tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91587592041620140202024-02-19T08:41:08.667+00:00HagthornHagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.comBlogger46125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-44602589090397636612018-02-19T19:35:00.000+00:002018-02-19T19:35:58.045+00:00Nine Years<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
Nine years ago this afternoon</div>
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You were putting the kettle on.</div>
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Making a cup of tea.</div>
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Answering e-mails.</div>
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The future still imagined.</div>
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If I knocked on your door</div>
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I would see you again,</div>
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Walking along the hall to open it.</div>
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So ordinary.</div>
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Still here.</div>
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The sea holds a part of you </div>
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So it’s where I come,</div>
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And write your name in the sand</div>
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With shells, and as I finish,</div>
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The top of ‘P’ has walked away!</div>
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I realise your name will be dispersed</div>
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By tiny legs even before the waves</div>
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Can take you, and it’s like the beach</div>
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Is coming alive, to make us laugh.</div>
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Everything is absurd.</div>
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Afternoon grows into evening</div>
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Small bodies wriggle between</div>
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the shells of their ancestors</div>
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Waiting for the tide</div>
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To take them home. </div>
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And you would be there </div>
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Swivelling in your chair</div>
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In front of the computer.</div>
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If I rang your phone now</div>
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There is still time</div>
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For you to answer.</div>
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Hagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-31357256129861361192017-02-19T22:06:00.001+00:002017-08-01T20:55:44.018+01:00Eight Years<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: medium;">Four years ago I made a little film to get through the difficult February days that still felt so raw. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: medium;">It totally absorbed me and helped a lot:</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: medium;"><a href="http://youtu.be/6gyPyKZbJhE" id="id_f968_d791_9b5e_9cfe" target="_blank">For My Brother</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: medium;">Now another four years have passed! A</span><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: medium;">nother February 19th and 20th shuddering across the rift in the fabric of our personal universe.</span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.7019607843137254);"><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">As always I walk along the beach, empty my thoughts into the waves, listen to them breaking on the stones. </span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">These words have been in my mind today, found recently on a card designed by artist Freya Ete.</span></span></div>
<a href="http://www.freya-art.com/" id="id_37a_8794_d8b4_9542" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: medium;">Freya Ete</span></a><br />
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<img alt="" id="id_14d8_e064_3262_ca29" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUb3_WQx6hDzEJRH2y8hTSvjLmByYkgjqmIPRxBUs96uXX3Hu9Ccl5ZXQOsi1iucjp6FsGK83_2h1nAt_r_fr61llSvomVIA5VqWJ6xyi3ddCMh2ofN3O92allLAzUBkxYX70MAx7hcLQ/" style="height: auto; width: 766px;" title="" tooltip="" /> </div>
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<span style="color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.701961); font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 19px;">I tell myself a story, how there was a benevolent tide that night, soothing and comforting. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.701961); font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 19px;">Gathering you safely away from the clutches of the demons you fought with. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.701961); font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 19px;">Not so much bracing, as embracing. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.701961); font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 19px;">Not so much drowning you, as drowning your sorrows.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.701961); font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 19px;">Gathering the beauty of you.</span></div>
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<span style="color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.701961); font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 19px;">Gathering with kindness, </span></div>
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<span style="color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.701961); font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 19px;">gathering into the warm shining arms of family </span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.701961); font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 19px;">who had passed before, gathering you home. </span></div>
</div>
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<span style="color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.701961); font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.701961); font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 19px;">I tell myself a story, how you were in the company of the stars above you, guiding and reassuring.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.701961); font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 19px;">Lighting your way with such a welcoming glow you could never be lost again.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.701961); font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 19px;">Not so much alone in the dark, as igniting your own spark.</span></div>
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<span style="color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.701961); font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 19px;">Not so much dying, as flying, high and free.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.701961); font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 19px;">Knowing the beauty of you.</span></div>
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<span style="color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.701961); font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 19px;">Knowing how much you were loved,</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">how love will always be gathered in the folds of the hearts </span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">you left behind on the shore, keeping you safe.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">'All the most beautiful things are gathered by the tide'</span></span></div>
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<img alt="" id="id_6350_6e35_6a1c_3104" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUPkpnW4IdmPXEsgSjj_an7y3yU0k1yu1yDF8b_oY7aPmPIyHxKvbXmKEe-9bHCwwf9NQrlf87wLBZIc6hqBG7Pvo65v4CL4zwE1brDrK4U1S6SIYK73-RtxdEnouJl2QzgKBT-fm94OA/" style="height: auto; width: 773px;" title="" tooltip="" /> 0<span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br /></span></span></div>
Hagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-1722541345404794332016-09-06T14:17:00.000+01:002016-09-06T23:23:35.561+01:00Not-Back-To-School againThe start of the new Not-Back-To-School year is always a time to take stock of where we've come to.<br />
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Having been home-educated his whole life, my 15yr old teen has never experienced the September thrill of standing at the front door for a photo in his new uniform. So with a pang of guilt this morning for what he's missed out on, I did consider sneaking into his room at about 11am to get a proud mummy moment pic of him wrapped up sleeping in his relatively recently laundered duvet. But then the moment seemed too sacred to disturb ;)<br />
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It's two years since I wrote a lengthy piece on not going back to school. I re-read it this morning and saw that this was written just one month before his father unexpectedly left and our entire personal and educational life changed and I can now confirm the truth of that old Philip Larkin quote 'They fuck you up, your mum and dad'. Which is a challenging truth to face in relation to yourself and all the expectations and intentions that you wanted and dreamed of providing for your child.<br />
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Home educating as a single parent has not been easy. But it is still my son's choice. And I am still committed to an educational philosophy and practice that is about consent; that honours individual choice and freedom; that trusts a person to learn what has meaning and value for them without coercion. A practice which trusts that even when things go wrong and at times when the ground appears frozen, infertile and broken, the most unexpected seedlings can emerge to surprise you, in places no one could have mapped out, and in ways no one else could have imagined, much less prescribed.<br />
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I don't believe in compulsory curriculums but if I had to create one, it would include a lot about RESILIENCE when the world, or somebody, or yourself and your own demons, tries to break you. It would be about trusting in those diehard seedlings that will spring up out of the asphalt to amaze and inspire you, make you smile and take you on a whole new adventure of growth and opportunity. Sometimes schools or elsewhere can teach this better than some children's home lives can (and it goes without saying that there are some awesome and inspiring, if tired and frustrated, teachers) but facilitating learning in a voluntary, cooperative and individually tailored way without a focus on grades and exams, requires a huge shift in the State approach to education.<br />
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So we're still here, being pretty damn resilient in most cases, and looking back, we've done quite a big mix of stuff but a couple of things that have been a particularly big part of life over the past year (which I have slightly complicated feelings about) are:<br />
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* unrestricted 'screen time' (although I am not allowed to use the generic term of 'screen time' as he points out that it derogatively lumps together a hugely diverse range of activities, media, tutorials, films, game playing, game development, coding, communication with friends, digital art, music etc).<br />
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* virtual reality - possibly the most potent escape and distraction from your own life that there can be without chemicals, whilst you're still sitting in your own bedroom (though personally I prefer a good book!). So we've climbed Everest and been in space and under the earth in caves, but my favourite was sat in a jazz bar with Vincent Van Gogh looking out at a starry sky...<br />
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I'm guessing that the following year will be more of the same, the ups and downs, the planned and the unexpected, the moving on towards adulthood whatever that means (I'm still trying to figure out what that one's about).<br />
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And as for a new 'school' year pic - well my son doesn't want one, so here's a pic I took at a home ed camp last year of a cute beetle going about her day just doing her own thing, which is sometimes the most excellent achievement of all.<br />
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<br />Hagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-76849605324213454212015-12-11T14:09:00.000+00:002016-09-06T14:16:26.996+01:00Calais Visit 3<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.5pt; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif";">Since I got back from Calais I’ve been noticing clothes a lot
more. I realise that after just a few days my mind has become fairly acutely
attuned to categorising things in terms of ‘suitable’ and ‘unsuitable’. That
is, suitable or unsuitable for protection in a refugee camp, in Winter. The
distinction between the two, representing much more than a piece of clothing.
The ‘yes’ and ‘no’ piles representing a distinction between on the one side -
entitlement; privilege; resources; choices... Whilst on the other side –
survival. Mostly that – survival, and the retaining of human dignity.</span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14.5pt;">Last night at work back in the UK (welcoming people coming to
the Panto) I noticed the men wearing thin clean white jumpers (there were quite
a few) and suddenly the ‘unsuitable’ label pops into my mind shining a light on
the simple privilege I wouldn’t have considered before Calais. Thin white
jumpers which assume heating and clothes-washing facilities and a frequent
change of clothes. Jumpers which in Calais would have been thrown firmly on the
‘no’ pile.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14.5pt;">I notice people wearing shoes – that is, any kind of footwear
that is not a trainer (suitable for running to jump on lorries/trains) or
wellies/hiking boots (suitable for walking on muddy, flooded, bumpy ground).
‘Unsuitable’ shoes which assume the privilege of having solid even floors and
pavements to walk on. Footwear which does not require the judgement of being
more or less likely to give you trench foot...</span><br />
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14.5pt;">Fellow volunteers – when I close my eyes I’m still searching the
waist sizes of jeans! And taping boxes...</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr09qfezwG8D-uiP7bIHTgnHDfpG9H2wt0m6bRGJHWWeoCWDRTtL8MrKcRyP_ikkYAWEH4JSXV357i9Rt5HfKX0DMR72t9YqZY0MBO7opTUVDSeUnwBDVPsM3KWKr_O6K9KkpiMv4a3TU/s1600/boxes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="line-height: 14.5pt; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr09qfezwG8D-uiP7bIHTgnHDfpG9H2wt0m6bRGJHWWeoCWDRTtL8MrKcRyP_ikkYAWEH4JSXV357i9Rt5HfKX0DMR72t9YqZY0MBO7opTUVDSeUnwBDVPsM3KWKr_O6K9KkpiMv4a3TU/s640/boxes.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh1dlo2z1eAWVuoQSIlb7nQNCjCWMp7x05Cwzv_R3zYKaTbcyt01cdURYIaSVa43fiWLox2xho3-O-XMMQOx0v7gXuYEaAPUkB4kP-8EWF7v1BAgNbVw3_MuOnGCnTwtEUh0nl_pJG-II/s1600/boxes+careforcalais.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh1dlo2z1eAWVuoQSIlb7nQNCjCWMp7x05Cwzv_R3zYKaTbcyt01cdURYIaSVa43fiWLox2xho3-O-XMMQOx0v7gXuYEaAPUkB4kP-8EWF7v1BAgNbVw3_MuOnGCnTwtEUh0nl_pJG-II/s640/boxes+careforcalais.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14.5pt;">And seeing so many faces – the faces of the people who stood in
the long line to take the toiletry packs we handed them from the back of the
van. I am remembering all their faces – the smiles, the laughing ‘hello’s’ and
‘thank you’s’, the faces with pain in them, the downcast eyes, the joking, the
disappointed faces, the hopeful and the resigned. The bald man taking the
shampoo and catching my questioning expression - ‘yes, yes, I need’ as he rubs
his head laughing. Laughing together.</span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14.5pt;">I see the faces of the two young men from Afghanistan and hear
their voices telling us about arriving on the boat in Greece, how scary it was,
and about how they felt so touched by the kindness of people welcoming them
ashore with cups of tea and biscuits, how they would never forget it.</span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14.5pt;">I see the woman and young boy carrying a crate of bananas
between them. There must have been a fruit distribution. Suddenly there are
lots of people holding apples and bananas. A man who sees me tying bin bags
around the fence where a rubbish point is, offers his banana. The generosity of
people is so incredibly humbling.</span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14.5pt;">I see the faces of the boys walking alongside our car drawing
hearts in the raindrops running down our windows.</span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14.5pt;">I smile seeing the little girl who is laughing and laughing, and
sticking her tongue out at these funny people who have turned up in her field
and are doing such a silly dance ‘Oh the hokey cokey...’ and insisting on
sharing her smarties with us.</span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14.5pt;">I see the woman’s face as she steps out from between the tents
and we smile at each other and she is nodding her head to me, and it feels like
between both of us there is a big longing unspoken welcome. I have never
realised until that moment, how deeply it feels a smile, merely a genuine
smile, can connect hearts through untold boundaries and differences. I can
still feel her smile in my heart.</span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; line-height: 14.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; line-height: 14.5pt;">Our team – dropping donations; building shelters; repairing
homes; working in the medic caravan; teaching English in the library; making up
and distributing food parcels; sorting shoes; making up and distributing
clothing and toiletry packs; joining a peaceful protest organised by refugees
about the boy killed on the road and demanding to be treated as human beings;
talking to people... Just four days of helping where we could, which is such a
tiny drop in the ocean of support and change that is so desperately needed. It
feels so inadequate, because it is. But if you are able to go, for whatever
amount of time, please go. It will make a difference and sometimes the
difference that it will make could be immeasurable. And there are amazing
volunteers there who would really appreciate some help<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="color: #3b5998; font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; line-height: 14.5pt;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/care4calais/" style="line-height: 14.5pt;">https://www.facebook.com/care4calais/</a></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #141823; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #141823; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">One
time when we were working in the warehouse, the dance track that was playing
had the words ‘to understand is to transform’. It stuck in my mind. By
participating in the work here, by meeting the people, we gain an understanding
that no amount of media can give, and it is transforming. How much this has the
power to transform the appalling and shocking injustice and harm taking place
at Calais and to refugees around the world, is yet to be seen. But the old
adage is clear – we can’t wait for our ‘leaders’ to do the right thing, we need
