Last Saturday, I had my flu jab and I have been running through its variety pack of side-effects every since. But most of all, I’ve been sleeping.
After all the stress and excitement of the last few months, my body had had enough. Having ignored all the hints, it took matters into its own hands and downed tools.
Though I’m feeling much better after yesterday’s gargantuan sleep fest, I realised that trying to wrestle a thousand word article today might be a bit too much. I hope you’ll understand.
Hermione enjoying a rest Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
Because no-one likes to shirk their responsibilities (even if it is just a blog post) or let others down or say no.
Most of all, I hate being the one who says I don’t think I could manage that outing or event. No-one wants to be responsible for disappointed faces! As a result, I often say ‘yes’, knowing as I do so that I will pay with my health later.
But we live in a world of constant activity and the insistent message that we are missing out. Of course, we are. No-one can see or do everything: the nature of time sees to that. Yet, rather than seeing this as a failing in our lives, we should see it as a benefit. With hours limited, we should spend them only on those things which really matter and fully engage in them when we do.
I’m trying to be more like Hermione who is active to levels beyond my comprehension and then settles down for a nap or cuddle. Does she worry that she hasn’t seen The Great Wall of China or walks in the same park days in a row or misses a play due to rain? Of course not. She takes it as it comes and relishes each moment.
Because she understands far better than we do that to live well, we need time to rest and to dream; to gather up the woolly tangle of our lives into a neat ball so that we might knit a great adventure later.
So I wish you a good week full of joys and also times of rest. As for me, I’m off for a coffee and to resume reading my novel.
Our recent trip to Northern Italy has left my head positively fizzing with the beauty of its art and architecture.
We had planned the break as an opportunity to meet up with very dear friends who live in Germany. We were twice blessed: with an amazing location and great companions to share it with.
Tempting though it is to make this a postcard account of a short but very full stay, I’d like to veer from the Tripadvisor mode and focus a little more on some of the less obvious aspects and the longer lasting impacts of such a adventure.
With our usual good luck, we were to arrive in Venice on the day of a nationwide transport strike, which meant we could get to Venice airport but not the city nor our planned destination of Padua. Hmm. We were not to be deterred and my husband sorted a hotel in Venice and a vaporetto to get us there. Costly, but worth it.
The floating world
We sped into Venice, James Bond style, the boat barely skimming the water as it jetted along. With the sun setting on the lagoon, the city looked especially ethereal, rising dimly out of the sea on fragile foundations.
It was indeed a floating world – both in the literal and metaphorical sense. Venice is held barely above the water and floods often. Even if one has never visited the city, it floats in our imaginations as a dreamscape of mystery and beauty.
Yet, it also matches the Japanese idea of ‘the floating world’. Originally, it was a Buddhist concept of life as difficult and transitory, yet the meaning was inverted during the Edo period to mean the passing pleasures of the hedonist: beautiful women and the entertainment wealth could purchase.
The city upon the sea Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
For those of us fortunate enough to be able to afford such travel, Venice is a pleasure ground of magnificent architecture and art; designer shopping and elegant concerts. For those working in Venice, it is perhaps a different story. Whilst the grandeur of its buildings boasts the success of the few, the narrow, dark and sometimes sinister back streets and the ripe smell of the canals come evening, suggests a different story. This dualism was encapsulated by a middle-aged man wheeling the excessive luggage of two Japanese tourists over a steep, stepped bridge. Loui Vuitton meets luggage trolley.
Because grand though it is, Venice is a city of stark contrasts and once you move away from the tourists in St Mark’s Square and into the back streets, the more obvious this becomes. However, these quieter parts were no less beautiful for their simplicity. Every so often, we would come across a barely populated piazza with a few trees and a central well. Washing hung on long lines from the balconies and perhaps a small dog would pass by on its walk.
Awe-inspiring though Venice is, it is still a city of commerce and glaringly demonstrated wealth. It was certainly worth a visit – but one will do.
Vicenza – architectural wonders
Our German friends, Sarah and Michael had driven to Padua to meet us, so we had the advantage of transport. Both my friends and I had been encouraged to visit the nearby town of Vicenza for its ancient architectural beauty and the famous Rotunda.
The town itself is an architect’s dream with wide streets and a large imposing piazza in the centre. It is also home to the first indoor theatre – Teatro Olimpico. Renaissance frescoes and vaulted covered walkways aside, it is a thriving, modern industrial centre. Tourists from abroad are few and I suspect that they like it that way. When we went for a coffee, the waiter spoke no English and my very limited Duolingo Italian finally felt worth the effort.
La Rotunda built in 1565 Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
The main draw of Vincenza is its buildings and it is the show case of the influential architect, Palladio. From his name is drawn Palladian – that symmetrical, open design which harks back to that of classical Rome and Greece. His style reached its height of popularity in the 18th century, two centuries after he designed the Rotunda, and is still relevant today.
Chioggia – The working man’s Venice
Taking advantage of the fine weather, our friends took us to Chioggia the following day. Like Venice, it is filled with canals and surrounded by the lagoon, but unlike Venice, it is quiet and unhurried. We arrived on a Monday, so many of the shops were closed and the cafes, bustling with locals from noon until two pm, suddenly emptied and closed. Dawdling as we were, we were fortunate to be given a table at 2.05! The kind waitress took pity on us and delayed the end of her shift until we were fed.
Chioggia is a port and fishing town with a small stretch of beach that attracts summer visitors. It is modest but pleasing with houses hugging the sides of canals and peaceful streets with flower-filled window boxes. My favourite place there was a tiny 14th century church. It was only one room and sparsely decorated, but it echoed with the prayers of centuries.
