Update post apocalypse

Mogwai being all cute

So, it's a Sunday morning here in Otaki, I'm sat on a sofa with three cats napping next to me, it's raining outside so my plans to be productive out on the sanctuary are slightly thwarted. But nonetheless, I had blog on my list of things to do today so at least there are fewer distractions and I should be able to get this done. There's some updating to do here as I've not written in my blog for about a month. I've also decided that I need to change the name of my blog as travelling teacher doesn't seem so relevant anymore. I'm not teaching so much as learning, and I'm not travelling extensively either, I more just plod about in a vaguely haphazard fashion and look at stuff and think about things. So this shall be my final entry in travelling teacher. It's satisfying leaving it on 42 posts, the answer to what's the universe, life, everything?

Catchup:

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I left taupo for Napier. I wanted to go to Napier originally as it's the same name as an ex student and I considered doing something wine related there. In the end I stayed at Andy's backpacker, I have a good friend called Andy so of course I'd have to stay there. I got stuck in their office with my big bag, in my defense, the office was more of a little section of a hallway separated from the kitchen and the hall by a couple of doors. I booked in for four days there, and despite being advised by a few people not to go as it was nothing special and there wasn't much to do there, I loved it. It had more character than a lot of other towns. People had told me it was all about art nouveau, I didn't really know what that was, and wasn't particularly interested, but it certainly gave the place a different edge. I did an immense amount of shopping, went for my usual walks up big hills. Sat at the beach. Started making jewerelly. Read terry Pratchett and hung out in this AMAZING cafe where I ate an array of non vegan cakes, excessive quantities really... Research if you will for my vegan cake versions of all these delightful delicacies. The lemon curd brioche was immense. I bought a beautiful print of a cat next to some books and a teapot, as the place is famous for art etc. and decided it was ok cos I'm probably not going to do anything like bungy jumping. The people at the hostel were great, the guys who worked there were lovely and really chilled out, there were some real characters, like Willie, who had been in prison, for setting fire to things, and the man who talked the whole way through skyfall saying how boring it was and how it was the worst James Bond. Good times. (Actually it was really annoying at the time and I told him afterwards he would be the worst person to go to the cinema with. I felt bad for a day and apologized the next.) they also had a Starcraft championship going on so I got to play on Starcraft for the first time in years! It was awesome, but apparently, I'm really rubbish at the game, I guess I used to cheat before...

I left Napier for Wellington where I'd be staying with the boys who I lived with previously for another week. They even came to pick me up from the bus stop which I wasn't expecting, it was our first road trip together. Good times. I had returned to Wellington to sort out a bicycle to start my trip round the South Island trip. I had big plans to build it all myself with the help of the guys at the 128 bike workshop. 128 had all changed when I was there before, the anarchist community were all in disagreement and my friends were being proper shunted. There were other care takers, who were doing a lot of community work, but for me, it just wasn't what I had wanted to come back to so was a touch sad. The guys in the workshop were great, I've learnt more about bicycles that week and the other week when I returned than I ever had when I had bicycles in my life before. (Little mogwai, the kitten, has come to sit in my lap now, he's all soggy from being cleaned by nana the cat, who only has two teeth, her methods of cleaning appear to be largely: drool all over the other cat. He's purring away happily now, who'd have thought I'd ever like cats so much? Animals are great. ) anyway, I spent a happy week in town before leaving to come to the sanctuary. So I left my old housemates with a load of stuff I'd come back for and went to spend some quality time with the animals at the black sheep sanctuary.

Cat was leaving that weekend for the final part of her herb course, she's almost completed her diploma. The others were all off tramping. I thought maybe I'd get lonely or bored. But with terry Pratchett and a sanctuary full of animals, neither of these things are possible. I spent the weekend alone, and loved the peace. I loved feeding and petting the animals. Even the scary cows. The weather was too wet to do any gardening but I tidied and cooked and was just so content. When cat returned, she was telling me more stories about her course and the things she learnt and I suddenly thought, hey! I should totally live at the sanctuary and do this course. Who needs to see the South Island anyway? Mother would be angry and no doubt shout at me, but it'd be funny going to countries all over the world and missing the reason why most people go. But why would I go there when I want to learn about permaculture and have found a place where I can get hands on experience and do a herb course and become a natural healer?

So when I returned to Wellington I had new plans to plan, either way I'd still need a bicycle so I got back onto that.  I stayed at the 128 house one night and the next day I was interrogated by some other 128 community group members. It all felt a lot less welcoming and I stayed at the boys house for a few nights on the sofa as they have a new housemate now, kirsten? and she's amazing!!! Making afghans and awesome vegan chocolate milkshakes! She's my new favourite housemate there, and I told the boys as much. I didnt want to impose too long so i spent a night a Raquel's house and a few at toms house. I experienced some AMAZING vegan potlucks and picnics. Vegan food is awesome. At these social event there were also lots of doggies, which was frikkin awesome too, rad if you will... Greyhounds are really cool doggies!