to be the change we wish to see. And keep on moving towards understanding.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK0_Qlrzu1UlaNts2GhsoN2hZEGdotYFgm7x1abm-j6BLzzCKHMk0zdbfRjZJ0sBw-LpiNDL4iLmujq578hSxm4Z9cbQHKRklMPIgYgm75hvgKX4RKuZ6ykhZVf-c3MprxMOFAqFvDmDQ/s1600/trees.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK0_Qlrzu1UlaNts2GhsoN2hZEGdotYFgm7x1abm-j6BLzzCKHMk0zdbfRjZJ0sBw-LpiNDL4iLmujq578hSxm4Z9cbQHKRklMPIgYgm75hvgKX4RKuZ6ykhZVf-c3MprxMOFAqFvDmDQ/s640/trees.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>Hagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-10977275389559733772015-10-06T21:49:00.000+01:002016-05-03T22:01:59.169+01:00Calais Visit 2<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Our first stop was at the L’auberge des migrants warehouse
where we spent a couple of hours stocking up vans for the convoy we were
joining for the afternoon’s distribution. We combined our blankets, sleeping
bags and tents with those of others so that each van only contained one type of
item for a more efficient and quick distribution once at the jungle. Other items
were put in their relevant categories in the warehouse where we joined other
volunteers sorting through the mountain of clothes. </span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj99GxbeA4C9WpjoWcVGgnY-4CT90IIboB_RSCKemalbNFLwXjiqsj5XyD0usVRzyodxECMLz60NIhJQS2AzPHTGN8hytryx-7Y-8McCuJ6hbwDb2q1mqyPI1uBiVkgRRhF3u1UrXCNizE/s1600/donations.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj99GxbeA4C9WpjoWcVGgnY-4CT90IIboB_RSCKemalbNFLwXjiqsj5XyD0usVRzyodxECMLz60NIhJQS2AzPHTGN8hytryx-7Y-8McCuJ6hbwDb2q1mqyPI1uBiVkgRRhF3u1UrXCNizE/s640/donations.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Donations at L'Auberge des Migrants</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPhEUxyQRSQBvDlnRXWQrLgd1ZuNoQ64CJlQLYpVTpfaVZaC_l4Sa-paVOMrCA244R5BJmEgY31H2PeOVimXb-f5Xwo5x5C-SqgXaSX8IR6cBiB4A98XKXgpHYhv7KFfG_djwdimNOsjA/s1600/sleeping+bags+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPhEUxyQRSQBvDlnRXWQrLgd1ZuNoQ64CJlQLYpVTpfaVZaC_l4Sa-paVOMrCA244R5BJmEgY31H2PeOVimXb-f5Xwo5x5C-SqgXaSX8IR6cBiB4A98XKXgpHYhv7KFfG_djwdimNOsjA/s200/sleeping+bags+-+Copy.jpg" width="195" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">More donations were arriving all the time and lots more
people are desperately needed to help with sorting through it all, so that it’s
possible to get it where it’s needed in the camp. If anyone’s got any days to
spare- the warehouse needs you! I filled my empty car with items not required, to
bring them back home instead of adding to the growing disposal issue in the
warehouse. An enormous truckload of pallets turned up which was brilliant as
shelter-building is the big thing in Calais over the next couple of months. The
pallets are making great floors for the new structures which are rapidly going
up each day in the camp.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR4ciwGE8mv90L5dF7FbI7aDcqePL1EjuX42kFqyKDKLc_locF-FtU8f5nnkpfXdxlzXxmqfHaID7dW7LZfzztrydlohijS69V38Itud3z2z8BEO68oAEONIu3T-LRLZeSkviIAEbIFWU/s1600/blankets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="126" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR4ciwGE8mv90L5dF7FbI7aDcqePL1EjuX42kFqyKDKLc_locF-FtU8f5nnkpfXdxlzXxmqfHaID7dW7LZfzztrydlohijS69V38Itud3z2z8BEO68oAEONIu3T-LRLZeSkviIAEbIFWU/s200/blankets.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Once in the camp the vans were opened one at a time or far
enough away from each other so as to keep things as calm as possible. People
formed the familiar lines behind the vans and if not helping with the actual
distribution procedure we took the opportunity to chat a bit with people who
were waiting. I was struck by how much joking, laughter and smiles were shared
with us, the ability of people to keep such a strong sense of humour under the
harsh and awful conditions they are surviving in. Others talked of their
journeys or their families elsewhere. It’s hard to hold back the tears. The man
who wanted to show us his phone video of his children left behind in Syria, film
of them laughing and in his arms, “I miss them so much”. Saying he hadn’t been
able to speak to them for a week now and had heard there had been a bomb just a
couple of houses away. He had felt the journey could be more dangerous for them
so he left first to try and secure a safe home in the UK which he could bring
them to. How hard to weigh up the least dangerous decision of only inherently
dangerous options.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWPHpl-OSFuTIDQpKfHDvHmKdfWxp2w85lbivpNNCin_UMjKckurLk_YH_cAQnVrDK0IybN81MjVdCYpvpf35ww_Cub9RSxMnh2Kdkaq4-Ra3C96XmvsZ3SBq3K6BjqshspAN5bj1EFDw/s1600/the+best+UK.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWPHpl-OSFuTIDQpKfHDvHmKdfWxp2w85lbivpNNCin_UMjKckurLk_YH_cAQnVrDK0IybN81MjVdCYpvpf35ww_Cub9RSxMnh2Kdkaq4-Ra3C96XmvsZ3SBq3K6BjqshspAN5bj1EFDw/s640/the+best+UK.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Another thing which was striking over our visit was the
generosity of people. People wanting to share their small amount of food or
make us tea, serve us a meal, offer a chair to sit on... So many greetings
“Hello, how are you?”and shaking of hands. Constantly feeling humbled by the
people we meet.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We dropped several boxes of tools, diy stuff, tarps etc to
the builder’s corner which is a constant hive of activity, hammering and
sawing, putting the frames together for the ‘houses’ which are replacing the
inadequate tents for the growing numbers of families, women and children coming
to the camp. I was told an estimate of about 200 more people are arriving each
day. I met several people just arriving while I was there, looking a bit
bewildered, tired or asking where they could find medical care. There is
nowhere near enough medical care for all those who need it. The shelters are
based on priority need, families with children, so for now, many are turned
away when approaching for wood or ‘houses’. This is where I decided to plant a
large amount of my donation cash as it feels like this is the most urgent need
at the moment with colder weather, rain and Winter coming.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbw6WbMMWT31u-JjZn8rJziNefImXN5Wt0xVMVLLSm0rUYvpi5GcKVUEqI9GZPGnSfilktvQ_wSdiDarkyCGitQDVwSRgHsmXBxAQGkZ-CoOexfW8-Htq8GGyj7WdtP6A7qTJAPMgVYhg/s1600/building+shelters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbw6WbMMWT31u-JjZn8rJziNefImXN5Wt0xVMVLLSm0rUYvpi5GcKVUEqI9GZPGnSfilktvQ_wSdiDarkyCGitQDVwSRgHsmXBxAQGkZ-CoOexfW8-Htq8GGyj7WdtP6A7qTJAPMgVYhg/s640/building+shelters.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">In this field, we also arrived while a great community
atmosphere was being expressed through Kurdish music and dancing, which we
clapped along or joined in with. The resilience of spirit again which is so
evident here! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
http://rudaw.net/NewsDetails.aspx?pageid=162706<br />
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The amazing smile of the pregnant woman I talked with, pointing
to her belly and saying “nine month”, about to give birth living in her tent
here with the life-threatening level of hygiene issues within the camp – how
could anyone find this situation acceptable and not entirely shameful of our
governments?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I went back to the car for some more tools, two small
girls were playing, running hand in hand laughing through the grass amongst the butterflies...The shining beauty of these
young lives held captive and placed in danger here by our Government’s cruel
border policies. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5N6iJlM2Pg71N4cKR3yhfLTa-OhY8ytNf474ZyDo15OJZmc838yRGSM0eA74MpYHEOh_T6N_J5DYUSCctDJWOlmP5zUuRfc9SCOFDgML9E1TxIS-dWnDvKnsZcfA1ZYpUKvuRnrg8UjI/s1600/two+girls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5N6iJlM2Pg71N4cKR3yhfLTa-OhY8ytNf474ZyDo15OJZmc838yRGSM0eA74MpYHEOh_T6N_J5DYUSCctDJWOlmP5zUuRfc9SCOFDgML9E1TxIS-dWnDvKnsZcfA1ZYpUKvuRnrg8UjI/s640/two+girls.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">As we drove back to the tunnel we passed groups of men on
the long walk to risk their lives again in the nightly attempt to cross to the
UK, and wished so deeply that we could assist them safely to a new life in
safety. </span></div>
Hagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-47624666230982491672015-08-29T20:38:00.000+01:002016-05-03T21:54:10.463+01:00Calais Visit 1<div style="background-color: white; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16.08px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;">
I just returned from visiting the refugee camp at Calais and have been asked by several people to tell how it all went and I feel strangely stuck -<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: normal;"> I think because of the enormity that it touches on, and the
immensity of feeling that arises from directly looking into the eyes of someone
asking you with such desperation for a blanket, or for shoes and knowing your
country's politicians and media are doing their best to erase their humanity.
And because the words - sorry I have no more shoes, sorry there are no more
blankets left - make me feel ashamed and make my heart hurt.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The first person to approach me was an elderly man who was pointing
through the car window, asking quietly for a blanket. And for trousers. I
wanted him to wait so that I could get him a blanket and trousers. He was
saying 'I came from Pakistan' and was starting to say more, but there were a
lot of people gathering and I lost him before I opened the car, distracted by
police threatening to pepper spray people. I don't know why the police turned
up threatening to spray people. I wondered if it is partly to put people off
from bringing aid. I have heard his voice and seen his face in my mind all day
today. I really hope he gets a blanket from someone else soon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Other faces and voices are still being processed in my mind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sister, why did you not give me a jacket?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Because you were not in the line, I'm sorry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But I waited for an hour.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I'm sorry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Look at my feet, I have no shoes. Please you have shoes?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Lots of people showed me their feet in their split shoes or their
flip-flops.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sorry - I will bring more shoes next time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Please a blanket, I am cold. Very cold at night, I cannot sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;">There are no blankets left, I am sorry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Shoes, please. There are no shoes left.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I took no photo's. I would have liked to, but each time I thought to
reach for my phone, it didn't feel appropriate. French TV crew turned up and
continued to film despite being asked to stop. A person's dignity. A person's
consent. Concepts for the media to reflect upon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As we were about to leave, a young boy, maybe 8 or 9, came to the car.
The car was empty now except for a bag of pots of party bubbles I had brought
in case I met any children. I pass him the bag and when he looks inside his
face turns into a big excited open-mouthed smile. That moment. I don't know
anything about him or what difficulties he had journeyed through to end up
living in the appalling conditions of this refugee camp but even if I had
brought nothing else that day, it was worth it to see that boy's smile and to
bring him some moments of bubble fun.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Despite my car not being a van I had managed to pack in what had been
almost a whole roomful of stuff that had been collected in my house, leaving
out only a couple of bagfuls. Compared to the need, it felt next to nothing,
but when I started to feel deflated by how minimal our contribution, I was
reminded that it was not nothing... Thank you Hayley...Tonight some people will
sleep in a tent or under duvets or in sleeping bags that they didn't have
before. Some people will be wearing warmer clothes, wearing shoes on their
feet, brushing their teeth, eating organic beans... Someone will be playing
swingball and some kids will be blowing bubbles. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It's a tiny sticking plaster that leaves me feeling sickened, sad and
angry at our politicians lack of humanity, but nourished by the goodness of
people who are taking some responsibility into their own hands, however small, and
refusing to buy into a narrative that is becoming more cruel, and more wrong
each day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Hagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-80627002644114936432015-05-13T21:32:00.000+01:002015-05-13T21:32:13.416+01:00Early Evening On Milton Common
<br />
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<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Apple blossom and May flowers.<br />
A fox sat still in the evening sun staring.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Buttercups and boats sailing.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Something about the clouds... and childhood. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mine.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Laying in the summer grass near a round wood.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And my mum, knowing the names of everything. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Clouds, birds, flowers...<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Enough blue sky to make sailors trousers forever.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Or so I thought.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Somewhere tonight my Dad is walking amongst
bluebells <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">and I was too busy to go with
him.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Everyone I pass is hand in hand<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">and the birds are flying together, home.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Mind insistently settles on everything that has
gone wrong.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">...When a little dog tears through my thoughts<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Scattering them into a million fragments of now<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">each one exclaiming Look! We are alive! </span></span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Catch me! </span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>This</strong> <em>here</em> is all there is<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And all there ever was... </span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s enough.</span></span><br />
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicI4LKxioF5okJpGa0n8amJFzABAU0uOJlsdyegY4UY9fZ9tbXuCigd2DP_WQzqMamAWfcAHE-11fFU6riS1PmopaHfLvZ4muVEq2gYY1bgbgNAH3CUgKlvb9Blh5E2bB-zGZzdUvuKJQ/s1600/clouds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicI4LKxioF5okJpGa0n8amJFzABAU0uOJlsdyegY4UY9fZ9tbXuCigd2DP_WQzqMamAWfcAHE-11fFU6riS1PmopaHfLvZ4muVEq2gYY1bgbgNAH3CUgKlvb9Blh5E2bB-zGZzdUvuKJQ/s640/clouds.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
Hagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-70308147364973995062015-05-01T17:42:00.000+01:002015-05-01T17:42:32.928+01:00Beltane Blessings!So, Beltane, a day of freely frolicking about in the woods with my love and an evening of wild dancing around the flames under the open sky...?<br />
<br />
Actually today was passing just like most others over the last six months, in a mad rush of no time and lots of stress and seemingly endless pressure to stretch time and energy over many competing elements, and coping with the continued fallout of sadly very estranged relations with ex-love... when I decided to stop.<br />
<br />
Just for five minutes. Stop. And count my blessings.<br />
<br />
Five minutes to give thankful thoughts to the people who keep love alive in my life, and help me to sustain a passion for life, because that's what Beltane's about. So... my most passionate Beltane thank you to some very amazing people who I can't actually imagine my life without.<br />
<br />
Here's four of them, when I managed to squeeze in a quick walk to some bluebell woods earlier this week inbetween the madness :<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUMfQeVQAmkIcDPHD2mdGWBAPNc2d84lYdk2yYFjqv8zOOCe3djX2uaNroLYPvfStwVw5rIPQoFqM7gNU1R4dXOyYRwUCkfZAVDF1J0zhp6gkWzFGd09RoO6lkmsqiVZC-vKIrzSXUqfg/s1600/IMG_3283.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUMfQeVQAmkIcDPHD2mdGWBAPNc2d84lYdk2yYFjqv8zOOCe3djX2uaNroLYPvfStwVw5rIPQoFqM7gNU1R4dXOyYRwUCkfZAVDF1J0zhp6gkWzFGd09RoO6lkmsqiVZC-vKIrzSXUqfg/s1600/IMG_3283.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
And this picture represents the richness and sweetness and lightly whipped melt in the mouth deliciousness of good friends and their ability to lift the spirit! I collected a parcel from the post office today (smelt the sweet hawthorn blossoms as I whizzed past on my bike!) which contained a beautiful box of these finely crafted homemade vegan meringues, and me and my son had the pleasure of a lovely unexpected mid-afternoon Beltane feast! <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfYOjQG7Go0RDIxa66s2N2q6hupirSY1ab5I6VszRFwaaaWqTqm2hwvMpCuvUm34c5BQYR0jVT4RfQZ2dpHFTyP97ybTd3vrLtX9PTnP1yJvdfY9IDr3m0CqNZWKaZbU1Z81-CyFj5im0/s1600/meringue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfYOjQG7Go0RDIxa66s2N2q6hupirSY1ab5I6VszRFwaaaWqTqm2hwvMpCuvUm34c5BQYR0jVT4RfQZ2dpHFTyP97ybTd3vrLtX9PTnP1yJvdfY9IDr3m0CqNZWKaZbU1Z81-CyFj5im0/s1600/meringue.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Thank you to amazing friends (and brilliant cousins) who have been there on the phone or through the post, or in their kitchens pouring tea (if I ever got time to call on them!), and being an astounding help with childcare or dog care, to help me through what is one of the most difficult times ever for me and my boy. My heart swells in a blossom-filled ocean of love to you - Beltane blessings! xxx<br />
<br />
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Hagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-60673505907585837962015-01-02T01:22:00.002+00:002015-01-02T01:22:58.308+00:00A New Year's Day Exposure I guess I might wake up in the morning and decide this post is self-indulgent navel-gazing which should have been kept for a private journal, but all the same it's been fairly therapeutic to work through. And I would like to encourage the people who are struggling with life's challenges that they don't need to hide behind the 'Happy New Year' or 'Happy Whatever It Is' obligations in silence, because actually not everyone's happy all the time and it's good to share some of the madness and get it out so that it's less likely to kill you.<br />
<br />
I had a cosy New Year's Eve tucked up on the sofa with a blanket and my dog at my parent's house. Mugs of tea followed by a little of the whiskey from the bottle my brother gave me many years ago which I only ever drink on New Year's Eve so that it can last forever. My final Christmas chocolates, a lit candle, and a creepy film with my mum and dad. Wonderfully comforting.<br />
<br />
Checked Twitter for updates on what my son was doing - nothing directly from him but the group that he is with in Scotland were reassuring in their tweets about a 'rip-roaring ceilidh' and a 'magnificent feast'.<br />
<br />
Then today.<br />
<br />
New Year's Day and on the way home, alone with my dog, we went for a walk. And I suddenly saw a part of myself in the landscape I faced. <br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfr13OaTm58mX-PM5X31092jDEl4jdlEAGaCI8yeK17T9pTCPQ4yXIzxR8SbPBxBpNqa2YLr0CFtM_LkkSTq38ighMxz5oySgCb8GVh7ZGw5BZOYgUdLsPXwN8ne54GgoHg4HatS26ng4/s1600/langstone+harbour+bleak.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfr13OaTm58mX-PM5X31092jDEl4jdlEAGaCI8yeK17T9pTCPQ4yXIzxR8SbPBxBpNqa2YLr0CFtM_LkkSTq38ighMxz5oySgCb8GVh7ZGw5BZOYgUdLsPXwN8ne54GgoHg4HatS26ng4/s1600/langstone+harbour+bleak.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
The kind of empty, bleak and abandoned part.<br />
<br />
A long way away from the motivated, grateful and nourished part.<br />
<br />
And when I got home it rushed in, like a hungry sea. The grief I've been holding down so that I can be strong for my son, for my dog, for my parents, for myself. <br />