Padua – city of learning and pilgrimage
Our base was the magnificent city of Padua – home to the second oldest university in Italy and to innumerable awe inspiring churches including the Basilica di San Antonio.
It is a place of learning and is filled with young people who throng the streets going to lectures or perhaps taking an espresso and catching up with friends. When we were there, it was clearly graduation day and students, accompanied by proud parents and friends, wandered about wearing the laurel crown of the graduate.
The central piazza Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
Padua is famous for its medical department and its scientific roots go back centuries. Copernicus was a student and Galileo a professor! It served as a catalyst for Renaissance thinking.
With science and medicine having such a strong presence, it is no wonder that the study of the natural world and especially its healing properties was of utmost importance. To further the aim of educating students, they built an exquisite apothecary garden.
The botanical gardens are still flourishing today and are a source of scientific study. While the core of the garden houses medicinal plants, more exotic species have been added since. It provides a welcome retreat from a busy world.
The medical museum in Padua is a wonder also. I only wish that I could have been taught the sciences in such an entertaining and interesting way.
Much of our stay was spent mooching about the gorgeous streets and stopping for coffee. But we devoted a fair amount of time visiting the innumerable stunning churches in the city. All were impressive, but only a few attended by more than half a dozen congregants.
Even the most famous church, The Basilica di San Antonio, was only moderately busy – but unlike other ‘tourist destination’ churches, this was peopled by nuns, pilgrims and those who came to pray. It was exquisitely beautiful with high vaulted ceilings, domes, elegant frescoes, marble marquetry and stonework. It was designed to be awe-inspiring, and it was. I loved the domed ceilings in deep blue scattered with stars, the trompe l’oeil marble scene behind the tomb of Saint Antony, the courtyard gardens outside the main building.
When I gazed at the craftmanship, I though of the hours or even years required to achieve the effects. I thought of the craftsmen toiling day after day in service to something greater than themselves. I thought of the thousands of people who came here looking for solace or hope or acceptance and felt that I was part of a very long chain of humanity.
And I felt that time had come full circle. Pilgrimage was the first form of tourism. Holiday comes from holy day and our leisure and spiritual practice are strangely combined. Whilst fewer of us believe in any formal or traditional way now, it does not mean that we don’t gain from our journeys.
We can be uplifted by a mountain or an exquisite work of art; we can connect with those who came before us and left us such treasures; we can learn so much about ourselves and the world.
My Italian trip has cemented my desire to do more creatively – to do it seriously and with commitment. Travel can be transformative if we allow it to be.
Or it can just be light and fun. Seeing friends and breaking bread (or eating pizza together) is also great. However you find your dolce vita – enjoy.
Me, Lorenzo the waiter and Sarah at the best pizza place in town! Image: Michael Meier
Our journey home from Newcastle was trying to say the least. The six and a half hour drive stretched to ten as my poor husband negotiated road closure after road closure; jam after jam. By the time we reached home, it was 2.30 am and we were both exhausted.
That said, I am glad we went. My brother-in-law’s funeral was beautiful and the reception a wonderful opportunity to meet and console those we love. And the drive brought its own blessings.
Look to the skies
With little else to do, I spent most of the journey looking at the sky and it put on the most incredible display. Leaving Newcastle, it was Mediterranean blue with fluffy ivory clouds sculling across. It certainly provided a more pleasurable view than the car in front’s number plate.
Blue skies, nothing but blue skies Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
Such skies have a hypnotic quality and I’ll happily watch clouds form and reform for hours in a sort of meditative trance. They certainly help pass the time.
Symbols of hope
As we moved further south, sudden showers burst forth. The once clear blue was now splotched with deep purple grey patches and I thought it was the perfect combination for rainbows.
And I was right. A huge rainbow appeared to our left and then was soon accompanied by another, less defined one, arching over the first in parallel. I nudged Jeff to look (we weren’t going too fast!) and we both enjoyed the spectacle. Then I realised that the second rainbow’s colours were a mirror image of the first. This being only the second double rainbow that I’ve seen, I was fascinated. How was this possible? Was this normal?
Once home, I looked it up without success and asked those I knew. My sister, a master at Google, found the answer. It is normal, but no less miraculous for that. Here’s the science. https://youtu.be/nzgNM-P_JCQ?si=zlyDhlgicUpF5EC9 Don’t worry, the clip is only one minute long and entirely comprehensible to the least scientific among us.
And here’s the rainbow we saw in Maine:
Double rainbow! Image: Genevieve Costello-Spears
If you look closely, you’ll see that the darker colours are on the interior of the bands and the lighter colours on the exterior.
One to tick off on the bucket list
You would think that a double rainbow would be enough excitement for one day, but nature had yet another unusual occurrence for us to enjoy. As it grew dark, we noticed an eerie green mist-like light hovering above the horizon. How strange we mused – there are no cities causing reflected light and that green is most peculiar. I chuckled to myself that it was what the Northern Lights look like to the naked eye and dismissed it as improbable. Only when I returned home and read Mariia’s message to say look out for the Northern Lights, did I appreciate what I’d seen.
Aurora Borealis By Frederic Edwin Church courtesy of Wikipedia
Our Aurora was not the dancing light show, but the more common green haze. I’m not fussy – it was still amazing and has saved me a trip to Iceland!
And there’s more …
Whilst the sky had entertained us throughout our tedious journey, it had more to offer when we got home. The Harvest Moon (a super moon) was due just days and I was determined to enjoy it in its full glory.
We set off to the beach to watch as it rose from the sea and were given a glorious sunset as an appetiser. While we stood transfixed, Hermione paid no attention – she just played with her ball.
