A haiku for everyday: the December volume

1 Dec
Wave your arms about.
Get out of your comfort zone,
In order to grow
2 Dec
Hands high, cross one leg,
Then the other in fronter,
Hands lower, and twist.
3 Dec
Can't move until Jan.
But they can fix the oven.
Well, what can I do?
4 Dec
It hits me now though.
No Hogmanay in my house.
Acknowledge sadness.
5 Dec
Run to get the train -
Then at New Street - no trains! What?!
Alright, the bus then.
6 Dec
Where is the valley?
Left or right? Neither head south.
Ha! Still find our way.
7 Dec
Hello Vietnam lunch.
Bright summer rolls. Pork and rice.
Abi's leftovers.
8 Dec
Sparkling twinkling frost.
Tiny sideways, slip slip skid.
Still stride to the train.
9 Dec
Is what I want a
hippo for Christmas? But what
About the donkey?
10 Dec
9am lecture.
I am not going to be late.
There - 8.10, I'm here.
11 Dec
Look! There's a pink cloud
Floating in the sky above.
It is beautiful.
12 Dec
So many handshakes
"Well done", "Pleased to meet you", "Thanks".
I hope they are clean.
13 Dec
Pie, gammon, parsnips,
Seasoned Brussels sprouts, carrots
but no salmon, Nick?
14 Dec
Second violin.
First concert. It's Christmas Praise
with CCoC.
15 Dec
Sky, a light grey blue.
Glad I'm not wearing my glasses.
Mizzle hits my face.
16 Dec
2025.
The year of buying a house -
Almost! More patience!
17 Dec
List of jobs to do.
List of what I need to pack.
List of things to get.
18 Dec
The toad swims breaststroke
Taking up the space, slowly.
In the fast lane!
19 Dec
50 sit ups then
40, followed by 30.
You get it. I don't.
20 Dec
Drive, back to the sun.
Like we're chasing the darkness.
I can see the stars.
21 Dec
It's 3.26
The sun lowers its head to
sleep. The longest night.
22 Dec
오늘 날시는
그래. 그레이. Grey. Dreich
But walking I go.
23 Dec
Trolls live in the woods.
In winter, they grow green coats
and sleep in red leaves.
24 Dec
My dad once said that
The Scottish sky is lower
in winter when grey.
25 Dec
Christmas Day with friends
Andrew Carolyn Tom and Keith
Walk, Yut, happy hearts.
26 Dec
Off path, over and
under uprooted trees, carved
trenches, we follow.
27 Dec
A crime drama binge.
Morse in Oxford. Endeavour,
Girl, Fugue, Rocket, Home
28 Dec
I'm obssesed with the
carpet of red pine needles
Lining the wood floor.
29 Dec
Is it normally
Red in December? Or can
it be climate change?
30 Dec
A tangerine hue.
Bare branches appear to glow,
Hail the night's coming.
31 Dec
할머니! 이모!
The boys hug, climb, play games and
Paw me like a cat.

A haiku for everyday: November volume

17 Nov
I hang out washing
Even when it's cold. And if
It freezes. Oh well.
18 Nov
Cyanosis, cy
an nose, lips, cheeks, fingers, toes.
My body is cold
19 Nov
Oh Blue Sky, don't hide.
Don't be timid. Don't be shy.
Burst forth through the clouds.
20 Nov
Purple scales, red nose,
Breathing wee puffs of steam smoke.
I am a dragon.
21 Nov
Muddy, not icy.
Careful running and at times
Slippery. So walked.
22 Nov
Drizzle, mizzle, mist.
Zebra brolly, Christmas lights,
Wet Warwick Castle.
23 Nov
Crisp winter sun. To
Blenheim, walk with Alison.
Cascading light falls.
24 Nov
Spindly brown fingers
Bereft of leaves. Standing proud,
Still in midnight blue.
25 Nov
3.20am
Woke up. Need a wee. Can't sleep.
Perimenopause?
26 Nov
부넝색 하늘
입안에 구름. 하얀
풀. 사각사각.
27 Nov
Teaching at 9. So,
Getting the earlier train.
Will give plenty time.