<br />
The grief for the relationship I haven't been able to save - 19 years of memories and shattered expectations of how it was going to be, of how it should be able to be healed. And I can't heal it. <br />
<br />
The grief for the secure and happy family I've failed to provide for my son. <br />
<br />
Grief for the brother or sister he never had.<br />
<br />
Grief for all his pain that I cannot protect him from.<br />
<br />
Grief for the partnership that I have lost.<br />
<br />
And so I fell right down a deep pit of bleak, empty, abandoned self-hating despair, coloured with all the other self-hating griefs of the years. Of not being a good enough sister to save my brother. Of not being a good enough friend. Of not being a good enough dog guardian. Of not being a good enough daughter. Of not being a good enough lover. Of not being a good enough mother. Hate, hate, hate. The pit of generally feeling pretty crap about everything. Hideous negativity which I'm actually not very used to dealing with, as I'm usually too busy, and I generally do pretty damn well at being 'fine'. The sort of sadness which feels like it's sucking all the air out.<br />
<br />
Not a nice place.<br />
<br />
Then something happened and I remembered I'm a witch. Really not a very good enough witch of course, but even so, just the word is alchemy. It means I can choose to work with the powers of nature and life to create change, to transform, to survive the fire. <br />
<br />
And I began to stoke the fires within. To remember what ignites me, what feeds my passion. <br />
<br />
To remember that despite all my hated perceived failings, I am earth that supports, earth that has been walked on by the sacred feet of all I have loved, their footprints always in my heart. Earth that is powerfully strong and regenerates, however much it has been harmed. That I am fertile soil which any day now I can plant with the seeds which I wish to germinate within myself, and that Spring is coming soon to aid my growth. <br />
<br />
To remember that I have tides always flowing within me, lifeblood in rivers of hope with every heartbeat. Oceans of emotions that means I feel and contain despair and joy and all the wild horses inbetween. I am waters which enable me to flow in and out of creativity, in and out of the story I am imagining, giving myself permission to be the ebbing as much as the flowing. I remember something my son said when he was four about having an ocean of joy inside him. I can find that ocean, and do my best to help him find it again.<br />
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To remember that I am air. My life is breath moving through my lungs that I guess has been circulating around this planet for billions of years. Air that is shared and connecting me with everyone. We are all this breeze, this change in the weather. I am winds which are blowing in from the East, purifying, bringing fresh beginnings and a clearer dawn light. <br />
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I breathe in. I breathe out. And at last there is some respite from this storm and I am grateful, I am nourished, I am motivated... enough.<br />
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Enough to meet my boy from the train tomorrow, to be the solid earth to support him always.<br />
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Enough to begin rebuilding my path, weeds and cracks and stones and all, my own way.<br />
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Enough to remember how it's all held together with love, all of it. <br />
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So I ended the day with kindness, with a climb out of that awful pit, and a doodle of some of the places I find comfort. Just to remind me.<br />
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I checked Twitter one last time before bed, for any news of my boy:<br />
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"Everyone is relaxing in the library and the fire is roaring". <br />
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New Year Blessings to all. xxxHagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-44332680700117633292014-09-19T17:32:00.001+01:002014-09-19T21:11:12.933+01:00Not Back To School!My son's never been to school so this is his 9th year of not going back to school in September (supposing he would have started when he was 4).<br />
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I can't believe how quickly those years have gone by, and I still feel I'm transitioning from home educating a little kid to home educating a teen, with all the losses and gains which that encompasses. <br />
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I've been thinking about the whole non-school life we've led and yesterday, I came across some notes I scribbled down 9 yrs ago, when he would have been starting his first day of school in 2005. On that day, I'd organised a 'Not the first day of school' event at my house for all the other little kids we knew who were also not beginning school. We made a big brick wall in card in our living room and all the kids could graffiti on it and express how they were not just another brick...and it was generally a big day of play. I have very fond memories of that day and others like it which we've had over the years.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeYbjhRg8z5hdfqon0iAvCNluOZFyfkq8xqjcGmd48YZCilJGV_R6NLLR9NYMOss6uzF96IqvDnjZGwvl3GmWnu4pe2Zxu06dcaA1DtCp55QI0eWQHr6A2JB1FgoLBMwpdR7_U1Ja4leg/s1600/IMGP0055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeYbjhRg8z5hdfqon0iAvCNluOZFyfkq8xqjcGmd48YZCilJGV_R6NLLR9NYMOss6uzF96IqvDnjZGwvl3GmWnu4pe2Zxu06dcaA1DtCp55QI0eWQHr6A2JB1FgoLBMwpdR7_U1Ja4leg/s1600/IMGP0055.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2005</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2005</td></tr>
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Here are the notes I wrote down on that day:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
J laid in till 9am, I had a cup of tea, sat on his bed while he told me about his dream - playing with a load of kids at The Mother camp. We took lots of time - unhurried - precious space to talk about dreams and wake up gently...</blockquote>
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Made juice. Made a flying fish for our 'school'. Made a brick wall poster. People arrived at 11am. Kids breastfed, played with toys, drew on wall, ate beans on toast, ran in the park, ate muffins and vanilla soya dessert, talked and laughed... </blockquote>
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Free play, free time celebrated, no timetable, no prescribed learning, no uniform... </blockquote>
Remembering that day makes me smile and feel grateful for the choice we made to home educate and that we live in a country where we have a legal right to home educate (even though there are sporadic attempts to undermine or attack that right, which we need to be ever-vigilant about).<br />
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But remembering that day also makes me a little sad. Remembering how it was all ahead of us - a childhood, the ways we would be parents - all the idealism, possibilities, intentions... <br />
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It's quite easy to look back and see how we compromised sometimes, or let some unhelpful parental patterns slip in, or let outside pressures and judgements influence us so that we sometimes lost touch with those deep ideals. Or just let days slip past too fast without our full awareness within them.<br />
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Meaning sometimes we've shouted or criticised or not taken seriously or imposed.<br />
<br />
Meaning sometimes we've had days of autonomy, sometimes we've had days which featured having to do maths... <br />
<br />
Meaning our son has learnt that we're just another human variety of imperfect and that he'll undoubtedly be able to agree with the rest of the population that 'parents screw you up' but hopefully in his case, not too badly.<br />
<br />
Sometimes I want to go back and start again and be better. Other times I'm more compassionate to ourselves and think actually we've cobbled through alright, under sometimes very difficult personal circumstances. It's easy to forget all the stuff you've done right, especially as having a hugely different attitude towards the education and treatment of children in this society than most of the population can quite often feel like swimming against the tide. Less so now, since so many more people are choosing to home educate and respond more assertively to their children's unhappiness in school (if it arises). <br />
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We've never had timetables (though we've made plans). Interestingly this September, I actually felt like I needed to make a weekly timetable! Purely for my benefit really, and one that is open to being changed as the day or the week progresses. And parts of it will be wildly different each week due to different events popping up and monthly groups etc. But I felt like I needed that skeleton of a structure to hang the passing of time on to, and make me feel more organised. And almost at the end of week one it's working! I do actually feel like I know a bit more where our time goes and what it's made of.<br />
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Here's a peek at our timetable this week (click to enlarge):<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh6cSk077F9ExpPHWJ-PDIYhBVA7ZRe_lZNz8dxA83a8jZ5jQuX_h4FaLK08eij2nZJ85RnMVSZQ24Iaetqqb-GkLbMgM5rBzrOpO70cdAORdCehReIfDKxIug_n6Inbu6OLb1alvlb1s/s1600/timetable.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh6cSk077F9ExpPHWJ-PDIYhBVA7ZRe_lZNz8dxA83a8jZ5jQuX_h4FaLK08eij2nZJ85RnMVSZQ24Iaetqqb-GkLbMgM5rBzrOpO70cdAORdCehReIfDKxIug_n6Inbu6OLb1alvlb1s/s1600/timetable.png" height="324" width="640" /></a></div>
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It's not really accurate for what we actually did because most of the 'animation' and 'comic' gave way to more game-making this week, with bits of guitar thrown in. And it fails to mention Minecraft and Skype and me going upstairs to make him stretch occasionally, or persuade him to come out on his skateboard round the park with me and the dog. Talking of the dog, it also makes it look like she had only one walk in the whole week! The 'Kitchen Chemistry' is an online course we signed on to months ago and have only just got around to doing. There wasn't much enthusiasm until the lesson turned out to be apparently learning different ways to set fire to your house using familiar household objects like toasters and tea-bags. Fortunately such a crisis was averted but we've definitely been reminded that hot air rises!<br />
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A timetable, though fulfilling some strange structural need I have at the moment, reminds me how much 'education' falls outside of any such timetable. It doesn't include the sudden phone interview for a local newspaper. Or unexpected late-night book reading. Or the maths involved in working out how much money you still need before you can buy the Occulus Rift. Or the impromptu local history lesson while eating our picnic in the harbour. Or the conversation about substance abuse and alcoholism because it's affecting our experience of walking through the park. Or... <br />
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No timetable can contain even a fraction of our learning, but sometimes it can just help provide a bit of focus if we need it sometimes.<br />
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So it's exciting! We move onwards into another autumn, another year completely outside the system of school rules and uniforms, delving deeper into what interests and motivates and inspires his passion, however far those things are from my own interests, passions and expectations. A year of further loosening my hold on such expectations, deepening my acceptance that everything changes, and of celebrating and supporting the educational paths of our son, wherever he leads us.<br />
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<br />Hagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-37388161366316238232014-03-12T21:50:00.002+00:002014-03-12T21:53:12.049+00:00Tree LinesInstalled the Hipstamatic app on my phone and played around for an hour or so... Was fascinated by the intricate lace and lines of the leafless trees against the sky. <br />
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The waxing moon was risen high by mid afternoon but has been visible most of the day. Willow trees always look so graceful, a great body dancing.<br />
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I like the contrast of the black trees and white sky but as the sky was changing with the beautiful colours of sunset, I also shot this one in colour too.<br />
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As the sun sank the light began fading fast but the hedge of small blossom trees were filled with bright white petals.</div>
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This tree stands totally proud of itself, beautiful, self-contained, commanding the entire street from where I was looking!</div>
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Hagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-40632077821678343582014-02-19T23:40:00.000+00:002014-02-19T23:40:43.628+00:00For Paul xxx<!-- this script got from www.htmlfreecodes.com, Krishna Eydat-->
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A walk along the beach, company of gulls and crows,<br />
waves crashing after winds, strong ebbs and flows.<br />
Sea sucking pebbles fast away from my hand<br />
as I collect bright stones to write your name on the sand.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkHapfN62YL1nhiOqHWM81Q209H3kpcE9p9IWT8S1jElenpfJlspBgJJoO2_on1DVCvD4FGl-pVtO1wcmqJlXHwCR8QFZge2gkQS-O4DFV6noz5wE1bVTVJ15wAZL9NuZIVFvISnhGgyE/s1600/birds+closeup.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkHapfN62YL1nhiOqHWM81Q209H3kpcE9p9IWT8S1jElenpfJlspBgJJoO2_on1DVCvD4FGl-pVtO1wcmqJlXHwCR8QFZge2gkQS-O4DFV6noz5wE1bVTVJ15wAZL9NuZIVFvISnhGgyE/s1600/birds+closeup.JPG" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiM_QWUOTvO04sVkaPYNPzEp0qAjDl2rM6OmMVTJ4b5m1UsIOE0PgXcZtNPgFoJZwMebxc3Q1bWhaVDeQBn9AGaEloWarkDdBcmamBnZ-aK1X73uKjTU7UeuUUH6AuvTJMZr82SClY8Dk/s1600/birds+flying.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiM_QWUOTvO04sVkaPYNPzEp0qAjDl2rM6OmMVTJ4b5m1UsIOE0PgXcZtNPgFoJZwMebxc3Q1bWhaVDeQBn9AGaEloWarkDdBcmamBnZ-aK1X73uKjTU7UeuUUH6AuvTJMZr82SClY8Dk/s1600/birds+flying.jpg" height="640" width="440" /></a></div>
<br />
People told me you liked walking the shoreline here,<br />
I walk for an hour, imagining you, turn back at the pier.<br />
Wishing we could meet now and wipe the years clean,<br />
make the horror of you leaving, to never have been.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAA06Aa1njVijtHrArCeBBLTqlGDTZbvCk6oTKPJ8OF76SEdICj261ERzLpo3zIl6w9vq-P-B1PKT29jyV2N2Idw6G3-Abnmsh64gbqBXES-xV4l9aPvKHnSwtsTFdIr_XSDe7CAiWQiQ/s1600/Pippa+and+sea+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAA06Aa1njVijtHrArCeBBLTqlGDTZbvCk6oTKPJ8OF76SEdICj261ERzLpo3zIl6w9vq-P-B1PKT29jyV2N2Idw6G3-Abnmsh64gbqBXES-xV4l9aPvKHnSwtsTFdIr_XSDe7CAiWQiQ/s1600/Pippa+and+sea+-+Copy.JPG" height="636" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDr3EC7UzX7yD1xhPqqctT6GR-MEEAd1p_to40hYFt6xfSdzDh-rXrqidITEynuNatBsnZ5U_uDX1Je9sVsLuG54a6JuDwf_AXZywYEOmSJ5FbGi33HiGkWyxc7EwClNJg8_fFEU_is2A/s1600/stones%252C+shells.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDr3EC7UzX7yD1xhPqqctT6GR-MEEAd1p_to40hYFt6xfSdzDh-rXrqidITEynuNatBsnZ5U_uDX1Je9sVsLuG54a6JuDwf_AXZywYEOmSJ5FbGi33HiGkWyxc7EwClNJg8_fFEU_is2A/s1600/stones%252C+shells.JPG" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ2Xff7ggRCKtk608fThyCZGjW2t31pTjlW39inr5VXeATb8_V7-oSMPWNO8hoysopcwGOUYg3XCZUEt3FS-NG_32e_3Gq1h7sWuTOdsc80UfslP3hAu4vTEJAyJWaO8a9qXRGVkMwPTY/s1600/beach+huts.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ2Xff7ggRCKtk608fThyCZGjW2t31pTjlW39inr5VXeATb8_V7-oSMPWNO8hoysopcwGOUYg3XCZUEt3FS-NG_32e_3Gq1h7sWuTOdsc80UfslP3hAu4vTEJAyJWaO8a9qXRGVkMwPTY/s1600/beach+huts.JPG" height="358" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />
A painted row of beach huts, such a pretty postcard view,<br />
yet they look out on the tide that carried in the mystery of you.<br />
This sacred beach is full of beauty, love fills every shell, <br />
each stone a heart which beats remembrance of you, be well. <br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAtcaW_09w71cta48cWF2DVi8RcsVNlWpwNoB3KaJeiLckS3M9XFR9dVCwUqM1aUcPuZWxeYo7HCtveQDxLKMAXW1e-qpZUCbQxgB_XdhOkxCy81pj2NsFuX1lXu2pwd8YyrIW7_sz58c/s1600/heart+stone.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAtcaW_09w71cta48cWF2DVi8RcsVNlWpwNoB3KaJeiLckS3M9XFR9dVCwUqM1aUcPuZWxeYo7HCtveQDxLKMAXW1e-qpZUCbQxgB_XdhOkxCy81pj2NsFuX1lXu2pwd8YyrIW7_sz58c/s1600/heart+stone.JPG" height="318" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghIjNXWe0oilsF36fJZcMfOJ3yPVkqFW2Ym2Np9arlasaj2sPeuEwW0GPR_QAnFR7j5GwR_bm9iSAC_2y5XXGUVq07umJeUmrmkkQ6UacICHtI0LjOFHuP3xASfDVSR3AI0_dGozfSR_4/s1600/Paul+sea.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghIjNXWe0oilsF36fJZcMfOJ3yPVkqFW2Ym2Np9arlasaj2sPeuEwW0GPR_QAnFR7j5GwR_bm9iSAC_2y5XXGUVq07umJeUmrmkkQ6UacICHtI0LjOFHuP3xASfDVSR3AI0_dGozfSR_4/s1600/Paul+sea.JPG" height="640" width="358" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I don't know how it's been five years! Your little seven year old nephew is now nearly a teenager. He can play your guitar, he can write html, hack into my accounts and I reckon he could almost better you in the computer geek stakes! In case you don't know, his favourite song at the moment is 'The World Spins Madly On' and he's been playing guitar and singing it all day. It's been spinning in my head as I've been thinking of you, so here it is in our favourite music video made of it - an awesome drawn animation of over 20,000 frames. It's very sad so it's fitting for tonight.<br />
<br />
<div align="center">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/OBk3ynRbtsw" width="560"></iframe>
</div>
<br />
I think of you and where you've gone and the world spins madly on.<br />
<br />
You left way too soon and we will never stop missing you. <br />
<br />
<div id="dot0" style="height: 11px; position: absolute; visibility: hidden; width: 11px;">
<img src="http://www.javascriptfreecode.com/images/heart.gif" height="11" width="11" />
</div>
<div id="dot1" style="height: 11px; position: absolute; width: 11px;">
<img src="http://www.javascriptfreecode.com/images/heart.gif" height="11" width="11" />
</div>
<div id="dot2" style="height: 11px; position: absolute; width: 11px;">
<img src="http://www.javascriptfreecode.com/images/heart.gif" height="11" width="11" />
</div>
<div id="dot3" style="height: 11px; position: absolute; width: 11px;">
<img src="http://www.javascriptfreecode.com/images/heart.gif" height="11" width="11" />
</div>
<div id="dot4" style="height: 11px; position: absolute; width: 11px;">
<img src="http://www.javascriptfreecode.com/images/heart.gif" height="11" width="11" />
</div>
<div id="dot5" style="height: 11px; position: absolute; width: 11px;">
<img src="http://www.javascriptfreecode.com/images/heart.gif" height="11" width="11" />
</div>
<div id="dot6" style="height: 11px; position: absolute; width: 11px;">
<img src="http://www.javascriptfreecode.com/images/heart.gif" height="11" width="11" />
</div>
<script language="JavaScript">
<!-- hide code
var nDots = 7;
var Xpos = 0;
var Ypos = 0;
// fixed time step, no relation to real time
var DELTAT = .01;
// size of one spring in pixels
var SEGLEN = 10;
// spring constant, stiffness of springs
var SPRINGK = 10;
// all the physics is bogus, just picked stuff to
// make it look okay
var MASS = 1;
// Positive XGRAVITY pulls right, negative pulls left
// Positive YGRAVITY pulls down, negative up
var XGRAVITY = 0;
var YGRAVITY = 50;
// RESISTANCE determines a slowing force proportional to velocity
var RESISTANCE = 10;
// stopping criterea to prevent endless jittering
// doesn't work when sitting on bottom since floor
// doesn't push back so acceleration always as big
// as gravity
var STOPVEL = 0.1;
var STOPACC = 0.1;
var DOTSIZE = 11;
// BOUNCE is percent of velocity retained when
// bouncing off a wall
var BOUNCE = 0.75;
var isNetscape = navigator.appName=="Netscape";
// always on for now, could be played with to
// let dots fall to botton, get thrown, etc.