It was a warm evening and listening to the waves and watching the moon appear from a faint glow to a great ball of white gold was spectacular.
Harvest moon Image: Jeff Costello-McFeat
The harvest moon is so called because it allowed farmers to work late into the night to bring in their crops. It was also favoured by smugglers and ‘moon rakers’ in Wiltshire! As its rising follows the sunset at the right angle, it is often golden or even red before it moves higher in the sky.
There was also a partial eclipse in the early hours of the morning, but I had had enough excitement and needed my sleep.
Slow TV
We usually look for entertainment in digital media or organised events, hoping for ever more extreme and original fare. Yet, to me, the best entertainment is free and accessible to all. The skies are constantly changing, never repeating. Aligning our sights to them allows us the benefit of enjoying masterpieces, which even the greatest artists could not surpass.
The skies also have the benefit of making us realise how small we are in the great scheme of things, which is not to say that we are diminished, but rather find our rightful place. When we watch the skies with awe and wonder, we are both humbled and grateful and our spirits are raised.
There is no post again next week, as we are going to enjoy the wonders of Italy. I hope to share some manmade marvels with you next time. Ciao!
From a very early age, I have been in love with the natural world. Perhaps my mother sparked this, placing me in my pram, swaddled in blankets, under a tree in the garden.
Whatever the impetus, the outside is where I’ve always wanted to be. By today’s standards, my childhood was somewhat wild and I roamed the parks and woods with friends much younger than most kids would now. But where some children have street smarts, I had nature smarts. I never came to any harm despite my wanderings and loved the freedom I had been granted.
Trees and water – the perfect combination Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
Childhood wisdom
I knew from shared folk knowledge what I could eat and what I couldn’t; when a tree was too high to climb; water unsafe to swim in. The seasons, not the calendar, marked my days: the arrival of froglets in spring, berries in summer and beechnuts in fall. Winter cold never bothered me and it was irksome to wear a coat. It was even more irksome to have to sit inside on rainy days.
Because for a child, the natural world holds a cornucopia of treasures. Unlike the longed for toy discarded by New Year’s, it offered an ever changing selection.
That love and fascination has never left me. If anything, it has grown over the years, with an attempt to learn more about the environment and ecology. When all the human world fails me, it is to nature that I turn for solace. And it is nature that is helping me heal.
Nature’s healing
I spend a great deal of time outside, with Hermione – sometimes in the garden and sometimes in the shed. It is my outside office: perfect for journaling and dreaming.
With stress contributing to all illnesses, it is essential that we have a place where we can shed the coils of worry that ensnare us. For me, it is my garden or the sea where worries seem, quite literally, to be blown away.
With so much anxiety over loved ones who are suffering at the moment, it is easy to fall into despair. Life, after all, is undeniably cruel. On Tuesday, feeling low myself with infections brought on my stress, I took to my shed to write my morning pages.
This extract, somewhat polished, is what I wrote:
This is happiness
Out the window, above the Tibetan flags of washing, the Downs embrace the town. Higher still, clouds lined in grey silk amble across the skies. As they pass onwards, they pull the shadow from the hills, revealing the bright green, inch by inch, like a strip-tease.
It is neither warm nor cold. Summer and autumn are battling for dominance. Summer brings warm temperatures and autumn, a chill breeze.
The garden has lost her deep green hue and has the look of one exhausted by fecundity. Curling leaves are scattered across the lawn.
I am not well today, yet cannot feel sad or self-pitying. Look! The sun has turned the Japanese anemones the white of a Geisha’s painted face; a butterfly is zigzagging across the grass in search of nectar; Hermione’s warm body rests on my foot …
Observation studies
Observing intently and writing soon become a form of meditation and prayer. Faced with the complex marvels of nature, we are strengthened in our understanding of life’s circularity and that each moment is unique. It helps to anchor us in the now.
The butterfly – symbol of hope Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
We may choose to take our observations further – to create art, or initiate learning. These too uplift us.
Just before I began this, I read the latest Red Hand Files post by Nick Cave and he wrote:
Joy is not always a feeling that is freely bestowed upon us, often it is something we must actively seek. In a way, joy is a decision, an action, even a practised way of being.
Nice Cave, Red Hand Files 299
Everything he says is brilliant, but what struck me most forcefully is the line ‘joy is a decision, an action, even a practised way of being’. And he is right. We must choose joy despite knowing that life will not always provide it. We must live with the intention of finding joy and bringing it to others and that will require a certain amount of sustained action: ‘practised way of being.’
For me, the natural world and its meditative observation is my practice. The more I commit to my practice, the better I feel. And joy is an emotion that we wish to share, that makes us look beyond ourselves and saves us from the solipsism of depression.
In these difficult times, I hope you find your path to joy.
Please note that there will be no post next week, as I shall be attending my brother-in-law’s funeral.
When my husband inadvertently booked the Waverley Hotel instead of the Westerlea Hotel (easily done), it put an end to our plans for a Highland summer break. No matter. We already live in a holiday resort, so a week in Eastbourne seemed a very good alternative.
I’m so glad we stayed. The week before had its challenges and being home and able to organise things from here was a real bonus. My dear brother-in-law died after a prolonged and debilitating illness and Mariia got called for a stint as an army interpreter. It was also my husband’s birthday.
To celebrate Mariia’s success, we took her to an excellent Turkish restaurant and Saturday we tried to get her organised. Her kit list was extensive and with only a few days’ notice, tricky to complete. But we did it.
Stepping back in time
Sunday was Jeff’s birthday. He loves jousting and had booked tickets to a nearby Medieval Fair. I confess, I had not shown the greatest enthusiasm, but the event itself was enchanting.