Cancelled, delayed trains.
Fuck, I'm going to be late.
Got slides ready. Run!
28 Nov
Winter good food show.
Ping Coombes, Ankursrum, Cheese, Rum.
Funny James Martin
29 Nov
I went swimming, then
Spa with Helen and Hannah
A Christmas concert.
30 Nov
Sometimes, potatoes
are the best part of a roast.
Or the Brussels sprouts

A haiku for everyday is my winter project. And I don’t care that November isn’t technically winter. I hate the grey, the wet cold, the drizzle and shorter days, and it upsets me that the weather affects my mood so much. Recently, I read a BBC article that said that a seasonal winter hobby could help counter the misery.

So this project was concocted at an Enneagram day where we addressed the topic of narratives. And ‘I struggle with Autumn and Winter’ is one of my narratives. So, in pairs, we each explored how we could use each of our heart/body/mind centres to explore those narratives, and perhaps how to help ourselves.

“What would your heart centre say to you?” “My mum would say, write a poem or play an instrument.” “You could write a haiku everyday and then it would be your record of this Winter.”

So here we go.

Those questions from the Enneagram day.

P.s. I’ve also joined an orchestra.

Lockdown Hair: #growingoutaPixieCut

When are the hairdressers going to be allowed to reopen? What am I going to do about my hair?

I heard this a lot during the 12 week lockdown earlier this year. It appears that managing our hair growth was something all of us bonded over during lockdown. I think that I’m not alone in wanting to have hairdressers classed as essential services that can continue to stay open if we go into tighter restrictions, or dare I say, another national lockdown.

Perfect hairstyle in a tropical climate

By the way, I don’t normally like to post photos of myself on my blog, but I’ve taken the plunge for this post because I couldn’t see a way out of it. Anyway, this is me in my final few weeks as I’m having one of my goodbye *sob sob* lunches with friends. I think I’d recently had a hair cut.

About 4 years into living in Cambodia, I was finally brave enough to get a pixie cut.

It turned out to be perfect for life in a tropical climate, albeit at that point viewed upon as an unusual hairstyle for a female. In Cambodia, there is a custom of shaving one’s head when there has been a terrible tragedy. Normally you’d see the eldest in the family do this when there had been a death in the family. Thus when some of my Khmer friends saw my pixie cut for the first time, they thought that I had received some awful news and was very upset. Not so. There’s an interesting cross-cultural difference titbit for you.

growing out a pixie cut

I was still pretty attached to my pixie cut after I left Cambodia. It was one of the ways I could hold onto a remnant of me in Cambodia. Nonetheless, come May 2020, I asked on Instagram:

‘This is annoying. Maybe it’s time to cut my fringe myself or shall I endure growing it out?’

Most replied: grow it out.

Then in June 2020, I wrote a little ode to my pixie cut, which I’ve revised a little here.

Dear Pixie Cut,

Dear Pixie Cut,
It’s been a long time since we saw a hairdresser.
Now you tuft out at the back,
You get in my face when we run,
We can’t decide what to do about the fringe,
And you tuck beautifully behind my ears.

Is it time for us to part, move on and let you grow out?

Can I hold onto you for one last cut?

Finally it's a bob

In July, I was finally able to book an appointment with the hairdresser. I wrote a haiku.

4 months in lockdown.
#Growingoutapixiecut
Turned into a bob.

Yes, I decided the time had come to say goodbye. And honestly, I was alright with it. Time, eh. There’s no substitute for it being a healer.

By the way, are hashtags in poems allowed? Are they a thing?

Peace, a haiku, a run and a prayer during Covid-19 disruption

I joined a creatives group in the new year while I was in Aberdeen.  Caralyn, the same one who encouraged me to blog again, talked me into going along with her and frogmarched me to introduce me to the group leader.  This was very much necessary because the shy introvert in me was reluctant to make any new friends.

I should backtrack a wee bit to provide some context. My first month following my return from Cambodia was bewildering. I didn’t know what was going to happen next or where I was going to be, other than I was back living at my mum’s and it had been the right time to end my Cambodia life. I was exhausted from my life being flipped upside down. That October felt particularly cold and I kept looking aghast at people dressed in shorts when it was below 6 degrees celsius. As I pulled on my four layers and searched for some thermal clothing, I started to experience regular moments when I felt like I couldn’t breathe properly, and I’d be scared to fall asleep in case my body forgot how to breath while I slept. This is me, who has never suffered from anxiety.

My struggle with the cold.