var followmouse = true;
var dots = new Array();
init();
function init()
{
var i = 0;
for (i = 0; i < nDots; i++) {
dots[i] = new dot(i);
}
if (!isNetscape) {
// I only know how to read the locations of the
// <LI> items in IE
//skip this for now
// setInitPositions(dots)
}
// set their positions
for (i = 0; i < nDots; i++) {
dots[i].obj.left = dots[i].X;
dots[i].obj.top = dots[i].Y;
}
if (isNetscape) {
// start right away since they are positioned
// at 0, 0
startanimate();
} else {
// let dots sit there for a few seconds
// since they're hiding on the real bullets
setTimeout("startanimate()", 1000);
}
}
function dot(i)
{
this.X = Xpos;
this.Y = Ypos;
this.dx = 0;
this.dy = 0;
if (isNetscape) {
this.obj = eval("document.dot" + i);
} else {
this.obj = eval("dot" + i + ".style");
}
}
function startanimate() {
setInterval("animate()", 20);
}
// This is to line up the bullets with actual LI tags on the page
// Had to add -DOTSIZE to X and 2*DOTSIZE to Y for IE 5, not sure why
// Still doesn't work great
function setInitPositions(dots)
{
// initialize dot positions to be on top
// of the bullets in the <ul>
var startloc = document.all.tags("LI");
var i = 0;
for (i = 0; i < startloc.length && i < (nDots - 1); i++) {
dots[i+1].X = startloc[i].offsetLeft
startloc[i].offsetParent.offsetLeft - DOTSIZE;
dots[i+1].Y = startloc[i].offsetTop +
startloc[i].offsetParent.offsetTop + 2*DOTSIZE;
}
// put 0th dot above 1st (it is hidden)
dots[0].X = dots[1].X;
dots[0].Y = dots[1].Y - SEGLEN;
}
// just save mouse position for animate() to use
function MoveHandler(e)
{
Xpos = e.pageX;
Ypos = e.pageY;
return true;
}
// just save mouse position for animate() to use
function MoveHandlerIE() {
Xpos = window.event.x + document.body.scrollLeft;
Ypos = window.event.y + document.body.scrollTop;
}
if (isNetscape) {
document.captureEvents(Event.MOUSEMOVE);
document.onMouseMove = MoveHandler;
} else {
document.onmousemove = MoveHandlerIE;
}
function vec(X, Y)
{
this.X = X;
this.Y = Y;
}
// adds force in X and Y to spring for dot[i] on dot[j]
function springForce(i, j, spring)
{
var dx = (dots[i].X - dots[j].X);
var dy = (dots[i].Y - dots[j].Y);
var len = Math.sqrt(dx*dx + dy*dy);
if (len > SEGLEN) {
var springF = SPRINGK * (len - SEGLEN);
spring.X += (dx / len) * springF;
spring.Y += (dy / len) * springF;
}
}
function animate() {
// dots[0] follows the mouse,
// though no dot is drawn there
var start = 0;
if (followmouse) {
dots[0].X = Xpos;
dots[0].Y = Ypos;
start = 1;
}
for (i = start ; i < nDots; i++ ) {
var spring = new vec(0, 0);
if (i > 0) {
springForce(i-1, i, spring);
}
if (i < (nDots - 1)) {
springForce(i+1, i, spring);
}
// air resisitance/friction
var resist = new vec(-dots[i].dx * RESISTANCE,
-dots[i].dy * RESISTANCE);
// compute new accel, including gravity
var accel = new vec((spring.X + resist.X)/MASS + XGRAVITY,
(spring.Y + resist.Y)/ MASS + YGRAVITY);
// compute new velocity
dots[i].dx += (DELTAT * accel.X);
dots[i].dy += (DELTAT * accel.Y);
// stop dead so it doesn't jitter when nearly still
if (Math.abs(dots[i].dx) < STOPVEL &&
Math.abs(dots[i].dy) < STOPVEL &&
Math.abs(accel.X) < STOPACC &&
Math.abs(accel.Y) < STOPACC) {
dots[i].dx = 0;
dots[i].dy = 0;
}
// move to new position
dots[i].X += dots[i].dx;
dots[i].Y += dots[i].dy;
// get size of window
var height, width;
if (isNetscape) {
height = window.innerHeight + window.pageYOffset;
width = window.innerWidth + window.pageXOffset;
} else {
height = document.body.clientHeight + document.body.scrollTop;
width = document.body.clientWidth + document.body.scrollLeft;
}
// bounce off 3 walls (leave ceiling open)
if (dots[i].Y >= height - DOTSIZE - 1) {
if (dots[i].dy > 0) {
dots[i].dy = BOUNCE * -dots[i].dy;
}
dots[i].Y = height - DOTSIZE - 1;
}
if (dots[i].X >= width - DOTSIZE) {
if (dots[i].dx > 0) {
dots[i].dx = BOUNCE * -dots[i].dx;
}
dots[i].X = width - DOTSIZE - 1;
}
if (dots[i].X < 0) {
if (dots[i].dx < 0) {
dots[i].dx = BOUNCE * -dots[i].dx;
}
dots[i].X = 0;
}
// move img to new position
dots[i].obj.left = dots[i].X;
dots[i].obj.top = dots[i].Y;
}
}
// end code hiding -->
</script><br />Hagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-6495966220253865852013-08-30T18:19:00.000+01:002013-08-30T18:37:30.432+01:00In conversation with Joan Court and a few people with paws...This is being published at a particularly terrible time for this country. A time when the killing of badgers has begun which, if allowed to continue, will eventually see thousands upon thousands of these beautiful creatures shot and over 70% of the entire population wiped out. <br />
<br />
At the same time as plans for fracking across 60% of the country are being proposed which will not only devastate wildlife and the very nature of our landscape but have the capability to contaminate the water we drink, the air we breathe and pose such largescale health risks to the population of this country (human and non-human alike) that I find it actually quite unimaginable.<br />
<br />
And of course the list goes on...<br />
<br />
Which makes it a very good time to think about the people who are organising and taking action and not giving up in the attempt to change this world and move it from one of cruelty and greed to one of compassion and justice. One such person is my friend Joan Court, who has dedicated many decades to actively changing the world for the better and who is a constant inspiration to me.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwIBvesl5Em3Zg9nzt7kMiv6Uso5X7Ivf1_gmws73uly8eJF5iu7j1omSrYpaFjt8_5RAM-O0P1HQp8qdPOcLVla0-UfJsQP9kf-K6EFk7lfSX2Ykhb0wQrWrYmlnwgtRayGzWOLHcoFg/s1600/DSC04149.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwIBvesl5Em3Zg9nzt7kMiv6Uso5X7Ivf1_gmws73uly8eJF5iu7j1omSrYpaFjt8_5RAM-O0P1HQp8qdPOcLVla0-UfJsQP9kf-K6EFk7lfSX2Ykhb0wQrWrYmlnwgtRayGzWOLHcoFg/s640/DSC04149.JPG" width="356" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joan speaking at a recent demo in Cambridge against the cruel experiments on genetically modified mice.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Every time I go and stay with Joan in Cambridge (which isn't nearly often enough) I love to hear the stories she can tell me from her truly amazing life of the last 94 years, as well as the current affairs that we might discuss. <br />
<br />
Back in 1989, when I'd just moved to Cambridge as a student (at the now named Anglia Ruskin Uni) I rang the contact number I'd found for Cambridge Animal Rights and two days later I was meeting up with Joan, Hilda, and others who I was to become close friends with, to go and inspect a pig farm, which began a busy time of animal rights campaigning and a new social life! <br />
<br />
Having previously published two biographical books, Joan has recently published a third book which is a collection of pesonal interviews with over 20 animal rights activists. These provide a rare insight into the views and motivations of a diverse range of people who despite some differences in outlook share a common vision - that of animal liberation and an end to cruelty and abuse of those we share this world with. Acting in the interests of this vision has changed the course of lives and has not always been easy, sometimes leading to conflicts in personal lives or imprisonment. Through this book, Joan has provided the opportunity to get a glimpse of some of the real people behind the often dehumanising portrayals by the mainstream media of 'animal rights activists' or 'terrorists' as they have occasionally been depicted.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv71tZeZ6CIXB7uI4MpzwQFmGXaC_pfTepfNXw2WOvDilze05PRjeaemZgnY6XJi_YeZkjEbADwEq1rvv_4eoUh5y2i_GNUH9mjfbTu0X9nFbXZIYswWnnXGamK706AfP4PJKc6XWD_tc/s2048/Photo%25252030%252520Aug%2525202013%25252015%25253A19.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="703" id="blogsy-1377873391350.5789" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv71tZeZ6CIXB7uI4MpzwQFmGXaC_pfTepfNXw2WOvDilze05PRjeaemZgnY6XJi_YeZkjEbADwEq1rvv_4eoUh5y2i_GNUH9mjfbTu0X9nFbXZIYswWnnXGamK706AfP4PJKc6XWD_tc/s500/Photo%25252030%252520Aug%2525202013%25252015%25253A19.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
One of the recent times I stayed with Joan I asked if she would tell me about some of the times from her earlier life and I had the honour of spending a whole afternoon and morning listening to her fantastic memories and I took notes which I now share below (with her permission) as they deserve a wider audience.<br />
<br />
As with any conversation that takes place at Joan's home, it has to be paused regularly to say hello to a cat, to make space on a lap, or to be mesmerised temporarily by the intense gaze of a beautiful pair of feline eyes. So in the spirit of the environment in which this conversation took place, the text pauses every now and then for one of Joan's cat family to wander through and bathe in a little attention.<br />
<br />
Thanks again Joan, and I look forward to coming back to see you again soon. And get some more stories ready because I never tire of listening to them! Much love always xxx<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5hfrfBOiSZ8_O8bwVXxkq-hFecmBJ5cIcg9AAQaaG-0zqPGL0zgytWvAR1-qRQvZfVcQtmFhJZty-_tGHspq9QTLqc3R4JfKiBQPB5qqrF525zlBGvrzLdHpXzsVJaoLb9caMabBehJM/s2048/Photo%25252030%252520Aug%2525202013%25252015%25253A33.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="351" id="blogsy-1377873391364.7517" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5hfrfBOiSZ8_O8bwVXxkq-hFecmBJ5cIcg9AAQaaG-0zqPGL0zgytWvAR1-qRQvZfVcQtmFhJZty-_tGHspq9QTLqc3R4JfKiBQPB5qqrF525zlBGvrzLdHpXzsVJaoLb9caMabBehJM/s500/Photo%25252030%252520Aug%2525202013%25252015%25253A33.jpg" width="500" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">To read more of Joan's life and work, take a look at her two autobiographical books, along with her latest book, all of which are available from Amazon.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><em>Joan Court:</em></strong></span> <br />
<br />
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">From childhood I've felt empathy with animals and people which has led to a life spent campaigning for people and animals. I feel close identification with people too. I'm a dreamer, a romantic but have tried to actually do something about it. </span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was a dream of my brother<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Peter and myself to go to India. I was intensely influenced by books, in particular Kipling, and also the history and social injustice of people living in this country, people living in poverty. I began reading about Ghandi. I became vegetarian and interested in Indian Independence and the work of saving the lives of mothers and babies in India.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This led to four years midwifery and nursing training. During the war I was a District midwife, delivering babies at home in London. I never saw a depressed mother during home deliveries and all were breastfed. We had to conduct the service during air-raids and the house allocated to us was bombed. I slept understairs with a cat, Emily, and the telephone beside me. I'd go out on my bicycle with the bag strapped on the back. Occasionally I would find myself walking beside the bicycle wondering what had happened after a bomb had dropped nearby. If needed,an ambulance would come out.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In spite of the bombs, it was quite a peaceful <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>occupation, with mothers sitting up in bed, happy, while I bathed the baby or burnt the placenta on the fire. I'm quite critical of modern midwifery care - the medicalisation of childbirth. Midwives<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>are not trained for breach or anything other than a 'normal' birth, when a midwife could be adequately trained for dealing with this at a home.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Are you looking at me Katy the Shaman, do I need some healing?</td></tr>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was intent on going to India and got involved with the Quaker Unit operating in Calcutta and read research papers with recommendations on what could be done to reduce the maternal death rate. I had to get permission from the Viceroy then started a midwifery service in downtown Calcutta, working with Hindu nurses close to the Muslim area.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's not difficult to reduce the death rate by improving antenatal care. The main deathrate was from tetanus often caused by the practice of applying<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>cow dung to heal the naval. Most babies were delivered by untrained women. I helped to train local midwives and student midwives at the hospital.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I met Ghandi - everyone met Ghandi at that time. I worked with him briefly where he was in a village doing a hunger strike. I was asked to give him support. In my view, he's a Saint. He believed the future of India lay in the education of women. He was strictly vegetarian but like most Hindu's he believed in the importance of milk and wished there was a substitute for it, before the days of soya milk, so he travelled around with his goat.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He doesn't have paws... how did he get in?!</td></tr>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The thing about my life, is I'm an intense romantic, but in my case all my dreams did come true. I did go to India, meet Ghandi, listen to EM Fortser...<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But work in Calcutta was interrupted by riots against the British. After being mobbed once or twice I took to wearing sari's. I never came to any harm. The main danger was from the Ghurkas who seemed to shoot anybody in sight. About 7000 people were killed in a day or two around my area. They were brought in by the British during the Hindu-Muslim riots.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was one of the few people with a permit to go out into the street. I would go out to both the Hindu and the Muslim areas to attend to mothers. I was very single-minded about reaching any patients in labour. I tried to take any injured people to hospital on a handcart. I wasn't able to take students out during riots.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We lived in a street which had five Hindu temples in one little area and worshippers would bring gifts of fruit etc, which had previously been offered to the gods and goddesses and consequently got dysentery. The flooded streets during the monsoon had rats floating everywhere and leaping around on rubbish dumps. As a consequence people would get Weil's disease and jaundice. Fortunately I had a good immune system having been brought up in such a filthy home! I think it's impossible to not get ill in Calcutta. Everyone working there had intestinal parasites. The diet was strictly vegan... rice and dahl or vegetable curry.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I still feel intense nostalgia for India and am sorry I didn't get back.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hello Ming Ming, don't you be nibbling Joan's arm anymore please!</td></tr>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had a period of sick leave up in Kalimpong and Darjeeling, North India, with a view of the mountains and travelled up on a beautiful little steam train. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I left India in October 1947 and saw the birth of an independent India and the Indian national flag flying in all the villages. Also the reconciliation of Hindus and Muslims, which didn't last of course. But when peace was restored in Calcutta, Hindus and Muslims were bathing each other in rose water and using their cutlasses to cut off the tops of coconuts instead of the heads of their enemies.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My time in Calcutta was the most intense time of my life. When in Calcutta I read about a horseback nursing service in Appalacia, America. It sounded a highly romantic job and you know what I'm like, so I returned to England and did my Public Health Visiting education. They were a bit reluctant to take me as I could neither drive nor ride a horse. But their attitude was "you sound the right sort" so I got the job!<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I looked after 100 families, so called Hillbillies. It was a wonderful life and I fell in love with my horse Dock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I look back on the days in Kentucky with a tremendous nostalgia. It was solitary, sometimes quite dangerous and pioneering. We gave total care to the families and their animals as far as we could, and if we had an emergency all the men would appear, make a stretcher and carry the mother to where they could hitch a ride on a coal-truck to the local hospital.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8EYbYWI4ViaZiGCxynIOAamIpVIwEaMRBZ0ifDm-QZ2soHCVD9VB4qME27HMtU2Z3nbYfyMNXWjOFg9sNqvFEDLjlVI90hPLCItXnKR1-oxgNU-qwSrN3j0H_R8h7T7w-nL7PGfXrtx0/s1600/DSC04129.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8EYbYWI4ViaZiGCxynIOAamIpVIwEaMRBZ0ifDm-QZ2soHCVD9VB4qME27HMtU2Z3nbYfyMNXWjOFg9sNqvFEDLjlVI90hPLCItXnKR1-oxgNU-qwSrN3j0H_R8h7T7w-nL7PGfXrtx0/s640/DSC04129.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ohhh Lily, you are <strong>too</strong> beautiful, I know!</td></tr>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm really not very practical and I'm amazed to think I was once able to change a tyre and ride my horse up the creeks. I had to ride very slowly as I was carrying very expensive equipment in the saddle bags. People lived in extremely primitive homes with a central fire and no electricity. Babies were delivered by torchlight. The walls were decorated with old newspapers and magazines and slogans "Love Your Mother".<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some families made moonshine, illicit alcohol, which we were never allowed to discuss. Usually the fathers worked in open-cast mining, there were frequent accidents. All the children were infested with parasites and the wells were often contaminated from the latrines. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was a wonderful service and I was happy that we were able to give first class midwifery and nursing care. It had many elements of danger and adventure which are in my blood stream.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I came to the end of my contract I was offered several jobs, one with the WHO in Pakistan. An intense love affair with a Russian Jew which had begun in India and continued through my time in America, broke up and it was time to leave America. I accepted the WHO job in Pakistan as a midwife consultant advisor and subsequently worked in Turkey and Western Australia.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I got into difficulties in Pakistan due to establishing family planning in Lahore. The Government were opposed to it. The Minister said "we need men for the army". They tried to get rid of me, to send me to Africa. I also made an enemy in Pakistan (a WHO nursing officer) who said 'the trouble with you Joan,is you're more interested in social work than you are in nursing', and a light dawned!</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ah sweet Charlie, I didn't forget you</td></tr>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Passionately keen on education, I began social work training in Bristol and London and qualified as a Psychiatric Social Worker. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I joined the NSPCC, pioneering the treatment of what was then called 'Battered Baby Syndrome'. I got into difficulties with the Director for questioning NSPCC policy at the time. They'd prosecuted a young mother for harming her baby when I felt the fault lay with medical and social services, for not helping identify and support her with her problems. I refused to resign so they fired me.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I hadn't been out of work since my teens so I found this disturbing. I was offered a number of jobs and then someone suggested the DHSS. I didn't understand any of the questions but they wanted me so they could implement recommendations made by my unit over the last five years. I spent the next five years as an incompetent civil servant, advising the minister on family planning, child abuse, battered women etc. I was also asked to review all recent deaths of non-accidental injury and became an expert witness. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I met an old school friend, Mary Tew (Mary Douglas), Professor of Social Anthropology, read her book and thought I should have been a social anthropologist. I applied to the University of Cambridge and got accepted to do a degree in Social Anthropology. I had a Masters in Social Work from America but didn't have a first degree and thought I should have. That's how I came to Cambridge.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I continued to work as a Guardian Ad Litum until I was 77. This involved working with a solicitor as an independent social worker listening to the wishes of children and trying to make recommendations which were for their benefit.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In my second year at Newhall, I picked up leaflets about vivisection and this started the last 30 years of my life in Cambridge as an animal rights campaigner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I look back on my life which doesn't seem that unusual to me. I regard myself as impetuous, and I have a strongly developed imaginative life. I should perhaps mention that I always wanted to be a writer, as books have always been my lifeline, as they were for my brother too. I suffer from severe writers block but I have managed to publish three books, thanks to the enormous encouragement I've received from various sources.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think I've got a very hard working Guardian Angel!</span></span><br />