A large private park had been transformed into a Medieval village complete with stalls, music and theatre. Just people watching would have kept me entertained, but plenty was put on to engage us: harp playing (delightful), hilarious theatre groups, music and, of course, the joust.
Though set on horseback, it more closely resembled a corny wrestling match with outlandish characters and bad acting. The horsemanship, however, was superb, and I’m pleased to say that the lady riders stole the show.
The weather was kind and my trusty scooter only had to be occasionally hefted from the mud left from earlier down-pours.
Farewells
Monday came all too quickly and we said farewell to Mariia – a little anxious and very proud. Her job would be challenging and in difficult conditions, but we had faith in her capabilities.
The week was ours and for the first few days, we were glad to decompress – process the sad news and start on arrangements.
A pootle around the town, coffee on the sidewalk and the garden was everything we needed. Well, almost. We couldn’t survive without the beach.
The day-trippers gone, it was our turn to enjoy the serenity of the evening views.
Cabbage whites and sea kale
The following morning was market day at a nearby village. I haven’t been for ages and wanted to say hi to our friendly greengrocer and pick up supplies. It was bustling with locals and visitors alike and closely resembled a set from Midsommer Murders – without the murders.
A mile further on is Birling Gap and for once, it was not besieged by tourists. Living by the sea, one becomes a little possessive of it and, though I love the bustle and liveliness of visitors, it can be a little overwhelming at times.
A quiet spot Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
Tucked behind the cafe is a tranquil garden that few seem to have noticed. There are deckchairs, a mini labyrinth set in the pebbles and an abundance of wildlife. Sipping my coffee, I enjoyed the company of the cabbage white butterflies visiting the sea kale and watching the sky shift from dark denim at its centre to cornflower blue. The flower beds are stocked with wild flowers: teasels, cow parsley and brambles -perfect for avian and insect visitors. We did see the sea as well – far out across the treacherous spine of rockpools – and the iconic Seven Sisters luminous in the bright sunlight.
Later in the day, we couldn’t resist a sea swim and the joy of emerging from the chill waters to warm air.
Hammocks and Hermione
By Thursday, all the excitement had caught up with me and reading in the hammock, snoozing and throwing the ball to Hermione was about all I could do.
Hermione, of course, is in her element with not one, but two people in attendance. My right arm is definitely increasing in strength with all the ball throwing. Who needs a gym when you can have a Cocker Spaniel?
Not quite the end
This morning was officially the last day of the holiday and reluctant to miss a moment, we went early to the beach cafe for breakfast. At nine am, there were few tables left.
Jeff waiting for breakfast; Hermione searching for scraps! Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
Deliciously replete, we walked to the sea and went for a paddle. The day was so bright and clear that the sunlight sparkled and leapt from the water like a cascade of inverted falling stars.
Jeff had returned to paddle board whilst I wrote this. I suspect he is half man and half merman.
The sky has clouded over a little now, but it is still delightfully warm. My darling niece will visit later and the weekend stretches ahead without plans.
Enjoying such exceptional weather has definitely been a blessing for our vacation. That said, we would have had no difficulty filling our days even in the worst conditions. Distracted by the sea and sunshine, there is a great deal that we didn’t do. I think next year, our staycation will have to be longer.
MS may have taken away a great deal, but in return it has given much, namely: the opportunity to fulfil my creative desires. Since childhood, I have loved art and making things. Add that to observing and enjoying nature and it equals bliss.
Perhaps you don’t feel that you have time for such self-indulgence. Perhaps, but there are ways of solving even that, which I’ll address in a later post. But suffice to say, that if you do want to create – do. The benefits it brings far outweigh any losses and I guarantee that you will be happier (and I believe healthier) for it.
Putting pen to paper
Everyone expresses their creativity in different ways, but my outlets are essentially writing, art and cooking.
Every morning, I write my morning pages: noting dreams, events of the previous day, musings. It is a form of meditation that requires no skill, only a pen and paper. I like to go outside, because the natural world always seems to stimulate me creatively whilst filling me with joy. If the weather is inclement, I have my shed.
The earlier I am able to do this, the better. Getting out before the rest of the world ensures peace and quiet.
Morning pages in the morning sun Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
It is a discipline. I don’t always feel like it and thought I didn’t have time, but once I’d made the commitment to write every day, I did. Curiously, life is easier this way. Each morning, pages need to be filled. Time can be found; topics explored.
The same applies to this blog. Initially, I worried that finding a new subject and writing 1,000 words per week would be too much, but somehow, several years on, I’ve managed it. Like everyone, I prevaricate a bit (I’ve just done my DuoLingo practice instead of writing) but ultimately, I get my bottom on the chair and write.
So many of us wait for inspiration, but inspiration comes from doing. The more you do, the easier it becomes and the more you want to do. Trust me!
A student of fine art
For many years now, I have been visiting my wonderful friend and art teacher Mary. At 86, she knows pretty much everything there is to know, and she is expert at sharing her knowledge. But I only see her once a week and I needed a prompt to do more art. I began with a light-hearted 15 minutes a day drawing book.
I finished the book and was ready for more. The habit of daily drawing was established and I wanted to test myself further. On a visit to the library, I noticed some excellent art books for sale in their little shop. I bought them and worked through those also. Here was excellent advice and a chance to copy how it’s done – which is itself a great way to look and learn.
Learning through copying Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
Art is so much more than simply drawing. It requires observation skills, accuracy, good fine motor skills and maths. Learning 3D perspective almost made my head explode, but Mary guided me through. My High School geometry enabled me to copy a fabulous folding flower. Maths finally had a purpose.