Two things really helped. Firstly, I got help. I engaged a coach to help me go through this transition. Someone I didn’t know who had gone through major changes moving from one country to another. She gave me a structure to the transition. When things got hard in month 3, she reassured me that months 3 and 4 normally held the most tension as friends asked what you had decided to do, when you had decided nothing because those decisions still felt overwhelming, like the circumstances were too fluid to make any concrete decisions. Secondly, a friend reassured me that my panic was a common reaction to major disruptive changes. He agreed with my recognition that this season was a ‘winter’, so to take it easy, do very little “productively”, to remember to take deep breaths and do a little exercise. It helped to normalise my situation and after that first month, I could breathe a little easier.

By January, I was quite happily in the rhythms of my ‘splendid isolation’ or ‘my winter’ in the North East of Scotland. The name inspired by Britain’s 19th century foreign policy of splendid isolation and all the Brexit chatter. After the turbulence of the last few years, the peace and stillness was exactly what I needed. In all honesty this is what I had nicknamed this season of my life weeks before self-isolating and social distancing were to become a thing. The flip side of my choices was that I had reverted to being a shy turtle. Eyes peering out over my scarf and hat. Checking out who the safe people were to talk to before deciding that I’d rather be talking to trees.

Some of the trees I would talk to

I was also intimidated by the thought that this creatives group would be made up of all art school/’I studied design/drama/writing at university’ type people.  However, in actual fact, yes some of the group are like that but the group is made up of a variety of people with different craft/art/food/creative writing/photography/design interests and passions.  I surprised myself by enjoying their company and the discussions. The following weeks, I went back and started making new friends.

When I moved to another city for a new job three weeks ago, I didn’t expect to be able to continue to be part of them. However, because of the Covid-19 lockdown measures, we moved to meeting online.  Each week we focus on something different.  This week, the focus was on peace.

I found myself meditating on this song by Mosaic MSC every time I went outside for my daily walk/run.  It begins, peace, bring it all to peace.  Apt, right?  I would pray for family, friends and people I knew who were ill or in the vulnerable group, or in difficult/stressful/anxious situations to know God’s peace.  An hour before we were due to meet online, I suddenly worried that my meditative peace prayers wouldn’t count as a creative output.  Thus, I quickly cobbled together this haiku on peace as my contribution instead.

Peace

Piece by piece, step by
Step. What was overwhelming
Becomes breathable

It began as a thought, ‘what if I did a play on words with peace/piece’.  (There are a couple of quilters in my creatives group.) For me, it evokes memories of marathon training, running up hills, the times I began a couch to 5k programme after time out because of injury. Then there is the sleepless 48 hours when I had a dengue fever rash that covered my entire body and as I cried alone in pain and frustration I kept reminding myself that this too will pass.

I had to learn a lot about pain, rest, asking for help, sabbaticals and self-care during my Cambodia years but especially so in the last two years. One picture that has really comforted me this year has been of God’s hands holding me in this dark vacuum as I feel like I’m falling. He has got me. You might not be religious, but I’m sharing that picture in case it offers you some comfort.

One more thing. When all the things that you rely on to keep you happy are stripped away, if you can, do one thing each day FOR YOU that you enjoy, whether it’s quilting, DIY, reading a book, burning onions, binge-watching a TV series, talking to the guinea pigs.  That’s self-care.  Do the things you have to do too.  And remember.  This too will pass.

A Broken Violin

 

This happened today
Bernardo needs putting back
Together. Erm, glue?

I had seen a small separation between the fingerboard and the neck the other week. I wondered whether the humidity was playing havoc with it. So I had an inkling that my violin would break this morning. But still, when the fingerboard separated from the neck in my hands, my heart sank. Bless him, my friend Pov said, “Glue it back together, no problem.” 

Yes, hopefully. But that will done by a specialist. Bernardo needs some TLC. 

Chocolate Chilli Brownies

It has almost been a year since I started this blog and I began it with a poem.  Coincidentally, I’m celebrating it’s first anniversary with another one.

I put up a twitter post asking people to guess the mystery ingredient in one of my brownies.   They came back with chestnuts, courgettes, chillis… all great ideas… but incorrect.   (it was maltesers).  The chilli suggestion, however, reminded me of the time I experimented with brownies by adding in chillies.  My friend Jen ate one.  This was her reaction.

Jen spits it out. Eugh!

“What did you put in this one?”

Chilli Brownies.

chocolate_and_chilli