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</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've been active in all the main animal rights campaigns and resent the limits on ability of old age now which prevent me going on marches etc. We learn more and more about the horrendous and sadistic treatment of other sentient beings and it haunts our lives. Human beings have destroyed the seas, the sky and the earth but there's a great danger in apathy. I think we should continue to do whatever we can for animal rights and animal welfare and I deeply respect and honour all our fellow campaigners. I am sustained by my friends and companion animals.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAxcEwdDoRbzeGEThiEVbKmxaIqt2kYtaxYyX1dvRAEN0vc9gSr_AuMrxhZL3DyqPVlTiTJduf5chxFYMJO61rvuR42TDtjBPKClLcamhwGDjvIZF4H9pYc7no6ay8pcbqwA-quidyHS0/s1600/DSC04137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAxcEwdDoRbzeGEThiEVbKmxaIqt2kYtaxYyX1dvRAEN0vc9gSr_AuMrxhZL3DyqPVlTiTJduf5chxFYMJO61rvuR42TDtjBPKClLcamhwGDjvIZF4H9pYc7no6ay8pcbqwA-quidyHS0/s320/DSC04137.JPG" width="255" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joan and Ming Ming, August 2013</td></tr>
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Hagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-28346671517871715462013-08-25T00:26:00.002+01:002013-08-30T18:25:42.404+01:00Some Thoughts After My Visit To BalcombeThis week my family visited the Balcombe Community Protection Camp to participate in the opposition to fracking. The work of the energy company Cuadrilla, which has been given the licence for exploratory drilling at Balcombe with the intention of fracking there in the future, had been halted for the previous few days by a big <a href="http://www.fomola.com/blog/links-in-blogsy/">Reclaim The Power</a> event which saw thousands of people taking part in the protest as well as attending workshops and talks. Here's a great short film recorded during this time at Balcombe (Produced and Directed by Felix Gonzales):<br />
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<a href="https://vimeo.com/72845389">https://vimeo.com/72845389</a></div>
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It's really easy to get to Balcombe. There's a train station a 5-10 minute walk down the road (with regular direct trains from London Victoria and Brighton). Just turn right out of the train station and follow the road. The camp runs along both sides of this road, so you can't miss it!</div>
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Now that drilling and work within the site has begun again, several trucks and containers with pipelines and chemicals/water are entering throughout the day. Currently at these times Balcombe protectors are slowing the process by walking in front of the vehicles, pushed along from behind by a police cordon. </div>
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If you walk too slowly, as apparently I was doing, you get threatened with arrest and this man gets excited about putting you in his movie...</div>
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Many people have been arrested during recent blockades at Balcombe. This slow walk in front of the vehicles seems to be the most you can currently do without being arrested. The fact that the police got so upset when I was walking a fraction slower than they wanted me to (they really <em>were</em> splitting hairs) was explained to me afterwards by the police liaison officer as being due to their 'understanding' that a specific speed of walking pace had been agreed upon with protesters and they would not permit it to get any slower! Some camp people appeared to be comfortable with this 'agreement' but I certainly heard other camp people saying they were not aware of such an agreement. So in my mind, the following questions arise: </div>
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* Is it true that agreements regarding conditions of protest have been made with the police?</div>
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* If so, who made these agreements? </div>
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* If such agreements are made how are these being communicated/discussed with new participants of the camp?</div>
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In my view, we are each free to take non-violent direct action against fracking at locations where the industry is at work, and we are free to not agree to the police determining the conditions of our resistance. Personally I don't feel comfortable making agreements with the police or to have others make those agreements on my behalf. Of course I fully understand that arrest may be the consequence of certain actions and that would be the responsibility of the individual and not the camp, though communication and solidarity within an organised community is good and important.</div>
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There are always different attitudes about what relationship and communication is best to adopt with the police. It's frustrating that any of our time and energy has to be given to this issue since it always seems to detract from the main cause at hand. However, when the police are being used more and more in this country for political purposes, are behaving increasingly aggressively, and more voices are publicly expressing concerns that we are moving towards a police state, then this is going to be a conversation which keeps arising. Yes of course I recognise that beneath their uniforms the police are made up of unique individuals some of whom refuse to surrender their humanity in favour of the worst they can get away with. Yes, I've experienced some of them being thoroughly decent human beings. However, that doesn't mean I'm going to start hugging them or getting into nice comfortable small talk or <em><strong>ever</strong></em> give them my trust. Because while today they may be sharing their sandwiches and putting flowers in their lapels, tomorrow they may be <a href="https://www.facebook.com/plugins/like_box.php?app_id=574869012552671&channel=http%3A%2F%2Fstatic.ak.facebook.com%2Fconnect%2Fxd_arbiter.php%3Fversion%3D26%23cb%3Df1bb2d1424%26domain%3Dwww.nodashforgas.org.uk%26origin%3Dhttp%253A%252F%252Fwww.nodashforgas.org.uk%252Ff652d91e4%26relation%3Dparent.parent&header=false&height=350&href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2Fpages%2FNo-Dash-for-Gas%2F301820216584422%3Ffref%3Dts&locale=en_US&sdk=joey&show_border=false&show_faces=true&stream=true&width=292"></a><a href="http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=6ICWDmx9DMc&desktop_uri=%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D6ICWDmx9DMc">kneeling on your friend's head</a>, pushing you over for no reason or practising maximum pain control on my pressure points. I can be polite (and usually am) but I also think it's important to remember who my friends are and they're not the ones wearing yellow jackets protecting life-destroying corporations.Talking of which, the sign on the side of this tanker desperately needs correcting...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">...which should obviously read as <strong><em>Total Environmental Destruction Technology</em></strong></span></td></tr>
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There have been dozens arrested throughout the campaign including the high profile arrest last weekend of Green MP Caroline Lucas with court hearings taking place over the next few weeks and months. I found that the way the presence of those previously arrested is maintained by visual reminders fixed up all around the camp was very effective.</div>
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Here's an interesting short film which discusses policing in relation to the fracking protests at Balcombe, including an interview with the Rev Peter Owen Jones and some music by the excellent Damh the Bard. </div>
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And while we're on the issue of police in regards to fracking protests here's a petition to sign:<a href="https://www.change.org/en-GB/petitions/uk-government-make-cuadrilla-pay-for-the-policing-of-the-balcombe-anti-fracking-protest?share_id=fSVQLErYBV&utm_campaign=twitter_link_action_box&utm_medium=twitter&utm_source=share_petition">https://www.change.org/en-GB/petitions/uk-government-make-cuadrilla-pay-for-the-policing-of-the-balcombe-anti-fracking-protest?share_id=fSVQLErYBV&utm_campaign=twitter_link_action_box&utm_medium=twitter&utm_source=share_petition</a> </div>
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Alongside the road are many hand painted banners and home printed placards illustrating why people are here. More are being made all the time and I love the diversity and individual expression being demonstrated here. Paints are always welcome for the people of all ages who want to creatively explain why they are here or what they feel.<br />
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My very favourite artist at the camp was someone who was hugely productive, and I was honoured to help him carry one of his newly painted placards up to the main gate. Actually, my brief meeting with him and hearing him talk with such intelligence about the messages he was producing was one of the most inspiring experiences of my visit. Here he is with his Grassland v Gasland placard:<br />
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Another lovely experience was witnessing a local couple stopping by early morning (possibly before work due to how smartly they were dressed) and collecting lots of empty water bottles to take off for refilling. Clean drinking water is an essential daily need of this camp just as it is a vital central issue at the heart of the fracking concerns. So, this was heart warming...<br />
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As was the woman who turned up at lunchtime with tray loads of Danish pastries and whipped cream. OK, so it wasn't vegan and I couldn't eat any but there were lots of eager takers and I was nourished by the kindness all the same.<br />
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Speaking of nourishment, there's a big camp kitchen cooking communal meals and a 'tea and info' tent where you can make yourself a cup of tea pretty much any time of the day. During my visit it did seem to be the same bunch of people in the kitchen most of the time but hopefully there's more volunteers doing this essential work than it appeared. The backlog of washing up which had built up due to a water shortage was of potentially soul-destroying proportions and took some awesome people several hours to clear, so if you visit the camp and you're able to, please volunteer to help out with this!</div>
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Of course, what goes in must come out and there are some truly impressive compost loos to deal with that. While I was there, a new toilet for campers with disabilities was built.<br />
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It's a family friendly camp and there's a large kids space with a tent full of craft materials, paints and fabrics etc. Poster paints were running low while I was there so that's another thing for the wish list... If you do take some paint to donate please bring GREEN as that's my inspiring artist's favourite colour and it'll be put to good use!<br />
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Musical instruments are great to bring along too. My son took his guitar and enjoyed playing to people. If the person who filmed him singing his song about pollution is reading this, please stick it on Youtube or something and send us a link as I missed it...<br />
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We were really lucky to catch a Seize The Day gig while we were there. This was a great night of dancing and singing along to some of the best genuinely passionate and politically authentic songs ever. Definitely check them out if you don't know about them...<br />
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There's tent spaces for quiet/meditation, meetings/workshops, library, kidspace, general chillout sofas, and the basic infrastructure for an effective community to live, organise and take action from. I think there's possibly some organisational issues to give a bit of love to, mainly in the way of communication. And with people coming and going from so many different groups, backgrounds and viewpoints, there's obviously going to be a bit in the way of internal politics going on, but this doesn't <em>have</em> to be a bad thing so long as no one is trying to dominate or drain and if we can make a commitment to respect each other and be open to genuine co-operation. Diversity can be a strength and this movement is going to be huge because if the Corporate-Government continue with their current plans, this madness is going to be huge. That's a hell of a lot of organising and working together to get used to and I hope that all across the country we can get united behind the clear intention that together we will stop the fracking nightmare from becoming a reality here. <br />
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I haven't written a lot here about fracking itself because there are so many great places to find this information and media sharing about the issues. Some good places to look are:</div>
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<a href="http://frack-off.org.uk/">http://frack-off.org.uk/</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/notes/biff-britain-ireland-frack-free/green-isles-united-in-demanding-that-britain-and-ireland-stay-frack-free/499811316711565">https://www.facebook.com/notes/biff-britain-ireland-frack-free/green-isles-united-in-demanding-that-britain-and-ireland-stay-frack-free/499811316711565</a> Scroll down for a huge list of links & resources</div>
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Balcombe Community Protection Camp <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/balcombecommunityprotectioncam/">https://www.facebook.com/groups/balcombecommunityprotectioncam/</a></div>
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Frack free Sussex <a href="https://www.facebook.com/FrackFreeSussex?fref=ts">https://www.facebook.com/FrackFreeSussex?fref=ts</a></div>
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No Dash For Gas <a href="http://www.nodashforgas.org.uk/">http://www.nodashforgas.org.uk/</a> <a href="https://www.facebook.com/nodash.forgas">https://www.facebook.com/nodash.forgas</a></div>
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And in my own local area there's a public meeting in Havant next Thursday 29th August:</div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/1410569539156170/">https://www.facebook.com/events/1410569539156170/</a></div>
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Hagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-69651176400491757912013-06-19T22:00:00.000+01:002013-06-19T22:49:26.250+01:00Visions Of The Future<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Are we on the verge of total self-destruction?<br />
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It's not hard to get distressed about the state of the world and to feel despairing about the future. In fact I find it a bit strange when people don't have at least a tad of concern about our common future and the planet as a whole. But despair, distress and defeatism can really bring you down, just as every day (unless we live in some kind of insulated bubble) we see or hear of new atrocities, threats, injustices and new depths of personal, societal and planetary destruction. <br />
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How do we keep hold of positive visions in the face of relentless and brutal violence as has been happening in the last few weeks to the people in Turkey and in countries around the world wherever people rise against the tyranny of financial, political or religious abuse of power? How do we take steps towards peace when our governments and militaries are intent on leading us into ever worsening conditions of warfare, plans for Syria being the latest? When their cuts and their undemocratic policies lead to further inequality, alienation and social breakdown within our communities?<br />
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How do we not give up in the face of insidious, multinational industries such as that of pornography, the global arms trade, animal exploitation or of corporations such as Monsanto. <br />
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Of course the corporations and governments, the bankers, arms dealers, religious fundamentalists... have visions too. Visions that are driving their actions. Visions that can be traced back to original seedbeds (or test tubes!) and can be unearthed by such investigations as following the money or asking questions like 'In what ways do they benefit?' 'Who profits?' 'What do they need us to believe in order to keep us compliant?' 'How are we feeding their power?' These questions and more can help us discover their vulnerabilities, their stakeholders, their strategies, and the opportunities which may help to bring their structures down, to target their power bases. Their visions are for the control of our future, for the continued accumulation of profit and power into the hands of the few. But we are also increasingly seeing opportunities for ways to take the first step. With the Occupy movements and the immense diversity of protests around the world (often neglected by mainstream media); with the incredible courage of whistleblowers and activists bringing the hidden abuses into the light; with the countless people who dare to imagine and share visions for a different future.<br />
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I recently went to a workshop in Glastonbury run by <a href="http://www.starhawk.org/"></a><a href="http://www.starhawk.org/">Starhawk</a> entitled 'Times of Hope and Chaos'. <br />
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We live at a pivotal moment in history, when the tides of hope are rising, but the systems that sustain us, environmental, social and financial, are crumbling all around. How do we navigate through the storm, and bring ourselves and our world to a place of harmony, balance and beauty? We need both the tools of spirit grounding, deep connection and celebration and the skills of organizing and mobilizing vision, passion, courage and commitment. And we need the ideas and principles that can help us shift our culture from an obsession with things to a focus on relationships. (From publicity text)</blockquote>