Getting crafty
Crafts – since they are associated with women’s work – are unfairly delegated below the fine arts. Yet, they require every bit as much skill. They are also (as women generally are) rather more practical!
My indoor happy place Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
When we moved here, I fulfilled the dream of my own craft room. I made the curtains and decorated in bold colours. Your own space is vital. Even if you can only commandeer a corner of a room – do so and make it yours.
Almost every day, I mount the stairs to do a project. It may be as small as an envelope or as big as a quilt, but if I don’t do something, I get cranky. And the more I do, the more confidence I gain and the more I want to do.
Below is a little notebook I made for calligraphy and the basis of a book vase made from an old paperback. I’m itching to get more done, but I need to finish this first!
The aesthetics of cookery
Cookery opens up a whole new area of creativity from the breath-taking cake creations of my friend, Penny, to the exquisite presentations of Mariia’s meals.
We can use our creativity to imagine new ways of using ingredients. I’ve made apple and blackberry vinegar; Jeff is making mulberry vodka.
And craft and cooking can marry, as below. Having deconstructed my husband’s old shirts for their fabric, I cut circles for jam tops and finished with vibrant rickrack.
Jam dressed to impress! Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
Re-fuelling
It is impossible to be original all the time and the most successful artists invariably draw inspiration from others. Klimt was clearly influenced by the Impressionists and the Scottish Arts and Crafts movement – but it doesn’t make his work any less impressive.
We mere mortals need all the help we can get. I frequently buy reference books from the library shop, watch YouTube videos, buy art books and go to galleries. Sometimes these act as a catalyst for my own work; sometimes I just admire theirs, but we cannot hope to be creative without ‘refuelling’ every so often.
Benefits of a creative life
Though I doubt that many of us choose a creative life for its benefits, they are extensive.
Total concentration on a project from knitting to composing a song pushes out the thoughts that threaten to unbalance us. For those who struggle with meditation, this is your alternative.
Keeping our minds active and challenged is key to staving off the nightmare of memory loss and dementia. Using our hands or bodies in a way that strengthens them, helps keep us supple even as we age.
Our mental health is also likely to benefit, as a mind fizzing with ideas and creative challenges is unlikely to slump into a stupor of despair. As we hone our observation skills too, we are likely to be increasingly aware of the beauty surrounding us and grateful for it. And if there is a key to happiness, it is gratitude.
We will sometimes fail, or make a mess or have to throw it away. Things will seldom turn out perfectly. Accepting this strengthens our ability to cope when life itself doesn’t work out as planned either. Mary’s favourite artists are potters, because they are reminded every day how little control we really have and simply accept it. (Of all crafts, ceramics is the most nerve racking – pots collapse; objects in the kiln explode or crack; glazes bubble and craze).
And if disaster strikes? It is an opportunity for learning, or perhaps takes us in a new direction. No matter. We enjoy the process and the outcome is a bonus.
Be careful what you wish for. Indeed. But one only realises this truism retrospectively. In early spring, I’d admire the blossoms on the trees and wish for a good harvest. Dreamily, I’d imagine making jams and pies and crumbles – all the ways I could enjoy and preserve my fruits.
The promise of things to come Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
Wandering about the garden, complimenting the trees on their constellations of blossoms; stroking their leaves to show them that I care; I hadn’t quite thought through the consequences of my actions. Yes, like King Charles, I do talk to my trees and perhaps I communicated my desires a little too well this year. Because, this year, to counter the absolute failure of my vegetable crops, my fruit trees have outdone themselves.
A sweet start
The first fruits to appear were the berries: raspberry, mulberry, blackcurrant and redcurrant. Each morning, I’d toddle down the garden to pick what had appeared – some going into the bowl with my cereal and some directly to the freezer.
Mini mulberries Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
Next up were my sweet plums – early and delicious. I’d serve them instead of biscuits and give them away to anyone who wanted them. So far, so good. I had plenty to freeze and plenty to share. Everything was under control.
Then the freezer began to fill and more and more fruits ripened. Some, like the greengages and alpine strawberries were consumed immediately after picking, but the rest, well, no-one could eat that many.
Apples, apples every where
My fabulous old apple tree clearly liked the wet spring and warm summer, because it has excelled all expectations. Every day I pick the windfalls, and every day there are more.
Apples and plums Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
My miniature Russet apples were ripe, so they have been picked and stored in the fruit bowl. Extra apples have been set aside to give to friends. This afternoon, I’ll need to make some apple puree – a perfect baking supplement for those who don’t use eggs. By putting the puree in two tablespoon amounts in small plastic bags and freezing, I shall have enough egg replacements to last the year!
Waste not, want not
As anyone who has read my blog will know, I hate waste. My gorgeous daughter-in-law, Genevieve, gave me the perfect recipe book: PlantYou: Scrappy Cooking. In it, the author shows you how to use up all the scraps that otherwise might make kitchen waste. I was fascinated.
When preparing apples, there are equal quantities of cores and skin as flesh. Even these can be used and only then, the left-overs thrown into the compost. Okay, it is a bit fiddly and time consuming, but I love a challenge and the opportunity to use up everything.
Take these – and make these –
My apple cider vinegar is happily burbling away on the window sill and the apple scrap ‘honey’ is in the fridge. The ‘honey’ is perfect for porridge and yogurt and delicious on toast. It will keep in the fridge for a month, though I suspect it will keep a bit longer than that. And if you don’t want to do it straight away, store a large freezer bag full of scraps in the freezer and make on a rainy afternoon. (Sadly, I made mine on a boiling hot day making myself and the kitchen, very hot indeed. The fridge objected and promptly konked out. Luckily for me, my husband guessed what was wrong and both the fridge and myself cooled down and went back into operation!)
