not that confident a cyclist - it's been years since I rode a bike and I haven't had much time to practice since I bought a cheap second hand one earlier this year - more on that later. Besides, someone has to mind the kids.

I'm all for it, though, for the same reasons as my beloved - his blog on the subject is here.
Firstly, it's a protest against the dominance of the car and the destruction by oil pollution of our planet's fragile ecosystems. It also highlights in a very clear way just how vulnerable cyclists are on our roads. One guy last year had "Not Invisible Now!" painted on his back. That's not to say all cyclists are sensible folks who abide by the Highway Code - we know that's not true because they are human beings and therefore just as flawed as anyone else, including car drivers.

Secondly, it's about body-positivity, celebrating the incredible diversity in shapes sizes and colours that we human beings come in. The perfect body is a myth promoted by advertisers to sell us stuff. They have to keep us insecure about our bodies (along with everything else) in order to keep us buying stuff. And they keep on finding new things to make us insecure about, as if that weren't bad enough.

Body-positivity is about acceptance of yourself and others just as they are. It's about silencing the inner critic. Of course, some people have louder and bitchier inner critics than others. That's why WNBR is Bare as You Dare - nudity is NOT compulsory, it's all down to your own comfort level. Have fun, get painted, decorate yourself and your bike in colourful ribbons and stuff. There are few things that shut up the inner critic more quickly than laughter and having fun.

So, to my friend who's reluctant to do it because she's put on a stone - I won't embarrass you by naming you - what the hell! Do it anyway! It's not a beauty contest and you look gorgeous anyway. You don't have be completely bare, but go. Have fun, and when you see the size and shape of other participants, maybe you'll feel encouraged enough to go for it anyway.

Puerile Humour

This is dreadfully scghoolboy-ish, but I couldn't resist. I thought the video was just so funny.

I love it when politicians are wrong-footed, and disrupting a political rally with a flying willy was brilliant. Shame it's Russian and not poor old Gordon that this happened to.

I was trying to post the actual vid, but it doesn't want to and I haven't got time to fart about working out how.

So, here's a link to The Flying Willy

And thanks to Spikey for blogging this first, or I wouldn't have known about it!