Over the weekend we discussed the difficulties we can come up against when we're trying to organise for change individually and amongst activist groups, and the strategies which we can use to creatively move through them. We worked on visioning the future. If we want to change the world we need a positive vision of what a different future can look like, rather than the predominant one being constructed by corporate capitalism and projected by mainstream media. <br />
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I was particularly struck by one exercise we did which was a visualised trance journey to experience our vision of the future we want to see. We journeyed far into the future where I stepped into my personal vision of a utopian world. I found this fairly easy to do. There were abundant images forming of harmonious living in the mental creation of my ideal world. A place where housing, education, water, food, transport, healthcare, cities, etc. were all designed and powered with respect for peoples, animals and the Earth. Simple eh! Not so surprisingly for me, the 'guide' who was waiting to meet me, turned out to be an old herbalist woman. She gave me the words 'patience', 'persistence', 'kindness'. This future was very like the positive society written about in Starhawk's book The <a href="http://www.starhawk.org/writings/fifth-sacred-thing.html"></a><a href="http://www.starhawk.org/writings/fifth-sacred-thing.html">Fifth Sacred Thing</a> which profoundly inspired me when I first read it 20 years ago and of which I'm excited to know is currently being made into a <a href="http://www.fifthsacredthing.com/"></a><a href="http://www.fifthsacredthing.com/">film</a>. Here's the latest trailer for it:<br />
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However, the next part of the visualised journey was very different and a lot more difficult. We were asked to step back halfway between this distant future vision and our current world, to experience our halfway-there future. To begin with I found it impossible. The current reality and the future possibility seemed completely disconnected. There seemed to be no path or bridge between them for me to follow and find a vision. They appeared such contrasting opposites that it felt hopeless to attempt to travel between the two on any kind of conceivable path. It felt like there was no ground on which to stand on. Then I remembered it's alright to feel that - to stay with that experience of groundlessness. (I've been helpfully influenced by the teachings of the Buddhist, Pema Chodron, in particular her book 'When Things Fall Apart'). <br />
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So, once I stopped panicking about not knowing how to get from here to there, a vision of the halfway path began to emerge. It was indeed a place of both chaos and hope, like our current world but much more so. In many ways it looked like the present, but more broken with a stronger sense of confusion and fragmentation. The chaos of old structures breaking up and the hope inherent in new ones struggling into being. I felt lost, disorientated, unsure of my focus. There was a sense of distortion, of hectic pace, of disturbing disintegration and desperate innovation. It felt like many people were moving in different directions as if sped up in a film, almost robotic in their lack of connection with those they were passing. Then there were others who were like points of stillness and moving as in slow motion. There were strong community structures growing up like powerful green shoots through concrete, infused with a wild and passionate energy of freedom and determined resilience. In a nurturing community café space I meet an old woman 'guide' who was silent. Although I couldn't hear any words from her she conveyed a message of 'just hold on', 'stand your ground'. She seemed to represent the need for an anchor point and the strength to remain.<br />
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Then in this exercise, we were asked to return to one step away from now. What is the very first step on our journey into the future we want to create? <br />
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On this workshop I met up with Marion, a woman who is creating a travelling exhibition of positive visions of the future. She showed me some inspiring bits of film she's been making around festivals asking people about what's important to them. She's collating some wonderful pieces of dreaming to help us take the steps we need towards the future we want to create. The Dream The Future project's website can be found here (although I believe Marion and the exhibition may already be on their travels). A very true quote from the website: "The best way to predict the future is to create it" -unknown.<br />
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Here's the result of a little brainstorming I did for this project. <br />
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I became quite interested in this whole positive visions idea... especially if it means opening a metaphorical window of possibility that we're not all doomed... if it means inspiring ourselves and each other into real meaningful direct action and relationships which could give us even a gnat's pee size chance of changing our current direction for the better... if it means providing a public platform for some voices of sanity... We all need to help to turn the tides of disillusion and despair, because this world, this life, is actually indescribably awesome and it's time we started loving it and daring to create the realities which are waiting to germinate from our wildest most fabulous visions!<br />
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So here are several more examples I came across of people expressing their positive visions of the future. I haven't checked them all out or who's behind them yet, but I reckon there could be some good ideas amongst them. We have to be aware of a lot of lovely words which nasty corporations and ineffective institutions like to use to give themselves a greenwash and pretend they're doing something good whilst spinning us a yarn, so doing our research amongst the information overload is an ongoing process! For example, most of us are probably aware of the way words such as 'sustainable' 'peacekeeping' and 'free range' can have hugely different meanings depending on who's using them! Next time the gloom descends, why not explore a few alternatives, or dream up our own. On the other hand, why wait until then? <br />
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<a href="http://vimeo.com/41282813">Imagine the future</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/whatonline">WHAT</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><em>Check out the following links for more visions of the future!</em></span><br />
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WHAT About the Future? (Lots of interesting short films asking the question, mainly in English or French): <a href="https://vimeo.com/whatonline/videos/page:2/sort:date">https://vimeo.com/whatonline/videos/page:2/sort:date</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/robert-rippberger/visions-for-the-future-go_b_3396725.html">http://www.huffingtonpost.com/robert-rippberger/visions-for-the-future-go_b_3396725.html</a><br />
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Creative Visions Foundation: <a href="http://www.creativevisions.org/get-involved/cap/visions-for-the-future">http://www.creativevisions.org/get-involved/cap/visions-for-the-future</a><br />
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We Dream The Future (Aimed at 12-22 yr olds): <a href="http://www.wedreamthefuture.com/">http://www.wedreamthefuture.com/</a><br />
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Winners of BBC Competition of visual visions of the future: <br />
<a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-21887443">http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-21887443</a><br />
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Er...hmm?! <a href="http://www.buzzfeed.com/lukelewis/24-visions-of-the-future-that-never-came-to-pass">http://www.buzzfeed.com/lukelewis/24-visions-of-the-future-that-never-came-to-pass</a><br />
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And because I'm an 80s girl...<br />
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'...Whatever we do let's make a pledge to put it right</div>
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So we can end the rule of the division</div>
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Putting the dream into action..."</div>
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Hagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-48389558183273484932013-06-03T00:00:00.000+01:002013-06-03T00:01:36.209+01:00Stop The Badger Cull! Now! On Saturday, I joined several thousand people in London marching against the badger cull which is planned to start any night now.<br />
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We can still stop the killing!<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/P1P_IJ_tXiA" width="420"></iframe>
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* Sign the petition: <a href="http://epetitions.direct.gov.uk/petitions/38257">http://epetitions.direct.gov.uk/petitions/38257</a><br />
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* Contact your MP: <a href="http://www.parliament.uk/get-involved/contact-your-mp/contacting-your-mp/">http://www.parliament.uk/get-involved/contact-your-mp/contacting-your-mp/</a> This week on Wed 6th June,there is a full Parliamentary debate and vote on the cull. Please urge your MP to vote against the cull.<br />
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* Keep informed of the campaign: <a href="http://www.teambadger.org.uk/index.html">http://www.teambadger.org.uk/index.html</a><br />
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* Support or join the non-violent direct action to sabotage the cull once it begins. Here are details of local groups who can help to put you in touch with activists: <a href="http://www.huntsabs.org.uk/index.php/get-involved/localgroups">http://www.huntsabs.org.uk/index.php/get-involved/localgroups</a><br />
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* Use social media. There are plenty of Facebook groups to find out about actions and campaign developments - just search 'badger cull'. On Twitter, every Monday 11am-1pm voice your opposition to the cull using the hashtag #badgermonday. Every Tuesday is #PetitionTuesday to publicise the e-petition (share the petition link above)<br />
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* Join the next march or action!<br />
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* Donate money to the campaign or the saboteurs.<br />
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There are lots of different ways we can all participate and coming at it from every angle helps. Together we can make this cull unworkable and unaffordable. Save the badgers!<br />
<br />Hagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-64425125224862485312013-05-01T21:41:00.000+01:002013-05-07T10:38:00.418+01:00Mucus Not Maypoles... Naturally Healing A Sinus Infection At Beltane!<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><em><b><span style="color: purple; font-size: 18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Happy Beltane!</span> <o:p></o:p></span></b></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well,
the Beltane sun has been shining radiantly today and I've managed to soak up a
little of it in my quest to recover from a horrible sinus infection. As I
didn't feel up for dancing around maypoles, going for long walks gathering
blossoms or making love in the morning dew, I've decided to write this blog
post as my way of celebration!</span> <o:p></o:p></span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-themecolor: text1;">Beltane
is about celebration of life, fertility and abundance, of the Earth and all who
live from her, the definite Spring and the promise ahead of Summer returning... </span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-themecolor: text1;"></span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-themecolor: text1;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-themecolor: text1;">Having
this illness has propelled me into deep gratitude for the abundance of the
Earth, in the healing foods and herbs which are getting me well again. In
particular with treating a sinus infection, I've been really stoking the
Beltane fires with the heat of garlic, onion, horseradish, cayenne... <o:p></o:p></span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-themecolor: text1;">And
the process of getting well has a lot of fertility going on within it. The
synthesis of nutrients and phytochemicals and my own biochemical responses is a
real love story creating a healthy living being (me) which can then go forth
and multiply my abundant desires and birth all the things in the world I want
to! Well, that's the plan </span></em><em><span style="color: black; font-family: Wingdings; font-style: normal; mso-ascii-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Arial; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span></em><em><b><span style="color: purple; font-size: 18pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></em><br />
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<em><b><span style="color: purple; font-size: 18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Warning:</span> </span></b></em><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Talking of 'abundance', this
post will contain the word MUCUS quite a lot of times and possibly even
descriptions. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I'm writing a post about
this partly because it took a lot of commitment and perseverance and if I ever
get sinusitis again, I can come right back here to save myself the work of figuring
out what I need! I'm not writing it as a guide for anyone else but if it does
help anyone who is looking for a way of avoiding antibiotics for ridding
themselves of a severe sinus infection, then that's great!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-themecolor: text1;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-themecolor: text1;">Of course anyone with a
serious health problem should seek the advice of a professional medical
practitioner (there are lots of good herbalists around, or even a GP).
Sometimes infections can develop a serious complication which needs urgent
immediate attention, so it's always worth checking it out with someone if you
have any concerns. And as always, do your own research!</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-themecolor: text1;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-themecolor: text1;">Pharmaceutical antibiotics certainly have their place and there's no doubt they can save lives when the time is right and necessary. But their overuse is seriously damaging peoples' health and increasing the resistance of harmful bacteria to the medicine. We can choose to take back more control of our health and find alternatives which can do a much a more effective and healthy job of supporting our recovery, with none of the damaging side-effects. </span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-themecolor: text1;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-themecolor: text1;">So far the food and herbs are proving effective but I'm also happy to have that prescription on the wall if I need it too. This is, after all, a blog post written from within the process. </span><br />
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<strong><i><span style="color: purple; font-family: "inherit","serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Background</span></span></i></strong><span style="font-family: "inherit","serif";">
</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">All my family went down
with a really nasty flu-type illness while we were on holiday. It
manifested differently for all of us but we all agreed it was horrible and
powerful and not your usual run-of-the-mill bug. I managed to get through the
holiday drinking licorice tea, Echinacea tincture, elderberry syrup and nettle
soup but also did a fair amount of wandering round windy high hills and old
cold houses and after my return it seemed to hang on as a sore throat and
general tired feeling. The sore throat made it painful to swallow, and
there was the feeling of pressure in my head and the sensation of mucus going
down the back of my throat a lot of the time. I realised I had blocked sinuses
although I could still breathe normally.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<em><b><span style="color: purple; font-family: "inherit","serif"; font-size: 18pt;"></span></b></em><br />
<em><b><span style="color: purple; font-family: "inherit","serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">YIKES! Mucus oodling out of eye!</span></span></b></em><span style="font-family: "inherit","serif";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I was watching Doctor Who on Sunday night with sudden
difficulty as my left eye started hurting as if it had eyelashes or
something in it, but there were none. Then my vision went quite cloudy and
I looked in the mirror to see creamy mucus across the iris and oodling out of
the corner of the eye. That was when I realised that my blocked sinuses had got
a bit more serious and infected. I wiped it, took some golden seal
tincture and went to bed. I didn't have a great night as my head, eye and
throat were aching a lot.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<em><b><span style="color: purple; font-family: "inherit","serif"; font-size: 18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Prescription for antibiotics</span> </span></b></em><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">In the morning I woke to
find my eye sealed closed and very swollen, as if I'd been punched very hard
and it had all puffed up. I got it open by soaking the mucus seal off with a
wet tissue, but couldn't open it fully as it was so uncomfortable. I presumed
that the eyelid was puffed out as it had so much mucus pooled beneath it but
felt a bit unsure about how safe it would be to try and massage it out. I
decided to go along to see what the GP would say about it, so that I could make
more of an informed decision. The GP said it was a nasty infection and gave me
a prescription for antibiotics. (Meanwhile, my mum had spoken to her GP about
her constant cough and flu symptoms and had been advised to take paracetamol
every four hours and drink lucozade.)</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<em><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong>Choices</strong></span></span></em><span style="color: black;"> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">So, antibiotics or was
there another option? I pinned the prescription up on the noticeboard in case at
some point I felt it was time to go down that route, and decided to go all out
for the natural healing approach. This meant taking time to pay attention to
myself and prepare my own treatment. I've got some training and knowledge of
natural healing and the use of herbs and nutrition so I needed to pull out from
this everything that would help this infection in my head from getting more
serious.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 16pt;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Information</span>
</span></i></b><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The following
foods and herbs etc. are what I used to bring down the inflammation, reduce the
infection and boost my immune system so that within two days I felt I was well
on the road to recovery without the need to use antibiotics. This information
is not meant in any way as a prescription for anyone else. I'm sharing it
because it's what helped me and it may be helpful to others who are searching
for ways to avoid antibiotics. Most of the foods and herbs I included are
specifically helpful for fighting sinus infections and infections in general.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><em><strong>Fresh fruit</strong></em></span> I had a bowl of
fruit and natural live soya yoghurt for breakfast (mango, strawberries,
raspberries, blueberries, grated ginger, grapes, soaked goji berries, cinnamon)...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong><em>Salads</em></strong></span> I had a big plate of
salad for lunch (grated beetroot, green leaves such as rocket, lettuce,
dandelion, spinach, chopped up pineapple, tomato, cucumber, celery...)
