Greenwitchaustralia's Blog

A little bit dress up, a little bit of green magic…


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The Cheers Toast Moment

As I handed Alice the toddler her cheese toast VERY early this morning, and announced its name “Cheese Toast” she clinked it to mine… as in “Cheers”… Toast. Very funny.

"Cheers"

A Cheers Toast Moment (C.T.M) is the perfect antidote for all matter of ills. These unscripted and unconscious acts are just the thing to get you through your daily groove thang.

Not fatigue, not illness, not wardrobe malfunction or the dreaded burnt pot disaster can better the C.T.M.

The CTM lets in the light, the joy and the absurdity of any persistent negative thinking. CTM is like liquid gold for the soul. Look out for and celebrate your next CTM.

CHEERS!

Green Blessings.


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Being Caroline

Today I am Caroline. Just as it is, no embellishments, no fuss and that is okay with me.

I enjoyed a grand, long train ride the other day and was reflective (As I often am while traveling) and thought about how okay I was with myself at that particular moment. Being Caroline felt just fine.

I had quite a lot of nicknames when I was younger… most of them unpleasant, and they seem like a chronicle of the life and times of me.

Fuzzy/Curly-Wurly: Primary school taunt on account of …. well curly- wurly hair. (Taken to heart in a devastating way and made me feel very sad)

Static: Early high school mocking jibe (Similar to above) with more advanced language content. Made me feel horribly rejected and friendless. (I was)

Koos: Mid high school extra nasty poke and prod meaning Sook spelt backwards. I was a sook on account of early taunting and multiple hair references. This didn’t help. Lots of time crying at school.

Jelly: Early teen years developing breast reference. At least I felt noticed! Awkward when your father calls you this nick-name.

Strange lack of names for later high school years. We grew up and started studying.

Caro: Post university. Trying out a new sense of self. Caro at the time seemed fresh and unencumbered. Later it felt try-hard and inauthentic. It remains persistent and is unappreciated.

CAROLINE: It is my name and I like it. I must have grown into myself somewhere along the line.

No trimmings, no makeup, bare essential me.

Welcome to me.

Green Blessings.


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Small magic deposits…

Some days are for super BIG magic. Some days feel totally magic free. (Boo Hoo!) And some are filled with the wonder of constant small miracles for which I am most grateful.

Work often rushes at me like a tsunami of overwhelm. I need to be strong and hold the space well to cope.

I am fortunate enough to have the best window view in the organisation. (photo on the way) Every time I look out at the secret garden just a few steps a way I feel some instant replenishment.

I had a visitor at work yesterday. She came with a joyous bag of tricks and a lovely disposition. Magic between people feels great too. My visitor flew in on her broom and said that she’d met me before, my old wise self in a dream space. She revealed parts of myself that I hide from others. You gotta be happy with that. I love it when time transcends reality and your psychic space gets a good sweeping. And meeting someone who makes your head happy with possibility.

And then I wandered off to my community garden plot. Despite last years drought, locusts, snails, thefts, poor planting technique and other vagaries of nature I picked my families dinner. Beetroot, fresh basil , corn, tomatoes and some parsley. One hour from pluck to pesto and I felt like I had a big jolt of nature’s vitamins packing it in to my bowl.

And while the pumpkin’s haven’t really set that well…. they have the most amazing flowers. Joy rising up like a phoenix from the compost.

So many rainbow blessings in every day.


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There’s Gnome Place Like Home.

Earl the gnome has been with me for about ten years. He looks more wizened than that, old soul that he is. He’s in his third home since we met, and while he is obliging he is yearning for a place to stay for the next couple of hundred years, or so.

While I don’t expect to accompany Earl for that long in the earthly realm, I certainly share his desire for a patch of our own. There’s gnome place like home.

For as long as I can remember Gardens have been my default dreaming option. I’ve planted many metaphorically speaking, some thriving, some with a few too many aphids. These days my gardens are doing much better, and they are starting to make their mark in my earthly world.

