Time Out…

Time Out…

Sometimes we have to take a step or a few steps back to catch our breath, take stock and maybe look at things from a different standpoint, perspective, whatever you want to call it.

Sometimes we get so caught up in our own minds, where the voices inside our heads clamour for attention giving us little or no peace at all.

We get side tracked,  we get lost, we go off at a tangent with no real sense of direction, no longer knowing where it is that we wanted to go in the first place. No wonder at times we feel lost, alone and a little stir crazy.

So, stepping back and even letting go of some stuff is a good thing! Actually, a great thing!

Anyway, hello again. It’s been a while since I wrote anything on here. Not because I did not want to but because I just did not know what to say, write, feel or even want to if I am honest but no, I did want to but was lost for words really. so there you have it. I have been feeling lost BUT I have decided to get a grip, give myself a kick and get myself out of this lockdown mentality. We are our own Gaolers (is that the right spelling?)

Life is what we choose to make it if we so choose to make it anything, and do you know what? I am in charge of my life, I hold the reins, the steering wheel, the accelerator and the brakes, I get to choose!

I choose a life of joy, adventure, ups and downs. I choose to live it my way, doing those things that make me feel alive.

So, here I am once more, for better for worse; in sickness and in health; for richer for poorer (though I would prefer richer). Not going to say ‘until death do us part’ as don’t like that bit!

That’s it for now! That’s all I have to say at this time! Oh, apart from I send you my very best wishes!

Blessed be!

Liola

© Liola Lee 2020

 

 

 

 

 

No holding of hands…

No holding of hands…

Who would have thought that we would be here?

A viral spreading the length of the land

Just elbows, no hugging,

No holding of hands.

Who would have believed a national lockdown?

The kids are off school, people are down.

Restrictions in place, queuing for food

Socially distant, a lowering mood.

The Country is in a state of distress,

The World all around, a Global mess.

Only essential travel allowed,

We’re in a Pandemic, under a cloud.

How did it happen? We’re really not sure,

Just what they tell us, a little not more.

A need to know basis, is what it seems,

Words and speeches, political stream.

The shelves were empty, clear and quite bare,

Toilet rolls, pasta, handwash not there.

In the beginning of this here dis-ease,

Buying in panic, shopping unease.

No gloves, no masks, no PPE,

Unless you pay a big fat fee,

Profiteering has appeared,

Raised its ugly head through fear.

Businesses closed, staff put on Furlough,

Banks giving loans, where once was unheard of.

Baking, making, crafting indoors,

Breads in the oven, no flour instore.

School now at home, parents now teachers,

Lessons online, and Zoom now a feature,

Of daily life as it has become,

For all of the many, and more and then some.

On the plus side, there really is,

Much that’s good, come out of this.

Neighbours showing much compassion,

Sharing love and sharing rations.

Frontline workers stepped up to the mark,

Caring and giving whatever the task.

The NHS and all those in service,

Giving their time just to serve us.

Every Thursday night each week,

People pour out, onto the street,

Pots and pans and clapping of  hands,

Heard for miles across the land.

Pollution has lowered, air is now cleaner,

Less cars on the road, environment greener.

Much to be learnt from this here disaster,

Will lessons be learnt being slower, not faster?

So much sadness for many lives lost,

So much delay, just look at the cost.

The death toll increased day by day,

The virus was staying not going away.

We have been in this together,

Life now different, life now tethered

To a new way, of how we do things,

Only time will tell, what that brings?

This will be a memory one day,

Record this time, have your say,

Write words down, tell your stories,

From the funny to the gory!

© Liola Lee 2020

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bake, Cakes and Lockdown…

Bake, Cakes and Lockdown…

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I would have liked to say that Lockdown lingers but linger would, it would be fair to say, be the incorrect word to employ or should I say utilise. Either way, it is a given to Writers or those of us like me (Wannabe Writers) that words need to work on the page, blog or speech where they appear, whether written or spoken out loud, and do their magic as powerfully, precisely and with as much punch as possible.  I am pretty certain or as sure as I can be that, at least for now that most of us are far from reluctant to see lockdown come to an end so ‘linger’ is not appropriate.  For how long lockdown continues remains to be seen, by us the masses, and decided by those in the know who compared to the masses ‘Us’ are the few.  It is a certainty, I think, that come to an end it will but what will life be like on the other side of this crisis that has unceremoniously thrown us all together, pretty much on the same side as it were.

