My Bodhisattvas and wise Teachers.

There are people in this world who move and awaken you, like a mirror they reflect the amazing potential that is inherent within, My life has been enhanced, transformed or touched by these beings, My Bodhisattvas, and wise Teachers. 

Introducing or remembering Juliette of the herbs

Have you heard of Juliette de Bairacli Levy, she has subtly changed my life.

A master herbalist, healer of animals, gypsy, holder of knowledge, a radical, naturalist, gardener and mother. I came across her writings years ago, I instantly adopted her as my wild woman empowerer, my wise and knowing grandmother. 

When ever I’m not sure of myself in the realms of healing my children, birthing, believing in the power of nature and its ways, I turn to my Juliette books and within seconds I’m strong again. 

The herbal lore is invaluable, yet it is an essence of this gypsy woman that I most learn from, Its her conviction to live a life that is harmonious, clear, and connected, to rely on natural remedies, body wisdom, and common sense. I get excited about sharing this woman with my friends. Over the years I have passed on three copies of her nature’s children book, instantly regretting it as soon as it’s out of my hand and subsequently ordering a new copy straight away.

A little while ago I heard whispers of a documentary about her, as some of my sisters out their share the Juliette Love, and finally I manifested a copy of it, I watched without blinking, trying to get a feel for this real Juliette, and comparing her with the woman whom I held so highly. I wasn’t disappointed and she lives on for me as a Queen of the herb-bordered roads the traveller’s road, the road of Adventure and belief in nature as nourisher, teacher and healer. 

Besides her herbal knowledge books on humans and animals, she chronicled her remarkable travels, her mothering and the gypsy lore learnt from fellow travellers, these adventures span the world- including Israel, Spain, England, Desert communities of the middle east, Mediterranean islands and the Americas in a series of books. 

I am currently devouring A Gypsy in New York.

If you come across her books, breath it in, there is much to be noted.
Gypsy Lane
by Juliette de Bairacli Levy

You shall die, and I shall die!
Take our places in the sky.
You and she, and he and I,
When the time comes, all must die.
That's a game we would play,
Man and woman, girl and lad,
In gypsy camps far away,
Laughing times, yet passing sad.

Poppy crowns for everyone,
Red rose for the fairest one.
We would shout, King Death to come,
Laughing loudly, turn and run.
Then more the cry! Who will die?
Nor he, nor she, and not I,
Want that fearful power to fly.

We would pass the hours that way,
Bed with Gypsies by cool streams,
Golden days of dance and play,
Harp and flute and tambourines.
But poppy crowns droop and fade, 
Feet grow weary, hearts afraid.
Time kills all in Gypsy Glade,
Flower and tree, man and maid.

Gone the Gypsies, every one,
All who played the Gypsy game,
Left the earth, its mirth and fun,
Starry nights and hyacinth lane.
None can play that game alone,
Thus I want to hear the cry,
Come now! Leave thy earthy home,
Join the Gypsies in the sky.

Here is a link for more info

Strawberries and where we're at

There has been a surge of enthusiasm for food preserving, with the first of many strawberries hauls. Not to mention the overwhelming task of putting 40 abundant rhubarb plants to good use. So I dusted of my beloved food drier, to have a go at rhubarb fruit leather and dried strawberry half’s. Dakini the Strawberry Goddess, is not so impressed, that bowls of sweet berries have been reduced to small pink flakes.

I am using these activities to introduce to my daughter, concepts such as weight, measurements, reduction and constituents of food, as well as imparting the value of preserving, growing and processing your own. Seasons and the eco system are briefed and hopefully she may (if she hasn’t already) glean the interdependence of all life.

This wonderful task of preserving the harvest is just beginning. Next is to process the artichokes that are filling up my fridge, and use up the greens in the garden, and soon it will be cherry picking time.

 Over the next few months our family will watch the fruit of figs, plums, apples and peach trees, now green, slowly turn bright and juicy.

I will use this space in the coming months to cronical our growing, harvesting and preserving efforts as well as our home school endeavours. 

Sorry for boring you all!  

If there are largish gaps between posts, well um, I’m busy in the kitchen or milking a cow.

...and now for the citrus update.

 I have taken the use of citrus to a new level, You can find me drying the peels, cutting them up and storing them for cakes and who knows what else, and actually who really knows why! 

The other exciting news in the world of compassionate gardening is that I can now catch my slug friends by putting an open side down, citrus half, in the garden and collecting them in the morning. I am sure they will have a lovely life at the letterbox, a few miles up the drive.

This homeschool/unschool thing is scary, just when I thought, I was oh so brave and powerful. I find out that a break-less 7 days with my children, week after week, is not so wonderful, not so beautiful, and not so educational!

yes i'm drowning you told me so, didn't you critics! 

Felting no Dreading

Its apt that last weekend my friend asked me to make dreads for her. I was going to spend the days felting angels from my lovely course, I have sent to me monthly by Marie at softartworld. Instead, I felted hair! Dreads are something I may do, they might just do me one day, considering my enthusiasm for hair brushing, I do love them so, the earthiness, the tangled wildness, the silhouette of a dreaded dancer in the moonlight!

Andrea before!

The process started with hair division, 

1 inch square separations, rubber banded, and then combed the wrong way, starting from the base and working upwards, add some bee’s wax, work it, roll it, abuse it. Done!

