And so Christmoo approaches.
I also have some photos that Peter took when we were out West last week. Look at those colours, muted pinks and flesh tones, I love it. You can feel the cool smooth sand just by looking at it.
My camera died before I could get any pics, so I'll have to make sure I charge up the old batteries today. There is of course, Piha, and then the one in the dark shows the little 'alien lights' of the glow worms when we went for our night excursion.
Forgot to mention I went to a nice bbq at Tam and Sean's last Saturday, had some good catch ups with the likes of Callum and Nik, also a good rave with Jennifer. Some truly lovely and talented beasts in this world. Callum has been thinking of doing a Smiths themed night for awhile and I think he should DO IT. I'll even bring carnations. Well that might be taking it too far, I don't actually like carnations.
What I do like is the healing session I had with Brennan Practitioner Karen Reid. I saw her yesterday at 11am, and boy, it's all a bit too personal (yes, even for me) to go into but it was exactly what I needed.
Karen does a sort of hands on/energy healing and I find it more effective than Reiki. I also don't expect it to be the only thing to help me, but it definitely assists in a healing process. Better than going on anti-depressants in my case. I totally back this woman, so if you are open to angels and all the kind of carry on I enjoy, definitely check her out. www.thehealingcompany.co.nz
Mum also told me something yesterday that I didn't even remember about myself. Isn't that amazing, that someone can tell you a small detail about you from child-hood, and suddenly you look at your Now Self in a whole different light?
She asked if I remembered that I would sometimes roll my father's smokes for him. In my mind I now recall the yellow packet, the smell, but I can't clearly remember rolling one. It feels like the edge of a dream, one you are trying to recall the following morning.
I'd stay at his place in the weekends, this was when I was about five and six, and if he was on a job I'd go out to the building site with him. I learned to keep myself amused for hours with pieces of wood and a keen imagination.
I remember his worn jeans, brown hair, strong hands. He made lumpy porridge, and then that was the only way I'd eat it. He adored me, and I adored him. Mum said that it was just thought of as cute to see a little girl roll her father's smoke for him. She said
"it's not like you rolled a lot of them at once, just one, and then it was 'here daddy'"
So this small piece of information is on my mind. Mum says he eventually got one of those tins that made them easier to make, and that I then learned how to use that. I was always in pigtails back then, pigtails and sundresses.
I wondered why I hadn't really minded The Painter smoking, and how I felt somehow comforted by it. That I've always thought of rollies as being a little cleaner, and that the smell doesn't give me a headache. I didn't know why I thought this. Now I do.
It's almost Christmas time and it's going to be a good one. I can feel it!
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