Food for free
Perhaps it is my Celtic ancestry or perhaps it is my innate love of foraging, but there few things that give me more joy than finding food for free. Mariia is clearly similarly inclined. When we came back from the West Country proudly bearing our full punnet of blackberries, she produced the 1.5 kilos that she had picked with Hermione!
But one can never have enough berries and the season is too short to tarry. Our local park has a magnificent and very old mulberry tree. As a consequence, it has the biggest, fattest mulberries around. Determined to get a little bit of its bounty, we all set off one warm summer evening. We returned with another 1.5 kg.
Putting my mini-mulberries to shame Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
Unfortunately, many park visitors are not aware that they are edible (though I tell everyone that passes) or perhaps they know and don’t want stained clothing. Nothing is entirely free. The price tag for blackberries is scratches; mulberries, purple blooms on stained hands and tops.
Swap
And if you have more than enough of one thing, then barter is the way to go. My book group buddy Lesley was leaving town for a few days, but her plums were ready to pick. In a wonderfully sociable way, she invited us round to harvest them and have a cup of tea.
I brought a basket of apples, and Viv brought some delicious tomatoes fresh from her allotment. Everyone left happy! I made more jam and of course, had to check that it was okay. It was a sacrifice I was prepared to make.
Share
For me, the most wonderful part of having a good harvest is that I can share it. Anyone who comes to the door is likely to leave with a bag of something. And I can make jams and honeys and vinegars to give as tiny gifts too. My great friend Liz, whose apple harvest is even greater than my own, has her apples pressed and gives bottles of her truly delicious juice away. When I took the children to primary school, an elderly chap would leave a wheelbarrow filled with apples outside his house on the route, and many an apple crumble was made from his generosity.
When we have plenty, it makes sense to share it. In fact, the only thing I have had a shortage of is jam jars. I sent a plea to all my friends and now, I hope, I have enough. (And some will be returned filled!)
How do you like your fruit?
This year’s abundance is causing me to think hard about how to utilise and store it successfully. I’ve made crumbles, jams, vinegars and ‘honey’. I’d like to try making pickled blackberries and to attempt drying mulberries. My freezer is full, so I’ll need to think more laterally. I could make apple strings for dried apples, apple butter and if I get more adventurous still, fruit powders.
Nature marches on and there is no time to waste. There are still pears and quinces to harvest, so it will be late autumn when I can put my preserving tools away.
Sometimes, I wonder why I bother. After all, the supermarket stocks everything I need. But where, I ask you, is the fun in that?
Some weeks ago, my dear friend Sally commented on a blog that that we should visit her. First, I checked that she wasn’t just being polite and then set a date. They live near the Forest of Dean, so it would be more than a coffee klatch. However, we haven’t seen them for a year and they are the best company.
The day fixed in the diary, we organised the dog, checked Mariia had plenty to eat in the fridge, and planned the route.
Making the intolerable, tolerable
Setting off on Friday, we knew that we would encounter traffic, but it would give us a full weekend with our friends. Living in the South East is great, until you try to get out of it. Much of the drive would be snailing along clogged motorway. But we had each other for company and long journeys are a perfect opportunity to talk properly. How often, after all, do you get a clear five or six hours to converse?
We broke the drive in the delightful town of Marlow, which sits alongside the Thames. Arriving in golden summer sunshine, it looked like an advert from the British Tourist Board: rowing boats moored at the riverside; a delicate iron suspension bridge and bunting on the High Street.
Image: Snapper Five at English Wikipedia
It is frightfully posh, boasting not one but two Michelin starred restaurants and a list of celebrity residents that is too long to repeat, though I was sorry to miss seeing the Shelley’s house where Mary composed much of Frankenstein.
Keeping with the spirit of the place, we stopped at The Ivy for lunch (which was surprisingly reasonable!) Our meals were a delight and the decor enchanting. We would have tarried longer, but we still had a long drive ahead.
Far from the madding crowd
Once we cleared Oxford, we could enjoy the magnificent countryside and quiet roads. The closer we got to our destination, the prettier it all became; passing houses of Cotswold Stone and tiny thatched cottages. This is the England I love.
Arriving in early evening, we had time for a mug of tea and delicious flapjacks fresh from the Aga. Dinner was relaxed and scrumptious (thank you Derek) and eaten around their huge kitchen table.
The Lomaxes are the perfect hosts – providing everything you need while chatting away and making their guests feel relaxed and comfortable. They also seem to have far more energy than the average human being. As if having guests were not enough, their grandchildren were staying the night.
So while Sally and I read stories (which was a real treat for me), Jeff and Derek went out blackberrying. And after that, it was time to sit and chat and relax until we couldn’t stay awake any longer.
The forest and the river
When we were finally able to drag ourselves away from our breakfast smorgasbord, we set off to the Forest of Dean with a couple of additional family members.
Jeff had invested in some very high tech wheelchair wheels in the hope that I could travel off-road, but sadly, the forest defeated them and I used my chair as a kind of zimmer instead.
The Forest of Dean Sculpture Trail is magnificent with over eighteen forest inspired sculptures over a challenging 4.8 trail. Of course, I’d love to do all of it, but for now I was happy to get a taste of it at the most accessible part. If it is something you might enjoy, here’s the website: https://www.forestryengland.uk/beechenhurst/arts-the-forest-dean-sculpture-trail-beechenhurst
Some sculptures, like the one above, were easy to spot; some like the poem written into stone were rather easier to miss.