Horseradish & onion concentrate and apple cider vinegar dribbled over the top. </span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><em><strong>Raw Garlic</strong></em> <span style="color: black; font-size: small;">I had a few raw cloves a day chopped finely into my salad or soup.<em> Update: I also put a garlic poultice on the soles of my feet for a couple of hours at night which helped. I found instructions for this here: </em></span></span><br />
<span style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.herbs-hands-healing.co.uk/Ailmentsnew/lung.html"><em>http://www.herbs-hands-healing.co.uk/Ailmentsnew/lung.html</em></a></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><em><strong>Juices / Smoothies</strong></em></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had a few different juices and smoothies
throughout the day. Here are some that I used.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">1) Carrot, apple, lemon and
ginger juice with superfood (a mix with spirulina) - Daily breakfast juice.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">2) Wheatgrass, celery,
spinach, kale, apple, ginger juice - lunchtime juice, before salad.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">3) Beetroot, ginger, sage,
cucumber, kale, dandelion leaf, spinach, parsley, orange, apple juice -
mid-afternoon<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">4</span></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">) Orange, lemon, cucumber,
carrot, apple juice, fresh ginger (snack time)<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">5) Turmeric Smoothie (about 1 tsp turmeric), lemon juice (1 lemon),
ginger, banana (half a banana), then add water until tastes right - late morning or
afternoon. <em>(Update: I made this later using pineapple (about 1-2 inch slice) and I really preferred the taste as well as getting the anti-inflammatory properties of the pineapple)</em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong><em>Nettle & sinus superfood
soup</em></strong></span> - I had this for dinner a couple of times - onion, leek, garlic, cabbage,
kale, potato, nettles, parsley, sage, celery.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong><em>Herbal tinctures</em></strong></span> My primary tincture is Goldenseal, a powerful herb which works on bacteria and viruses
(1tsp 5x daily) - This is a much higher dose than you would find on the bottle
but I checked with a herbalist that I could increase to this amount, eyebright
(1tsp 3x daily and 3x daily as eyewash), echinacea & thyme, mullein &
eucalyptus.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong><em>Herbal teas </em></strong></span> chamomile,
immune blend (see Herbs Hands Healing link below), sage, licorice, fenugreek seed decoction (simmer 1 tsp fenugreek seeds in a cup of water until half the water has evaporated).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong><em>Steam inhalations</em></strong></span> - I did this about three times a day with
essential oils chosen from tea tree, eucalyptus, lavender and thyme.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong><em>Sinus flush</em></strong></span> I'd read all about the neti pot for pouring salted water up one nostril, around the sinuses and out of the other nostril, to help flush out the nastiness. The neti pot looked like a little teapot and as we couldn't find one in the shops I tried something I found in the garden...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">But I had concerns about the effectiveness of this, so I got this which seemed to do the job.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I boiled and cooled the water, added the saline solution and also added a teaspoon of colloidal silver for it's anti-microbial properties.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong><em>Throat spray</em></strong></span> My throat was sore most of the time, so I used sprays of elderberry
and also colloidal silver.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong><em>Probiotics</em></strong></span> I had this in live soya yoghurt and also took acidophilus
capsules 3 x daily. I'm going to try emptying a capsule and adding it to the sinus flush water too.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="color: purple; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;"><strong><em>Vit C & Zinc Lozenge </em></strong><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">I got my Vit C mostly from my fruit juices (especially the orange, lemon, grapefruit & ginger one) but it may help to take an additional Vit C supplement. My throat remained sore and painful to swallow for a long time and sucking a zinc lozenge at night(when it was worse) helped along with the herbal tictures. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong><em>Drinking water</em></strong></span> I tried drinking 2 litres of pure water daily but probably managed somewhere between 1 and 1 1/2.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: purple;"><strong><em>Hot/cold compresses on sinus
area</em></strong> </span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I didn't get round to doing this much, but it helps with circulation in the sinus area.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><strong><em>Rest</em></strong></span> This is the hard bit - stopping all the busyness and stresses, sleeping in bed, sitting in the garden in
the sun, looking at the blossom (noticing Stu could do with new socks! - It's good to have things which keep us grounded!).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> <o:p></o:p></span><br />
I get my Superfood and herbal tinctures mostly from a company called Herbs Hands Healing. I'm happy to give them a plug here because I trust their integrity and the quality of their products. They're also very helpful when you ring them up to ask advice. Here's a link to their website: <br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.herbs-hands-healing.co.uk/">http://www.herbs-hands-healing.co.uk/</a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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Here are a couple of other links that may be useful:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://agriculturesociety.com/alternative-medicine-and-treatment/how-i-cured-a-raging-sinus-infection-naturally-with-no-drugs/">http://agriculturesociety.com/alternative-medicine-and-treatment/how-i-cured-a-raging-sinus-infection-naturally-with-no-drugs/</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://juicerecipes.com/health-conditions/juicing-for-sinus-congestion/">http://juicerecipes.com/health-conditions/juicing-for-sinus-congestion/</a><br />
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And for all those people who are disappointed that I didn't include lots of MUCUS photo's - I know a certain 8 year old who might be... here's a picture for you...</div>
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</span>Haha... <span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">only joking, that's the surface of my beetroot and green leaf juice!</span></span><br />
<br />Hagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-17837202258728373262013-04-02T14:31:00.000+01:002014-02-17T09:32:58.301+00:00Remembering The Things That Matter. Rest In Peace Bill<br />
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In the first early hour of this morning, our friend Bill died.<br />
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I got to know Bill through my son who met him in the park a couple of years ago and they became good friends. They'd meet up every morning for 'dog club' which was a meeting of local dog walkers who had become friends. In the past few months Bill was able to make the journey less and less to the park because of illness and so we occasionally visited him round his house or in hospital. He didn't have any family but he had some good friends who loved him a lot.<br />
<br />
Bill's death has hit me unexpectedly hard, not only because he has gone, and left a sad hole in our community. Not only because of the very special friendship he shared with my son that has come to an end. It has hit me hard mostly because it has come as a painful wake-up call to how I've let the daily activities and distractions of life obscure what matters most. I can't believe that I needed to learn this lesson yet again.<br />
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But the last month Bill has been in hospital and we've been wrapped up in our own lives and just not got round to visiting and keeping in touch as we could have done. We've visited once in that time. A couple of weeks ago, Bill phoned and until this weekend we've still been saying to each other "We must phone Bill..." We'll never know what he was wanting to say to us. I know he would have been hoping for a visit from my son because this always made him so happy. What hurts so bitterly is that we withheld this from him and my son (unintentionally by our lack of awareness), and the opportunities we've missed (for no good reason) to bring support and comfort to someone we cared about in the final weeks of his life. We could have done so much more and we would have wanted to. We could have picked up the phone.<br />
<br />
We visited Bill on Easter day in the evening after a neighbour had called to say he was very ill. When we got there he was already unconscious and he never regained consciousness. They say that hearing is the last to go. I hope he could hear my son saying hello and telling him a joke out of the new copy of The Red Crow he'd brought him. My son never got to shock him with his new haircut or share chocolate fingers with him but I hope he knew we were there. <br />
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I think it was Nelson Mandela who said the saddest two words in the language are "too late". I most definitely agree. <br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">All that matters at the end is forgiveness, gratitude and love.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">What hurts most is having missed opportunities for kindness, for communication, for giving and receiving love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span> </div>
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Dear Bill, thank you. May you journey well and in peace.</div>
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<br />Hagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-45192180760316318282013-03-19T19:42:00.002+00:002013-03-19T19:42:21.413+00:00Quick, Don't Blink! A Spring Day!It's been feeling so much like Winter again recently that when I saw the sun outside this morning there was a sense of urgency to get out in it as quickly as possible, in case it decided to snow or do something really grim again before I could get my boots on. So I hurried my son off the computer, got the dog lead and camera and we were OUT!<br />
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Probably the most beautiful place really nearby is the coast walk alongside Milton Common. Last time we came here my son got stuck in the mud and it led to a 999 call and a chat with the coastguard. It had all ended happily (eventually!) without the need for anyone to come out but it did mean losing his boot out there in the mud somewhere. The tide was out this morning and it looked so tempting to just go out and see if we could find it but NO WAY am I going to let those deceptive mudflats trick us again! <br />
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I played with my camera and took some pics using minimal colour which perhaps ironically undermined the warm Spring light and bright colours of the day! What was I thinking of? That could be snow and ice on the path! But in another way they emphasise certain details which I like such as the blue sky, the yellow lichen or daffodils, my son and the texture of wood.<br />
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This is my favourite wrecked boat - every time I see it, I see a big whale tail and then a whale skeleton below. It begs to be sketched or photographed. <br />
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There were long deep shadows and my son never misses an opportunity to give me bunny ears, though they came out really tiny. After all these shots of grey my son began objecting and implored that we give the day back its full vibrant colours of life. So here we are again with Pip and the daffodils, saying YES, IT'S SPRING! We don't care that the weather forecast for the rest of the week is heavy rain, today the sun was beautiful and we embraced it. <br />
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Hagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-3699493267204709622013-02-17T10:00:00.000+00:002013-02-17T10:00:36.338+00:00Four Years On ~ Computers, Beaches And Bumholes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">February is full of mixed feelings. The weather can feel
like we're still in the middle of Winter and yet there are the first signs of
Spring appearing. Snowdrops, hyacinth and narcissi are blooming in my garden. There is the lightness of the very early Spring sun as well
as the feeling that we're moving towards warmer, longer days and Summer! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But February also brings the sadness of being the month my brother died. On
entering February it can feel like a bit of a countdown towards the 19th/20th
where thoughts of what was happening this time four years ago bring increased anxiety and keep me awake at
night. Because there can be no hiding or turning away, I decide to rise to
meet it each year with some kind of creative process. Something practical and engaging. Some form of an offering, which in
the making, helps me feel closer to my brother at that time when I think he
probably felt intensely alone. I see it as a piece of magic, to imagine that I am throwing my attention
back through the years to wrap it around
him during those dark days, that dark night, to surround him in lightness, warmth and love, for then and for now. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This February,
I had a go at using movie/photo editing software for the first time. I got quite hooked! Entering the software to work on this project felt a bit like entering a sacred space. It was interesting as I usually find computers and screens generally to be a bit of an antithesis of the sacred, an invasion of my internal and external space. Give me an old tree in the woods anyday for my temple. But I suddenly found myself tapping away late at night and in the very small hours of the morning. My brother spent much of his time in the 'temple' of the computer screen, so this was probably quite fitting. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The visit to his old house for the photo was quite a big deal for me as I have managed to avoid going down his road ever since the house sold over 3 years ago. I still can't really get my head round the fact that if I ring the bell, I won't see his shape through the glass, coming along the hall to open the door. I don't think I'll ever fully understand that. For some things the brain just will not compute. At those times what are our choices? Shut down, hibernate or switch user? That's the challenge I suppose, to remain entirely ourselves, power on, ready to open to a fresh new page. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The visit to the beach for this project was part of the same afternoon 'ritual', a ritual in which a pathway can be mapped out through the sometimes overwhelming chaos of grief. A candle, the shingle, the waves, the sea gulls, they can all be anchors to this moment <em>now</em> and they can also all be a bridge to <em>then</em>. Paul, this is for you... we miss you so much.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A few words about Paul's box of angels... I found this when we were sorting out his stuff. I felt like I wanted to contact the maker of them to tell her about Paul's death in case she didn't already know, to thank her for giving him such a beautiful gift, for obviously being someone who had brought some blessings into his life at one time and to offer her the opportunity of taking back her 'angels'. My letter went all the way to an address I found in America and a few months later came back to me unopened. So, I keep them safely with me now, letting their blessings remind me of some of the most important things in life. I hope their creator would be happy with that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And there's one last thing I want to put out there Paul, if you're somehow picking this up. Your nephew came across something which made him laugh a lot! We really wanted to show you! It's the little things like this which sometimes hit me with your loss the hardest. So here it is - you kept this a bit quiet didn't you, don't worry, your secret's safe with us! <em>Look, it really is you! </em>xxx</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">From 'Loads More Lies To Tell Small Kids' by Andy Riley</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span>Hagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-63190836323537533362013-02-02T14:49:00.003+00:002013-02-02T14:49:49.415+00:00Imbolc Brigid Poetry Festival 2013It's the Brigid Poetry Festival time again. Find out more about it and join in yourself by <a href="https://m.facebook.com/BrigidPoetryFest?id=124403944294363&_rdr">clicking here!</a><br />
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This year my contribution is this poem written by Jehanne Mehta , which I discovered on a <a href="http://www.transitionlongashton.co.uk/">Bristol Transition Group</a> website. Although I've never visited <a href="http://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/minchinhampton-and-rodborough-commons/">Minchinhampton Common</a>, the poem speaks for my feelings about the land in many places I have been. <br />
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Having been involved recently with the <a href="http://combehavendefenders.wordpress.com/">protests in the Combe Valley</a>, land ownership has been at the forefront of my mind. Who owns it, sells it, buys it (by compulsory purchase if they choose) and all of these so often completely detatched from those who care for it and inhabit it. Whether defined as a Common or as privately owned, I feel in a world where nature is receding so rapidly and great violence is being done to the land and what springs from the land, we have to question more and more the responsibilities of wild land ownership and even question whether anyone can truly claim ownership as opposed to environmental stewardship. I dedicate this offering to Brigid and to the fallen oaks of Combe Haven, who I know belonged only to themselves.<br />
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<span style="color: navy;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>On Minchinhampton Common</strong></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: navy;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"></span></span></span><br />
<em><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: navy;">I am walking,<br />
walking barefoot on the common,<br />
on this warm green ground,<br />
ground that belongs only to itself,<br />
to the four wise winds,<br />
to the treasures it conceals under its<br />
ancient crinkled gown, cow trodden,<br />
unfurling it all along the changing<br />
seasons of the sun,<br />
in subtlest colours of gold, violet<br />
purple and dark blue,<br />
finely stitched and embroidered with<br />
bramble, briar and hawthorn<br />
and spangled with the dew.</span><br />
<span style="color: navy;"></span><br />
<span style="color: navy;">This is common ground,<br />
never ploughed,<br />
never dug, since<br />
long forgotton folk<br />
built round houses,<br />
buried their dead,<br />
threw up bulwarks against<br />
marauders<br />
and watched the stars,<br />
glimpsed through forest<br />
boughs<br />
ages since unseen,<br />
dipping and wheeling<br />
in their round dance<br />
horizon to horizon.<br />
Here I walk on Albion’s ground,<br />
her secret spirit still awake,<br />
in spite of the fog that fetters feeling<br />
and tangles thinking into knots we do not<br />
even notice,<br />
her secret spirit will awake,<br />
still calling through our feet;<br />
and do we hear, do we hear<br />
the quiet insistent voice of the ground,<br />
the common ground that belongs only<br />
to itself?</span></span></em><br />
<span style="color: navy;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"></span></span><br />
<span style="color: navy;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: black;">~ Jehanne Mehta, 2011</span></span></span><br />
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Hagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-77958221636469240532013-01-29T12:32:00.003+00:002013-01-30T08:27:48.838+00:00The End Of the BeginningThe most important thing to say right now is that there are still people up in the trees at Combe Haven. Yesterday there were no trees cut down despite the eviction beginning in the morning and continuing all day. Last night the news of the actions of East Sussex County Council was shocking and appalling:<br />
<a href="http://combehavendefenders.wordpress.com/2013/01/28/treetop-protesters-lives-endangered-by-sussex-council/">http://combehavendefenders.wordpress.com/2013/01/28/treetop-protesters-lives-endangered-by-sussex-council/</a><br />
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As of 10.30am today the latest news is that the eviction of the camp has started again and work is taking place to get people out of the trees, and the Council is still denying people food and medicine:<br />
<a href="http://combehavendefenders.wordpress.com/2013/01/29/day-47-jan-29-decoy-pond-camp-eviction-continues/">http://combehavendefenders.wordpress.com/2013/01/29/day-47-jan-29-decoy-pond-camp-eviction-continues/</a><br />
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Please keep checking the website above or Combe Haven Defenders Facebook and Twitter for updates and get over there to support them if you're able.<br />
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My family slid and slopped through the rivers of mud into the camp on Sunday. There was busy activity around the camp all day, not only hosting the visit from the senior delegates from six major environmental groups (RSPB, Greenpeace, Friends of the Earth, The Wildlife trusts, Campaign for Better Transport and the Campaign to Protect Rural England) but also building defences around the camp and fixing up tree nets, practicing climbing, keeping visitors fed with a seemingly inexhaustible hospitality, etc.<br />
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</a>All this was busily going on around my son who buried his head in a new book for most of the day, but insisted he really liked being there at the camp to do so. Quite a few children visited the camp during the day, including one young boy who brought his own harness and did some impressive climbing up in the oaks. <br />
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As it got dark, some people left, including my family, and those who were staying ate round the fire and discussed what would happen the following day. I headed to my tent for an early night and stood transfixed for a while looking up at the clear sky and the full moon through the branches. </div>
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I didn't get a lot of sleep, partly the cold and partly dreams of falling in mud waking me up with a start and other times thinking I heard people calling only to realise it was owls hooting to each other. People were up early in the morning and preparing their positions. I was still a bit undecided, whether to try and get up a tree or assist with keeping bailiffs out from below. Then someone offered the irresistable opportunity to lock my arm into a block of concrete and Yay! I had a plan. Was I worried? My face does look unintentionally worried sometimes but No! Oh, ok, just a tiny bit...it was a new experience and I'm quite attached to my arm. <br />
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Reports of vans arriving confirmed the eviction was going to take place. The defences built up the day before with brambles and wire were helpful in keeping them out for a while, together with some smoke clouding visibility. <br />
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Meanwhile at the back of the camp, people were blocking them from coming over the stream, where a couple of metal bridges were brought in. A tractor brought a load of fencing which started going up around the camp.<br />
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Some defenders were roughly dragged from the bridge onto the other side of the stream and a man who managed to get back into the camp was arrested and carried off site. <br />
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I loved the radical poetry that was recited loudly for all to here from out of the treetops and the way someone was serenading the camp with CNT anarchist songs. I loved the care and kindness shown by people on the ground (before they got evicted) to ensure those who were locked-on were comfortable as possible and had what they needed. I loved the man who built me a wooden seat and the woman who brought me a jumper to pad it with (sorry I still have this jumper and need to get it back to its owner!). I loved the sense of humour of some of those up there who kept spirits high and even halted the work of the pneumatic drilling on our lock-on for a while. I loved my lock-on colleague who made me laugh quite a lot. I loved the tree I was locked beside and whenever police spoke to me I just focussed all my attention on this and then I couldn't hear or see them anymore...</div>
