My bowl of cornflakes.....

I was hungry, so I got myself out of bed to have a bowl of cornflakes and to have a chat with you at the same time. It is the middle of the night.

Do I, or do I not, get involved again with the little choir I conducted before Christmas, as I find myself getting tangled up with the making of music with them once more. And why is it that I have this drive to organize the choir folk so that they can get the best out of themselves, which they definitely did on the last concert just before Christmas. I was so proud of them. They shone, which sent a lot of light and happiness into the maison de retraite residents.

Anyway, the little group has got together again. I spent a bunch of hours yesterday searching for the relevant music on the web, then downloading it and re-writing what needs correcting. It is mostly French Pyrenees folk music, some of which sends shivers down my spine. I find it very seductive. I think it must be a past life connection I have to this area because I have a love of the Basque music.

But aren't I supposed to be getting myself sorted out with the art of podcasting, which seems to be taking an age. Such a lot to think about.

And then there is the general housewife stuff........ looking after the two of us takes up quite a chunk of head space, as does listening to the woes of my partner as he grapples with the complicated world of the virtual office. Bless him, he works hard for us.

The farm, that also needs some attention. The winter has not been cold enough to make the wild plants go to sleep, instead they doze, waking up frequently to put on another growth spurt. The brambles in particular are starting to romp away. If not cut down they will soon own the farm.
And then there is the chicken hut, which has started to have a worrying lean to its original upward stance. There are mounds around its feet, which might be either rat or mole tunnels. It is possible that the feet of the chicken hut are sliding into this newly made space in the earth.

Then there is me, and the need to give some time to my crafts, music, and everything else I do to keep in balance. I am out of balance at the moment, which is why I am awake at three o'clock in the morning writing to you. Oh dear!

Not to worry, life is good, and everything is as it should be. The owl that zig-zagged from side to side in front of the car I was a passenger in the other day said this was so. It was dusk. I had been to a choir meeting and was being taken home by a kind friend. The owl came then. It flew at shoulder height alongside the car, then flew from side to side in front of the car. For some distance it did this. The other passengers didn't take much notice, but I did, for whenever an owl comes into my space in an unexpected way, then I know that things are on the change for me, and that everything will be alright. They are one of the signposts that the Universe sends me to let me know that all is well.

But.....I have wandered off the point.....do I continue with the choir, or do I gently release myself from their project and focus on what I already need to do? Not sure. So perhaps to put the choir project  out of my mind for a day or two and see where my thoughts travel.

Meanwhile, I am back to Project Podcast. I am getting along with it, but slowly. I have had a few goes at speaking to front of camera, and am training myself not to use a silly voice, a voice which sometimes comes forth to overcome shyness. Looking at myself on screen, I am surprised that I do not look as I think I look. I have watched many podcasts within my genre, but prefer the presenters who do not posh themselves up with coiffured hairdo and painted faces. Therefore I shall be as nature intended, but dressed of course! And here again, I see that I look plumply round in body shape, larger than I thought I was, but I wouldn't be able to give someone the hug they badly needed if  I was stick thin. One must have a cushiony bosom to be able to hug someone properly, and that I have in abundance.

Crikey, it is now four o'clock in the morning, so I really ought to go to bed. I always write better during the hours of night. No distractions I suppose.

The cornflakes are now being recycled in my tummy, and I am starting to get a little chilled so off I must go to get warmed up again in bed.

Oh, must just say that one of the cows got out of their pen and decapitated the rest of the green vegetables which were growing in the raised beds in the courtyard, the same vegetables which were munched on when the sheep did a raid a while ago. The vegetables are now stumps of stalk so non retrievable. Not to worry. I shall continue on with the 'growing our own' project, which, to be quite honest, is definitely not happening at the moment, but is not absolutely dead despite the raids on the raised beds by cows, sheep, magpies, blackbirds, rats, mice, and everything else which is hungry.

And......we have two lambs born.

 ....bye for now, and thanks for keeping me company.

Vx