Of course, the forest itself had much to offer from a canopy of ancient oaks to the undergrowth of luminous green ferns. Daphne the dog enjoyed her adventure and little Isla-May was engrossed by the flowers and the pearlescent ink blue beetles.
If only we could retain our wonder at the natural world!
Ross-on-Wye
Close to our friend’s house is the historic town of Ross-On-Wye. The whole area is an outdoor enthusiast’s playground with epic mountain bike trails and water sports. Ross-on-Wye offers life at a gentler pace with its meandering river and pretty park borders.
Here you could while away an afternoon in a canoe or picnic on the banks, or as we did, go to a riverside pub to enjoy a delicious dinner.
We took our friends as a small thank you for their hospitality. It was also their anniversary and with five grown children and four grandchildren, they seldom get the chance to indulge themselves. We were very happy to give them the excuse to go out for dinner.
Friends for a lifetime
I have the great privilege of having many friends whom I have known for decades and Sally and Derek are no exception. We met through the NCT (National Childbirth Trust) coffee mornings and have kept in touch ever since. I suspect that there is a benefit to making friends when you haven’t slept for weeks, look like you’ve grabbed any item of clothing that is clean to wear (which you did) and by the time you meet is covered in baby vomit. If someone will accept you as a friend then, things can only get better.
It was wonderful to see the babies grow and have their own children, though we hardly felt enough time had passed for that.
We spent our final evening discussing books we’ve loved, swapping recipes and tips and catching up on wider family.
Sunday was employed exploring the village (Jeff and I) and barbecuing vegetables and preparing salads for lunch. We had a feast.
Home again
We returned home to an excited dog and an angelic Mariia, who had made a delicious dinner and picked 1.5 kg of blackberries. (Our efforts seemed rather paltry in comparison!) Normality resumed.
But our heads are filled with wonderful memories and our phones with photos. I only hope that Sally and Derek can get away to visit us soon; I don’t want to have to wait another year!
Monday is my crafts morning, and this Monday, I was delighted that everyone could attend. There was only one problem. Playing hostess, chatting and doing craft can be one multi-task too far. I’d have to think of an activity that I could do without requiring too much concentration.
With multiple birthdays coming up, I decided on card making using stamps. Rather than worrying about how I would apply them, I simply stamped away, chatting with my friends and pouring coffee.
By the end of the morning, I had covered several sheets and had the quiet and leisure to think how to use them.
Card creations
The stamps I’d used were a mixture of commercial and homemade stamps (I’ll show you how to make your own further on). And though you could just place a stamp on a card and mount it, I preferred to do my own thing.
My son is an engineer and constantly flying, so the airmail one was perfect for him. My niece loves nature, so what better than flowers and bees?
Personal cards Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
The options when using stamps are endless. Here I used a sheet of stamps (right) and made a cut-out, which I coloured, to give extra interest. Using sticky squares can give an engaging 3D quality.
On the left, I made a washi tape border and ‘planted’ my flowers above, cutting them out and mounting them, and a bee, on a sticky square.
In both, I used a black ink pad, on coloured paper. Black gives the best definition, but colour is always an option.
One thing leads to another
Delighted with my cards, I was not yet ready to give up playing with stamps. What else could I do?
Sorting through my fairly large collection, I found some beautiful ones for book plates. With so many bookish friends, they would make perfect little gifts.
Ideally, book plates are easy to use, so I found some Oxfam envelope address labels and stamped on them. Just lick the back and apply. It is not essential to use an adhesive back; however, if you don’t, just remind the recipient they will need glue!
Here I used two ink pads, one blue and one pink. Either looks lovely on their own, but by rolling half the stamp on one and half on the other, you get a gorgeous ombre effect. I had some pretty square envelopes that I’d prepared earlier (how very Blue Perterish of me) and there you have it – a perfect, personal gift.
On a roll, I also decided to make some stickers out of some very old sticky labels I’d found. Envelopes can often do with a little help to adhere properly, so I add stickers. Here are my Christmas ones and some with my initial.
Enough to keep me going for a while! Image: Karen Costell0-McFeat
Bespoke stamps
My darling friend Jenny, once treated me to a lino-cut workshop and I have enjoyed making lino cuts ever since. The initial costs are fairly low and you can make more stamps than you could ever use!
What you need are the following:
Soft lino cut sheets
Lino cutter tools
Ink pads or paints (Acrylics work best with an acrylic print medium)
A roller for larger images
A protective mat
A small piece of soft fabric to place under your paper to make the definition as precise as possible. (Penny pointed this out to me at craft club and she was right.) There I used Jenny’s padded glasses case but a remnant of thick felt or batting is perfect.
Knowing I would need to work fairly quickly to prepare something for this week’s blog, I set about making a very simple, very small design.
Little hearts can be added to just about everything, so I cut a small piece of lino, drew a heart and began.
For more detailed images, draw on paper and transfer with tracing paper. You can download and print a black and white image and use that as your template, but remember everything on your stamp will be reversed!
Lino tools are sharp, so always cut away from yourself. When you are happy, apply a firm back. I had the perfect combination of foam and hard board. Use a glue gun or strong glue to attach.
And when you are finished creating, clean the lino with a damp cloth or baby wipe and dry completely before storing.
Et voila!
And here are my tiny stamps. I like the effect of the grooves marked in the lino, but if I wanted a heart without those, I’d just need to keep cutting until only the heart itself was raised.
With a stamp that should only be uses in one direction, it is worth drawing an arrow on the back.
Of course, the image is not perfect, but for me that is part of the charm. And if you’re wondering what the dots are, they are made with the small rubber at the end of a pencil.