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After being carried out of the camp beyond the fencing boundary, we could see everyone who was still up in the trees and on the tripod and knew this was going to certainly go into a second day. Maybe the police and bailiffs would have got more done if they hadn't kept stopping for tea-breaks and to go off and play in their bouncy castle... </div>
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Who knows, but everyone who participated in the resistance won the trees another day. </div>
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There's a lot of people, myself included, who have referred to the people living and taking action at Combe Haven as 'heroes', who have said 'well done' and 'brilliant' and 'keep up the good work'. I've said it and had it said to me and I understand this response. It's supportive and is appreciated as such. However, I'm also aware that when we talk like this and use words like 'heroes', we're placing a distance between ourselves and them. As if we're saying that they're doing something we couldn't do. As if we can't all be as strong and remarkable, as brave and committed as these people. I realise we can't all physically get there, we can't all juggle our differing responsibilities to offer the same levels of involvement as everyone else, but most of us can join in practically in some way. Most of us can possibly claim the power to be as heroic as those we congratulate and do something real to make a difference, as well as watching and sharing the updates rolling in on our screens and keeping on sending our important words of support. Our countryside is facing a huge devastating onslaught in the months and years ahead by the £30 billion roadbuilding schemes that are coming. The environmental resistance to this needs to grow to meet it. </div>
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I know while I've been focussed on Combe Haven, there's as ever, a whole load of other shit in the world taking place that also requires attention and action. It's up to us to make choices about where we put our energy and do what we feel we can within the web, as it's all connected. Remembering to look after ourselves at the same time! So I'll still be going to work later, taking my son to his guitar class, calling on parents, walking the dog, and because I can't be there today, keep checking and sharing those online news updates. But something I've noticed from participation in direct action camps and actions, not just there at Combe Haven, is that they're places that can not only possibly make change and have a real impact on the world, but they can be really good places to restore my faith in humanity and inspire my spirit with good company and creative visions of what a better world feels like, already here and now, whatever the future holds. </div>
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If you haven't signed it, please sign this petition: </div>
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<a href="https://secure.avaaz.org/en/petition/Save_the_site_of_the_Battle_of_Hastings_and_Norman_Invasion_Sites">https://secure.avaaz.org/en/petition/Save_the_site_of_the_Battle_of_Hastings_and_Norman_Invasion_Sites</a></div>
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<br />Hagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-68678457695806579222013-01-24T08:26:00.001+00:002013-01-24T11:37:44.218+00:00Combe Haven Calling...<p> I have to admit it, I hesitated with the decision and had to sleep on it.The urgent call for people to come to the last camp at Combe Haven which they expect to be evicted this coming Monday 28th got an immediate emotional response but not a practical one. This weekend is busy for me. It would be really inconvenient to go this time. It wouldn't only be easy to stay away and hope lots of other people go, but it would probably be sensible. I'm looking forward to a child's birthday party with friends on Sunday. I have an annual visit from an LEA officer on Monday morning to discuss my son's home education. I have paid work Monday evening. </p>
<p>But.</p>
<p>What's happening in the Combe Valley is not sensible, neither is it easy for the people trying to stop it. It's certainly inconvenient to the animals and trees and other inhabitants of the open countryside who stand in it's way. </p>
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<p>How will I be able to sit calmly explaining to the woman from the LEA how I'm providing my son with an education, show her his biology book where we've studied photosynthesis and the structure of plants at the very same time that I know in a beautiful part of our countryside, bailiffs and chainsaws are working their hardest to destroy those things, to destroy a vital aspect of this country which I try to teach my son to value, respect and appreciate? Maybe a responsible parent would not be sitting at a table in a meeting which <em>could </em>be postponed and instead be up in the branches of one of those trees or at the very least be on the ground trying to prevent such a crime, to protect those majestic plant structures which perform the life-giving process of photosynthesis, for the generations to come (wildlife generations as well as human)? It's not in the text book I know, but then the most important things rarely are.</p>
<p>Will I enjoy a party, chat, eat cake (amazing as I know it will be!) while a group of dedicated, cold, probably very tired people are urgently calling for help to save their camp, save the last remaining mature oak trees in the area, a call that by next week will most likely be far too late.</p>
<p>How can I go off to work, smile at the customers, earn my money, while not being there to try and stop this country being made another big step poorer. To some people, this may sound overdramatised, like an out of proportion concern, that we're talking about a handful of trees and that given the immense number of problems the world is facing, energy could be better spent elsewhere. I totally agree that the enormity of the issues in crisis which as a global community we are facing can feel overwhelming and that if we look at, for example, <a href="http://ran.org/">rainforest destruction</a>, then these few trees at Combe Haven can seem almost insignificant. But, it is exactly because of both the devastating global and national environmental context we are in, which makes this struggle so vitally important. It's because of the current economic crisis that it's so insane to be <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2012/oct/10/controversial-zombie-roads-scheme-resuscitated">resurrecting a roads programme</a> which will divert billions away from the essential services which the infrastructure of our society truly needs. To choose to act locally we can each begin to confront the bigger picture which otherwise can seem unmanageable. To act to save these particular individual trees, to stop this particular road from going ahead, we can help to prevent an avalanche of future environmental destruction across Britain's countryside. I suppose it comes down to what we care about, what we choose to identify with. </p>
<p>If the eviction does not happen after all on Monday will I have cancelled my previous commitments for nothing? No, I don't think so. I obviously want to make the effort for the occasion that would be most effective but each day not evicted is a good thing and while I'm there I can make every second count in giving support to this amazing community. Even if I can't go and live there. Even if I can only give a couple of days.</p>
<p>And next week it may be too late. </p>
<p>So I'm writing this post in haste, knowing that through the writing of it I have come to a decision. Combe Haven has called to me, the oaks, the badgers, that particular little robin, the people. How can I say no? </p>
<p><a href="http://combehavendefenders.wordpress.com/2013/01/23/urgent-appeal-defend-combe-haven-resist-the-eviction/">Urgent Appeal from Combe Haven Defenders</a></p>
<p> </p>Hagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-16302569269432234842013-01-20T00:43:00.000+00:002013-01-20T09:18:16.589+00:00Why I Went To Combe Haven (And Why I'll Be Back) <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtp-6rxa9fV0XfB-8K0sBbWeeDVe7kCBa-jfd4P0sDwgZu4il4bacAwXslIFEk7cWBCR8hgYouMmYysDDB0MfQk7qTDmJ3lCqDxYLxqs0tuiBtFZ4bMaUEDB8lKWWqHeghok22sZ6LXgk/s1600/DSC02362.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br>
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<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtp-6rxa9fV0XfB-8K0sBbWeeDVe7kCBa-jfd4P0sDwgZu4il4bacAwXslIFEk7cWBCR8hgYouMmYysDDB0MfQk7qTDmJ3lCqDxYLxqs0tuiBtFZ4bMaUEDB8lKWWqHeghok22sZ6LXgk/s1600/DSC02362.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtp-6rxa9fV0XfB-8K0sBbWeeDVe7kCBa-jfd4P0sDwgZu4il4bacAwXslIFEk7cWBCR8hgYouMmYysDDB0MfQk7qTDmJ3lCqDxYLxqs0tuiBtFZ4bMaUEDB8lKWWqHeghok22sZ6LXgk/s400/DSC02362.JPG" id="blogsy-1358672621142.6223" class="" width="225" height="400" alt=""></a>We can follow the news and keep track of protests from the various multiple means of social media but nothing quite teaches us like being in the physical reality of a place or being in the actual presence of the people involved.The people in the protest against the Bexhill-to-Hastings link road have been in my thoughts every day, particularly since the icy weather set in and the camps started getting evicted. They've been camped up in trees and on the ground along the site of the planned road in the Combe Valley since December 14th. Their situation is the first thing I check in the morning. Check them out here: <a href="https://mobile.twitter.com/combe_haven">Twitter</a> <a href="https://m.facebook.com/combehaven.defenders?_rdr">Facebook</a> <a href="http://combehavendefenders.wordpress.com/">Website</a> </p>
<p>So I really needed to get over there and show my support in a way that went beyond sending thoughts and just feeling an equal combination of worry (caused by the corporate criminals and their accomplices) and gratitude (for those heroes defending the valley). I went with the purpose of taking a load of food, helping to prevent an eviction if it occurred, providing some general support for the camp and learning what I could from the people and the land that I encountered. </p>
<p>Approaching the current camp at Decoy Pond Wood, I passed the site of the Three Oak Camp which was evicted last week and where the 400 yr old oak lay fallen. I can't help wondering how the person whose hands were on that chainsaw gets to sleep at night, but I guess it's the same old story the world over of the aggressor being so disconnected from the life they are destroying. And of course it's all about the money and the increasingly brutal capitalist mindset which sees 'countryside' as just another resource to abuse and profit from in the cause of economic and industrial 'growth', rather than as a vital bio-diverse network of interacting relationships.</p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV5D5D0VuqKJgeqkcVeHkCXQStYmTeqtD9HGplV-GM_S2y8CZ5TJXCOkN3lvq6smT17UkA7dbtALePKC37Npnib71YQTVdHik_c-itjfPkMgH16Q1z1vEHil-EHcsey9TqfSlaZ7Ch8jw/s1600/DSC02364.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV5D5D0VuqKJgeqkcVeHkCXQStYmTeqtD9HGplV-GM_S2y8CZ5TJXCOkN3lvq6smT17UkA7dbtALePKC37Npnib71YQTVdHik_c-itjfPkMgH16Q1z1vEHil-EHcsey9TqfSlaZ7Ch8jw/s640/DSC02364.JPG" id="blogsy-1358672621101.5146" class="" width="640" height="322" alt=""></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Combe Valley...the blue shape in the distant tree is at the Decoy Pond Wood camp</td></tr></tbody></table>
<p>Arriving early morning at the camp, everything was pretty quiet, people starting to wake up in the tree houses and benders and someone starting to get the fire lit. Despite the two other camps having been evicted this week, there was a rumour that there wouldn't be an eviction here today due to police being called elsewhere and so not being available to assist the bailiffs. Shortly after 8am we had a visit from four police liaison officers, apparently calling by to check that everyone was still alive (the good cops I guess... the bad cops will no doubt appear when people are dragged out of trees and arrested). </p>
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<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPWrdQyg5ulpjfJ8OeO6uS7Lu36ia6oV4b3tU3IRVylUSnB5v9Vc1YJHg-hhyphenhyphenMlhXT4uTT0KdGszwvDe_VC-ygNJzmlDGKf0HI_kB7JTqe2tdYyJ2lmTfZ7HLQQAZlw_sjY0KE6EZNO_8/s1920/Photo%25252018%252520Jan%2525202013%25252009%25253A11.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPWrdQyg5ulpjfJ8OeO6uS7Lu36ia6oV4b3tU3IRVylUSnB5v9Vc1YJHg-hhyphenhyphenMlhXT4uTT0KdGszwvDe_VC-ygNJzmlDGKf0HI_kB7JTqe2tdYyJ2lmTfZ7HLQQAZlw_sjY0KE6EZNO_8/s500/Photo%25252018%252520Jan%2525202013%25252009%25253A11.jpg" id="blogsy-1358672621105.1587" class="alignright" width="500" height="281" alt=""></a>After they'd gone, a couple of us kept watch out near the road in case any suspicious crowds of people in fluorescent jackets and hard hats appeared. They didn't and the camp was to see another day, not evicted. </p>
<p>Another group of supporters arrived and we all set about collecting wood to build up a huge log pile for the camp, as with the current freezing conditions, keeping the fire fed is going to be so important. The fire feels like the heart, not only providing warmth and power for heating pans and kettles, but a central place to gather, take a break, drink tea together and draw a bit of comfort under incredibly harsh conditions.</p>
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<p>While collecting wood we noticed painted red line markings on earth and plants which indicate the route the road will take. The bright red lines conspicuously out of place here, tracing the path of the destruction to come. Red lines writing the language of 'progress' across the countryside, which neither trees nor badgers, voles nor newts, blackbirds nor I can understand. Maybe they will dissolve under the snowfall, get erased by the wind. Perhaps they will get rubbed out by the mud scattering beneath our boots as we pass, collecting wood. That's strange, I don't see them anymore!</p>
<p>Back at the camp, a new bender was being built for storing food and a tarpaulin shelter was erected above the fire circle. Strings of coloured bunting were hung along the front edge, welcoming and celebratory. Celebrating the survival so far of this demonstration of resistance and suggesting the party to come when the Government's resurrection of nearly 200 road schemes are once more abandoned. It was the <a href="http://chariotofhagthorn.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/20th-anniversary-of-twyford-down-no-new.html?m=1">Twyford</a> Down and Newbury Road protests in the early 90's which put an end to Thatcher's 'Roads For Prosperity' programme, which is where many of today's proposed road schemes originate. This is why I feel the Bexhill-to-Hastings link road, as the first project of the Government's roads revival, needs to be met with the strongest resistance, to set the stage for the costs and obstruction they will face if they choose to bulldoze ahead, regardless of public opposition and the vital importance of preserving this country's quickly diminishing natural environments.</p>
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<p>Taking a walk across the field and into a small wood, I was faced with another sign of the consequences of this road. This time on the badger population, as if a proposed cull in the country was not enough to threaten this jokingly 'protected' animal. Yes, I've read Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy, I know all about 'compulsory purchase' of homes for the purposes of highways. People are forcibly losing their <a href="http://www.bexhillobserver.net/news/bexhill-news/houses-to-go-for-the-link-road-1-4460588">houses</a> for the road as well as <a href="http://www.bexhillobserver.net/news/bexhill-news/compulsory-purchases-1-4669219">businesses</a> which stand in the way. And of course the uncountable multitude of wild birds and animals which will be displaced or killed is of no consequence, even when there are apparently laws designed to keep them safe. Ah, but they can get a licence to allow them to make something criminal not criminal... easy! Sorry, still criminal in my book. I saw whole banks of closed setts for evictions of <a href="http://hastingsonlinetimes.co.uk/hot-topics/campaigns/badgers-made-homeless">badgers</a> just in a very small area.</p>
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<p>Back at the camp I had a cup of tea and then set off with a couple of others across the fields to the Base Camp which had been evicted the previous day. We were on a mission to retrieve anything useful, in particular, several chairs which could be used at the existing camp. We stopped to marvel at the beauty of the snow topped pond and someone mentioned that this pond may need to be 'moved' to make way for the road.</p>
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<p>At the demolished Base Camp, I couldn't help noticing a post-apocalyptic feeling as we searched through the wreckage left by the eviction. Up here, on top of the ridge of the old railway line, there were far-reaching views in all directions over the countryside and as I looked, my mind juxtaposed images of what I could see with images of what is to come. How much of this would survive? This wild place of birdsong to be replaced with the urban sprawl between towns and the roar of cars. Then I looked down at the fallen tree still holding the tree-house. The sawn stumps all around which strike me not only with the tragedy of themselves destroyed, but with what they represent of a culture which is allowing greed and ignorance to control the sources and means of life. The irony of a world literally driving itself into a climate nightmare, hellbent on more roads and less trees, along with all the other absurdities which are pushing us all closer to the edge of a potentially very real apocalyptic world. </p>
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<p>Heading back, footprints, mine and a bird and nearby paw prints, making visible what time usually hides from us - the sharing of space with unknown others. The reminder that we do not walk alone, we cannot claim the absolute ownership of the space we occupy. For the brief time that we are here, we may start remembering that despite all our human fences and laws and red lines marking our various boundaries, there is such a thing as free communal space, as space that can and should exist beyond our ability to colonise it. The space where the badger runs in the darkness and the foxes play, where the yellow-necked mice scamper and the crow hops, where we each may meet only as passing footprints left behind in the snow.</p>
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<p>Conversation at the camp later touched on possible ways forward for the protest, the next steps that can be taken. There were good ideas shared of mass trespasses, mass picnics, more camps, actions drawing attention to the companies who are profiting from the road. I liked the suggestion of an occupation of <a href="http://combehavendefenders.wordpress.com/2012/12/27/trinity-college-cashing-in-on-the-link-road/">Trinity</a> College in Cambridge. Trinity has been a particularly aggressive force for the urban development of the large area of peaceful countryside that it owns. Maybe we could take up the issue with them in their own backyard? </p>
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<p>Around the camp as we sat and chatted, we kept seeing a little robin coming and going, hopping from twig to twig. I imagined him as a small protest camp guardian, overseeing the work of those who are trying so desperately hard to safeguard his home.</p>
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<p>There is a call out for as many people to come as possible this weekend to help prepare defences including a free <a href="http://combehavendefenders.wordpress.com/2013/01/19/sun-20-jan-catch-the-combe-haven-bus-to-decoy-pond-camp/">bus</a> service. Obviously Monday early morning is especially important, to support and oppose the eviction itself. Even if you don't climb trees and lock on in an arrestable action, it helps to be present and support those who are, and to be a witness or act as a legal observer. <br>
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<p style="text-align: center;">Standing in this open field, snow falling softly,</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">settling on me, on earth, these trees, woods,</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">here only for now. Only for now, this land</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">belonging to us,</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">badgers deep under the hard ground.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">For now it all pauses, snow falls</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">as if in slow motion,</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">everything is held just as it is, safe.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Standing here at the scene of the crime,</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">while it has not yet happened,</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">trees still standing,</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">as if there still could be wisdom in the world,</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">As if there still could be hope.</p>
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<p> Whatever happens over the coming week, the protest will not be over when this camp is evicted. The road is going to be in the making for the next two years and so it's going to be a long term project. The conservative estimate of £30 billion which is the new roads budget, would be better invested at least in part on the railways which are heading towards a crisis. My journey home from camp took six hours, instead of three. There were broken down trains, cancellations, no drivers to be found, signal failures, announcement and display malfunctions... Every train journey I've taken over the last few months has involved a delay or problem of some kind, with or without one or two inches of snow to contend with. We don't need new roads but if they don't know what to do with the money, there's a hell of a lot of other things that could do with fixing.</p>Hagthornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14544592001228672621noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9158759204162014020.post-43493090825058591892013-01-11T17:41:00.002+00:002013-01-12T10:06:53.684+00:00The Classroom Is Awesome Today!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So another fun-filled day of education! That is what we're doing isn't it? This walking along a beach in the sun with swans, gulls and crows for bickering, giggling classmates. This stopping to stroke friendly dogs and chat with passing strangers. This watching the ducks swimming in and out of the reeds, seeing how the lake shimmers with gentle ripples and reflects the trees like glass. This wading into the waves and picking up pebbles and taking deep breaths of the seaweedy air. This exclaiming at how the sea looks such a tropical blue and so clear today and we should come back with our wetsuits and towels to go swimming! </div>
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I get increasingly asked these days, 'what are you going to do about GCSE's?' Is there a GCSE in beachcombing yet? Will have to check that out!</div>
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The Local Education Authority will be coming round for their annual visit in a couple of weeks time to check our son is receiving an 'appropriate' education and discuss our learning objectives. We see their assessment as unnecessary and irrelevant to our approach to education but my son quite enjoyed the visit last year so we're not concerned about it. My son can reassure them that he is quite clear about his learning objectives - more animation and more comic-making and more animation and maybe a bit more animation, a splash of game-making, a bit of coding and some more animation. My son can confirm that he's receiving an entirely appropriate education although he might say that he feels that he could be doing a bit more animation than there has currently been time for, especially if his mum didn't keep dragging him out to look at ducks...</div>
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Yes, we pin him down for some maths and english and a few other things that will be useful (and will probably head towards getting a few of those pesky GCSE things everyone keeps talking about sometime). Yes, he does plenty of other activities and meets other people, including other CHILDREN!! And despite my occasional assertions to the contrary, I don't<em> really</em> keep him in a cupboard. No, it's not always fun-packed and awesome and sometimes we screw up a bit or a lot or feel like tearing our hair out (or someone else's) but we're all committed to seeing it through and following the principle of what education is about for us (though it's about so much more than one sentence can ever express) - enabling someone with the knowledge and skills to be who they want to be, to do what makes them happy and follow where that leads them. It's true that my son hopes it will lead him into making lots of money and acquiring international fame, as somehow, despite having anarchist parents, he's got a hint of the global capitalist about him occasionally. Time will tell... </div>
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In the meantime, we continue to learn, the planned 'lessons' and the unexpected ones that just spring up from being alive and curious and interacting with the world, in all kinds of places, and actually that <em>is</em> pretty awesome.</div>
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In case anyone's wondering what that highly intellectual academic tome is that my son is reading, er, can we change the subject now please....</div>
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