People have been forced to take life at a slower pace (well, maybe apart from the runners who are still running here, there and everywhere weaving in and out of those of us who are wandering along aimlessly not in any hurry or not aimlessly but still in no hurry, while keeping an eye on our social distancing of course). We have all or maybe most of us, not really had much choice but to slow down and become snails in a smaller world, occupying our shells as best as we can.

Listening a little to the radio yesterday, I heard that no one can buy any flour, eggs, or other home baking items. The day before when I took over from my sister to care for our mum (something we do on a rotation system as she is a vulnerable person), my sister mentioned that she had been unable to purchase plain flour. To check it out I went to the shop to see if I could find any to buy for her. I joined the queue for half an hour or so, which was fine as the sun was shining and the weather undeniably warm. We British are experts at queueing. My turn to enter the store came round quickly enough I guess. My husband has queued  for much longer at times in the rain, so I am not complaining. Paying attention to the arrows on the floor, and the lines denoting how much distance to maintain, I eventually got to the home baking aisle. Unfortunately, just as my sister and the radio had said, the shelves were bare. Not a packet of flour to be seen nor even a single egg nor much else in fact. Strangely enough, the bread shelves in the neighbouring aisle were brimming and plenty to be had if you opted for shop bought.

So I ask, as possibly do numerous others ‘Where has all the flour gone?’

In those early weeks of lockdown, not really so long ago in the grand scheme of things if you think about it (though it seems like a lifetime ago now as we head towards the middle of the year); yes, in those weeks back towards the beginning of this horrendous crisis it was the toilet rolls, the cleaning products and the pasta that were flying fast off the shelves. Toilet roll for the first time ever was a newsworthy item. We were more concerned with the wiping of our derriere than we were with food. Though of course that did not last. It was not long before all the fruit and veg were being cleared too! For a while obtaining toilet roll continued to be a bone of contention. How times change from one moment to the next.

Things have calmed down now, and the panic buying during the earlier part of this ‘pig’ of a pandemic (I like Pigs and mean no disrespect to these omnivorous animals) has largely lost the momentum it had earlier on. So now, we can wipe our backsides, eat Italian and get our five a day if we so choose.

But I repeat, ‘Where has all the flour gone?’

It sounds a bit like the line of a song but is n’t yet, unless someone like the fabulously funny Matt Lucas gets all creative and  composes a follow up to ‘Thank You Baked Potato’, which if you have not heard it look it up as it is truly funny, while at the same time raising money for our wonderful NHS and encouraging thorough hand hygiene. Getting back to the flour; it seems everyone has suddenly become a baker, cake maker and King or Queen of the kitchen. Everyone wants to be a Mary Berry, a Jamie Oliver or a Nigella Lawson. This fascination with food is not new. Food is a big deal! You only have to scroll through social networking platforms to see how popular a topic it is, and with everyone being confined under lockdown people are busying themselves in the kitchen making all manner of wonderfully delectable culinary delights. In the main, cakes and home made bread seem to be the order of the day. So at least now we know where all the flour has gone. The British and not British public (we live in a culturally diverse society) have donned their aprons and are getting creative in the kitchen. When all is said and done, which it nearly is as I need to get something to eat as all this talk of cakes is making me hungry; people slowing down, spending time baking, making, mending, decorating and creating and spending quality time with their families is a good thing.

I wonder what life will be like after the lockdown, the social distancing, the queueing, food shortages and restrictions? I wonder if we will learn the lessons that are presenting themselves in this larger than life scenario? Will we remember to be grateful for the small things, the big things and of course each other? Will we continue to be good neighbours, better parents, and better all round humans beings after all this becomes just a memory?

I hope so! Stay well, stay safe and just for now continue to stay home and if you are out and about, in the words of Sting (Popstar for those who are not familiar), ‘Don’t stand so close to me’ , not yet anyway.

Happy baking!

Be blessed!

© Liola Lee 2020

Just writing away a bit of time this afternoon. As I sat at my keyboard, I did not really know what I was going to write, if anything (that happens sometimes…alot), so just went with whatever came to mind. It’s certainly no masterpiece but it at least gets my writing muscle exercising a little, and my brain into gear. The image is of my birthday cake last year  captured on my iPhone (made for me by my lovely talented friend Elaine). This time last year we were travelling back from beautiful Somerset in the West Country and stopped by my friend’s house in the lovely village of Croscombe. We were treated to a delicious lunch and then I was presented with this lovely and truly delicious work of art.