Because stamps are everywhere
Though more elaborate stamps need to be created or purchased, simple forms can be made with the most ordinary of objects. A new eraser can be used as is or with a simple design, ditto potatoes and other root vegetables. String glued to a hard board makes beautiful swirls and many organic items are perfect: feathers, seed tops, leaves and twigs can all be part of your stamp collection.
Naturally beautiful Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
Jenny used a leaf with paint to make this gorgeous design and then embellished it with tiny bees and flowers. Because your prints can just be the starting point for your art. And if it isn’t how you like it? Well, scrunch it up and start again. Your print will work over and over.
A practical craft
What I love about stamps is that they have all sorts of practical applications. They can adorn plain wrapping paper, cards and stationery. They can be used with acrylic paints to decorate fabrics and when you’re really good, can be their own masterpieces.
Best of all, everyone can do it. A little care and a little patience are all that are required to make something personal and precious. And in a mass produced world, that is surely not a bad thing.
Yesterday, I finally received the news that my dear friend was out of danger and embarking on the long road to recovery. My brain, which up until that moment had been a flurry of worry, was able to empty itself of chaos. Unfortunately, it jettisoned everything else too.
I floated through the day until I reached bedtime and realised the hours I’d set aside to prepare today’s writing were gone and worse, I had no idea at all what to compose. Turning to my husband, I asked what I should do. ‘Write about writer’s block,’ he said and I thought, yes, I can do that.
It wasn’t until graduate school that I learned about composition and that it was more a craft than the romantic notion of inspiration set down on paper. There were ways to create creativity. There were games you could play; tasks you could set yourself that would make composition easier.
I sincerely wish I had learned this earlier, but I kept reading and acquiring this advice and passed it on to my own students.
Facing the blank page
I’m sure that we all remember the dread of facing a blank page days or hours before an essay or report was due. Most of us will find all sorts of jobs that need doing: sorting paperclips, making more coffee or tidying the bookshelves. Anything, anything is better than facing the wall of white that needs filling. This is as true for professional writers and artists as it is for the rest of us.
Facing the blank page Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
But the professionals will find strategies to get them started. They are myriad, so I will only mention a couple that work for me here (and which I have employed to write this).
Be reassured: everyone finds creating hard at some time or other. (Occasionally, the gods smile on us and give us inspiration, but it is a gift to be enjoyed, not relied upon.)
So, how do we start?
Finding a way in
Most of us work best in a visual format, which is partly why writing is so hard. A great idea is to harness our visual skills with our writing ones. My preferred method is the spider plan, though you may prefer clouds or mapping.
Spider plans (add googly eyes if you wish) aid both with creative thinking and structure.
A spider has eight legs and often searching for ideas to fit those final one or two, prompts us to think of something a little more unusual. (Baby spiders drawn from one of the topics takes us deeper still). You can add more or less, but eight fully developed paragraphs is sufficient for most writing tasks.
A spider diagram Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
My topic was the blank page and I just jotted down all my thoughts on that. Going clockwise, it works as a plan.
A blog requires images too, so I made those. I also put in the headings that I intended to use. The worst part was over – the post page was beginning to fill.
Getting into the habit
Few of us write much any more. We email, we text, we call. We seldom write structured letters or longer pieces, so when we do have to write, it is strange and hard.
Getting pen to paper Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
Writing, like anything else, improves with practice and, as someone who was chronically afraid of writing, I have found the practice of it the thing that makes it now a pleasure. Each day, I try to keep my journal up to date. No-one but me will read it, so if it is gobbledygook, who cares? Occasionally, I might write something good. If nothing else, I have a record of my time on the planet.
Writing daily, whether it be in a journal or a more expansive email to a friend, allows us to keep our writing muscles strong. We are using and thinking about words and how they impact others. We listen for rhythms, for awkward phrasing and repetitions. We try to make our meaning clear and hopefully a little entertaining. We are considering our audience.
What holds true for writing is equally true for art. Artists too struggle to begin. They too must practise daily. Art students keep an art journal for their teachers; professionals create their own prompts.
The Internet is positively awash with art challenges. Perhaps you are asked to work in a particular medium every day or only use one colour or respond to a visual or verbal prompt. They are all ways in and an opportunity to be part of a community.
Or you can start with something random and just make a mark. I love curved lines, so that is what I began with. Then I added some simple branches – is it a leaf or a feather?
Start to play
And once those initial lines are in, I’m hooked. What if I added lots of colour in stripes? What if I added coloured patterns instead? In a few minutes, I’ve initiated my curiosity and more importantly, the desire to continue.
Since my blog was needing to be written, I had to stop there. But if I have time later today, I might work on them further. And even though they are just playful doodles, they are illustrating how colour works together, how certain patterns sing. When you create something, you inevitably learn something too.
There is no muse, just you
Unfortunately, the mythical muses are just that – a seductive fairy tale which fools us into thinking creativity is more magic than graft. Yes, sometimes we may feel like inspiration has come from the divine, but dig a little deeper and you will find your mind has been searching and planning all along. There are no short-cuts.
There is only our willingness to try and fail and try again. What prevents most of us from fulfilling our creative potential is not laziness or lack of talent but the sheer terror of laying our souls on the page/canvass/fabric and being found wanting.
And yes, it is terrifying. Every week, I fear that I will lose all my readers, that they will yawn and leave after the first paragraph or not read my post at all. Creativity involves a huge amount of risk. Yet risk is what gives us the thrill when we occasionally get it right.
Ironically, the only thing that can help us get over our fear and improve our offerings is to keep honing our words and sharing our vision.
What would you like to create? Now is the best time to start.