2 days later and that part was finished, rubber bands snipped and the maturation process began.

 Dreads always look better after time I do say. 

Making of dreads has much in common with what I have been crafting lately, such as choosing thick or thin yarn, /dreads and rubbing matting and teasing wool/hair. 

My friend was pleased, and it took way longer than I expected!

separating and banding

Rolling with Bees wax

Andrea after!

Half a Year

My baby turns 6 months today. He has already cut his first tooth, crawled and eaten his first food, avocado mixed with raw kefir yogurt, garden strawberries and oranges. Although his official first food was carrot sticks in a Tsog / Gana Puja a few weeks ago. (Tsog is a practice of blessing and offering food to all beings, including Buddha’s, there are many inner and outer meanings, but basically it is a way of generating good energy, and is symbolic of spiritual nourishment.)

His name Chimme, means without death, not in the sense of transcending death, but more in the way of being in essence, which is eternal/ immortal and without limitations of worldly beginnings and endings. His name came from dreams both my husband and I had, and we feel an auspiciousness surrounding him. He is my peaceful one, this love baby!

This is a boy who reminds me that joy is an innate quality; smiles can be for anything, anyone and all day. He tells me that it’s better to whinge, only when absolutely necessary, that’s his style and I’m lucky for it.

 This space is now 3 months old, and has brought me many things including, sweet needed connections, improvement in my communications, clarity of thought, and definition to aspects of myself not always emergent. I have gone from being slightly obsessed with this space to completely letting it go and now I’m back again.  

Dream on Dreamers!

Dharma or Drama

The end of the world, second coming, Revelations, Mayan prophecy, occupy Wall Street, natural disasters, Kali yuga, Nostradamus, Padmasabava, The degenerate age, and a yarn along.

Today I have been thinking a little about all the heavy speculation, concern and fear out there. Especially since, in the last weeks concerned friends have been flooding facebook with warnings, messages and possibility’s of the cosmic kind by the minute.

Another catalyst for my thinking, was a friend who sells veggie seedlings at the market, mentioning how this year, there has been a remarkable increase in people looking to grow there own food. I have also noticed the funky weather, and many other possible indicators of change afoot.

I live in an area where quite preparations for possible dramatic change, have been taking place since the 60s. And so, I have started to wonder if, I have been a bit laid back about it all! If the warning signals are valid! And if maybe I should quietly panic and prepare too.

I have often put the hype down to the human ego, which I believe can have a tendency, to feel so important, as to expect that after thousands of years of relative stability, the end of the world, age or stage would happen in their own life time.

My Precious Dzogchen teacher has mentioned a little on this topic, and it was something along the lines of -worry when its time to worry, and he didn’t seem worried at all.

But I’m a mother and my body constantly pumps to a rhythm of survive, thrive, prepare, be aware and besides, its all a bit exciting.

So I’m joining Ginny, over at Small things in the yarn along (my first one) and I apologise if my ramblings are a bit heavy, but in regards to what I was going on about up there, I thought I would pull out this hippy classic which is wonderful, hopeful, and helpful. - Survival into the 21 Century, a planetary healers manual. And as for knitting well this is the sweetest dress from Debbie Bliss’s essential Knits for kids book, In unconformingly hand spun wool, in both thick and thin.

Love and Peace out there!

Hula hooping

Weaving with a hula-hoop.

A few years ago I got into hooping, once a week, my daughter and I would meet with hula fanatics in the park, and hoop, juggle and fire twirl. 

 Then my lovely belly dance teacher introduced hooping into the class, and I got better, but it was in India that my skills really started to improve.

I met a traveller who had been carrying around a hoop strapped to her backpack for months, and in a mutually timed, sharing experience, it became mine.

So up on the roof of my guesthouse, I would do some yoga, meditate and hoop my heart out. I was getting tricky with it, and mastering harder moves, until we came back, to OZ and I fell pregnant with Chimme, and hula hooping was largely forgotten about.

One day in the blurry post baby stage, inspired by a weaving tutorial, I picked up my hoop again, and for 4 months until now, it has been a rag rug frame. It was an easy, fun project, perfect to do with kids and has infinite colour potential!

Although my rug didn’t turn out like I expected, and I ended up with a basket, (I pulled my rags a bit too tight it seems) it was a rather surprising, but happy ending!  Best of all, I have my hoop back, its warming up, its festival season, and I’m thinking about getting back into it.

The other thing that I appreciate with this craft activity, is the recycling or upcycling, of old tired shirts. Yay for that!

Welcome Thermos

Birth just never gets old… 

Bindi in the morning before...

Miss Bindi birthed her baby bull just before sunset yesterday. 

It was quick and dramatic, Im not going into details here, except to say, that the baby was breach, and had to be helped out. The experience was jaw dropping, hard-core, and wildly educational. No less magical, than a birth of our own species. 

Mother Bindi licked, cleaned and massaged her bub through the first hours of the night. The birth team stayed close, watching and making sure all stayed well. We called the babe Thermos, he will be protected here and hopefully live a long life. 

Legendary farmer to the rescue. 

One thing I noticed and wondered about, was the lack of umbilical cord and delivery of placenta, a bit of info I found, explained, that often the cord breaks during delivery and afterbirth can take up to 45days to come. Interesting isn’t it.

and well, it's milking time again!