I do some small time gardening at my rental property. A few potted herbs, a few lettuces (well-tended by Earl), and the oaks that have been travelling me for the last three years. I also dabble in a one year old community garden plot that is starting to emerge. I lose myself there when I go trowel in hand.

But more recently I seem to have quietly become the custodian of a very Secret and very special garden. Without realising it, I had stumbled across the very garden that has been in my dream space for at least ten years.

When I first met this garden, I kinda liked it, but wasn’t that quick to recognise its beckoning call. The garden was knocking on my subconscious door for a few months before I answered.

And then a sow thistle asked to be removed…

The last few months have been a whirlwind as I have claimed this space as a welcome respite from my busy world. I have weeded, and pruned, and dug and manured, and removed debris and swept and sat and listened. It is starting to tell me what to do. I am truly with joy.

A heart garden is not always what and where you expect it.

But a heart garden will always meet your greatest inner needs.

Green blessings.


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The juicy nashi miracle

Today I went to a secret garden. No one knows about it because it’s secret.

Someone had dug up some tomatoes and corn from their mean landlords house and put it in the fertile soil of the garden. Instant bounty.

I picked a nashi, and took a sneaky bite. WOW, juicealishious. I haven’t had a moment so transformative since the great tinned spaghetti healing. The nectar of that juice made me remember all the joy and all the wonder of digging in that garden. And all the possibilities that come when we dig, and toil and snip and weed, and prune, and sprinkle and compost and love and laugh and talk to the earthworms and flowers.

And the awful stuff was all gone, and there are more nashis to come.

Green Blessings.


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The Totally Spontaneous Tinned Spaghetti Healing

I was having a moment with Tinned Spaghetti…on toast…resplendent in absolutely no nutritional content whatsoever, and I instantly felt better. Spaghetti saviour!

I have been dragging the ball and chain a bit lately. The relentlessness of a sick family, busy work life and sleep challenges left me feeling a bit hairy scary for a few weeks. I had simply lost my mojo. I did rally for a fabulous night of Burlesque on Saturday, largely due to the restorative powers of a cocktail called an Orange Mimosa. It did seem though, something more was required, I just did not know what it was.

Last night my husband called me pious. Oh dear I thought, I’ve crossed a line that I didn’t even know existed. I had sucked everything in so much I was in danger of major combustion. My sparkles had dropped off even.

Today the rain is falling steadily. It feels quite calming. My daughter is sick again, and I found myself home for Carers 101. But today felt different. I cleaned out some cupboards, in between eye drops and healing potions. I wrapped a few Christmas presents and giggled at my tree.

It could be anything. What does help us move with grace between one space and another? Today I’m totally okay with it being the Totally Spontaneous Tinned Spaghetti Healing.


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The Day I got Saved By An Earthworm

I went on a sabbatical recently. It was called work.

I was quite shocked with the veracity of how I got sucked into the whirl of it all. So for three months I have run my family and been to work, and there wasn’t much time for anything else. And that was okay. Now I am a bit more practiced at juggling all those balls, have found my work groove thang and am back in the game again.
Probably spurred on by a couple of inspired gardening sessions in the rain in the last few weeks. I don’t know what happens, but when those drops pour down in the night, I feel compelled to get out and tinker in the soil. I love that gurgle and giggle as the weeds coming glopping out, with worms hanging on for dear life. We say hello and part good friends.

I have been practicing new spaces over the past three months. Trying to hang on to the beautiful bits of my time off with Alice. I can’t make bread everyday anymore, and stock is infrequent. My house sure isn’t as tidy, but my brain sure is working a bit better.

And I decided that exercise needed to be something I did make time for. So I’ve been dabbling and enjoying Healthy at 44. I’m finding muscles I thought had composted. I rediscovered a waist line I thought had spread like some Exxon disaster. There is also this new passenger called self respect. I’m learning to like it.

Sometimes I still feel like it’s all too much, but my time spent playing with herbs and ritual and the goddess; and cooking and connecting with my community have all served me well. I feel grounded. I feel kind of optimistic. I feel blessed.

And I just can’t wait for my next wet, wet, wet gardening sojourn.

Green Blessings.