 

 

Finding my way

Finding my way

Three steps forward, six steps back. Seems to be how it goes for me just now or not even just now but for ages. I get all fired up and impassioned (is that a word?) with ideas, thoughts, musings and plans for new projects of this, that and the other, only to find the wind blown out of my sails surely and suddenly from something or someone or most likely my own sensitive/oversensitive self.

Growing up, my Dad, my beautiful and oh so gentle Dad would tell me quietly on one and many occasions that I was too sensitive! My beautiful Mum would reinforce this idea of me being too sensitive or oversensitive but in much more direct terms.

And yes, they were both right! I am sensitive! Or over sensitive by many but not all people’s standards! I take things to heart! I over analyse! I think too much! I overthink everything! I hurt easily!

I am it seems, apparently an empath? I feel what others feel! Not only emotionally but sometimes physically (I get aches and pains, sometimes for no apparent reason and they seem to mirror those of people I am close to). I pick up on people’s moods, tensions and even thoughts. I do not want to if I am honest but it is just how it is.

I carried out a bit of research on this, and discovered that being an Empath is not all bad.  In fact, it seems that it can even be a gift, if I can learn how to psychically protect myself. I am trying to learn various techniques to do just this: from buying an Obsidian Unicorn to visualising myself surrounded by a circle of white or pink light (place myself in a protective bubble as it were). Sometimes it seems to work but then sometimes, the bubble bursts and all hell breaks loose!

The thing is, I am only just learning who I am! I am, I guess like many people, a work in progress, still being sculpted, moulded, designed and created or maybe recreated.

I am not there yet! I have, I think a long way to go but I am on a journey, my journey. I am not sure where I am going just yet but I will get there in the end!

Wishing you all well on your journey! Let’s exchange stories as we go!

Blessed be!

Liola x

© Liola Lee

Just before my husband left for fishing we were discussing something said from yesterday evening, and he told me I was far too sensitive. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wellies, Weebles and Wobbles

Wellies, Weebles and Wobbles

While working at wheeling my barrow into the field my foot became well and truly stuck in the mud. It felt as though my foot was sinking, and sinking fast. It was a horrible feeling as I felt almost as though I had no control, and would surely fall flat on my backside at any moment, which may have been preferable to falling down flat on my face or maybe not?  The more I tried to lift my foot with wellie boot intact, the more I felt, I was being sucked into the sludge in squelching splendour. I am pleased to report that I managed to keep my balance, my boot stayed on and I did not wobble like a weeble and fall down. (‘Weebles wobble but they don’t fall down’; Weebles were little egg shaped toy people that could be bought when my eldest son was just a little boy. A popular toy at the time). Actually, I did wobble a bit but quickly found my centre and stayed upright. However, falling down was a distinct possibility!

We all fall down at times. Sometimes we fall suddenly and unexpectedly, and at other times we see it coming and for some reason that we cannot fathom, we just cannot stop ourselves, no matter how hard we try, and down we go.

But here is the thing! We can fall, and stay stuck in the mud as it were OR we can get ourselves back up after a fall,  and work out why we fell in the first place. Perhaps we were not looking where we were going. Perhaps it was external factors at play that we had not prepared for. Perhaps it was trying too hard not to fall down as in what we resist persists. Sometimes when we try really hard not to do something, we end up doing it anyway. Why is that, I wonder? So what can we do, if we are to avoid falling down and getting stuck in the mud?

Well, I did not have to go into the field yesterday if the truth is to be told. I could see that Storm Dennis had turned the field into a quagmire of brown squidgy silt of sorts. No, I did not have to venture forth but venture forth I did, and why did I do that? To quell my OCD about keeping my field poo free. Yes, I did say ‘poo’ but I am talking here of horse droppings. Keeping the field clear from horse droppings reduces the worm burden in the field. Some people are obsessive over ‘poo picking’ (myself here included), and others are not. The bottom line is that I could have waited a day or two but chose not to wait. So, getting stuck in the mud, and having a NFE (Near Fall Experience) was of my own making but I did not fall down and get stuck in the mud, though I most certainly could have. I regained my balance and my composure, and came unstuck and stayed standing. The ‘poo’ was picked up as it were, and promptly without any pomp and circumstance, disposed off on the muck heap back on the yard. A job well done!

The moral of this story is that sometimes we can find ourselves stuck in the mud. Sometimes we fall, only to get ourselves back up, and move on. Sometimes we manage to stay upright after a few wobbles and keep our wellies on!

Blessed be!

Liola

© Liola Lee 2020