Bicycle adventure

I also, naturally spent a lot of time buying stuff for my bicycle and extending my working holiday visa and fixing up my bike. When I finally finished, more or less, I attempted an easy ride with my excessive luggage to Raquel's house, about three km away. bout 1 km in the chain broke and none of the gears had been working anyway and all in all it was probably a worse bicycle than when I started. The main thing is I know more about how to fix a bicycle now and how they work. Tom helped a great deal by offering his bike, named Thrush, a rather unfortunate name really, especially as people keep making the joke: so tom gave you thrush? but I'm not allowed to change it.  We took parts from my bicycle, lets call her... Rubbish, and used them for Thrush. I mean, i say we, really tom did all the technical stuff while i watched and screwed on the easy things and gaffer taped a doll to the front ( as you do). A few days later I was ready for my 80km journey back to the sanctuary where I was to spend Christmas and New Years. So, for some reason, I thought the journey would be fairly straightforward and took written instructions but no map. In retrospect, this was probably a mistake. I got lost on multiple occasions, on one occasion I asked a passing stranger for help, and he said he didn't like to say where the road was because it was right over the other side of town and he wasn't sure if it was the road I was looking for. After help from about four other people, I determined that man must have been right, but I was so far in the wrong direction he didn't like to say. I had to go down a massive hill I'd just cycled up, through town, where I asked at a gas station,  after already consulting patients in a drs. Then cycled down another hill and up another to be told I had to go back down that one and turn right. Honestly, I said to people after the ride, I got lost about five times, but half the time I didn't realize I was lost. I'd probably travelled a bit over 40km when I sort of recognized where I was, about half way through my journey, it had taken seven hours so far. It should have taken five in total. I texted k8 to let her know I may be late in arriving at the sanctuary, and explained where I was. Nekminute, k8 was there on the main road, luckily she got out of e van and started speaking to me, I was so focused I would have cycled right passed otherwise. It seemed ludicrous not to accept a lift. Seven hours cycling is a touch exhausting. I mean, I could have gone further, but I probably wouldn't have enjoyed it, and getting lost is quite hassly. I am also a firm believer in serendipity and signs etc. you know, like that story of the man on the roof when there's a flood and people come to save him, but he says no to their help cos god will save him and then he gets all angry at god when he drowns and god is like well I sent you a helicopter and everything... So I took the lift the rest of the way. It was a long way and I would have had to camp en route if I'd continued. I did feel a little bit like a failure. But I was happy to be at the sanctuary, and started making friends with the French wwoofer, françois.

Christmas

Christmas in the Southern Hemisphere is all different. In a conversation with Nick on Skype recently, we both agreed Christmas in England is better. It just feels odd having a BBQ for Christmas, and there are no sprouts!!! It's outrageous... You call this Christmas? Also, I got sunburnt playing Kubb. And ate far too much sugar after baking cinnamon swirls, baclava and banoffee pie. All of which were naturally immense. K8 made a trifle, which was also delicious. I sat in the cold hot tub and read some hobbit while k8 tried to make us all have a water fight. We all went swimming in the river later, which is pretty awesome. The weather has been so hot of late that after a hard days work there's nothing better than going for a quick dip. You get a little bit attacked by sand flies once you're out though. I have a load of new scabs on my legs now.... Mmm. Scabs. There was no exchanging of gifts, because that's not what Christmas is about, I don't think Christmas should be about eating until you're sick either, but I find it hard not to most years. I think next year I'll try not to. I know Christmas is about Jesus being born, but why do we indulge ourselves so much at this time? The gifts Jesus were given were in honour of him so as long as we honour God I don't really see the relevance of anything else. I think the best way to honour God is to respect the life that he has given us, plant and animal, to protect this environment provided, and to say thank you for it all. I shall endeavor to refrain from indulging myself excessively at this time in future and make sure I am more grateful to God.

That takes you up to today. I shall tend to the animals today and maybe do a spot of gardening if the rain clears up. Paint my table and clean and tidy. I'm going to try and read more about permaculture, as I think that is the solution to all life's problems. That and veganism. Living here feels more like living in unity with the earth and with God than most other places. It's a simple, loving, caring place, all the animals know it; nana is even cleaning mogwai's smelly bottom now. ( Thats what Love is).

The Taupo Times

The Taupo Times

From Tauranga to Taupo.
I spent just two days in Tauranga. Generic NZ town. Was possibly misinformed or misheard the information lady, who I'm sure told me it was a fifteen minute walk to the campsite... An hour later I arrived at the place. The chap there was very nice at the silver birch holiday park, his park may be a tad run down looking but he gave me some good camping advice and despite the fact I was concerned I might die from how much stuff I'd just carried for an hour, I stood there chatting to him with my huge backpack still on for a good twenty minutes. His name was Alan, like the slug from my story. Went back into tauranga in the afternoon and did a spot of camping shopping. But really there's nothing special about the place. The next day I explored mount maunganui which is just up the road and on the beach and there's a big hill you can walk up and around, which naturally I did and thoroughly enjoyed myself. I then walked along the beach for about three or four kms and decided to come off in search for sun cream. I was naturally already burnt at this point, even though I'd been using my scarf as a shawl. After a spot more shopping I made my way back, walking instead of via the bus. I ended up walking along a dual carriageway with no pedestrian paths for most of the journey, I must have walked a good 25kms that day. I went and soaked in the hot pool at my hostel for a bit and got an early night. I needed to wake up at 5 am to pack up camp and walk the hour long journey to the bus stop. Even though I'd done nothing but complain about it before, I knew I could do it now and I knew to expect an hour long journey. It was all good.

Weather forecast on arrival. Rain.

Look about town.
Taupo is not a big town yet there is a fair amount available to do. On arrival however the town is as stark as the other NZ towns although a touch more bustling with people. It's the start of tourist season. After a bit of a hassle in attempting to find available accommodation and doing the usual of walking around the place with excessive amounts of luggage I thankfully found a hostel with a room which had just been cancelled. The yha hostels seem to be of a good calibre so I was quite pleased with my choice, although it wasn't so much a choice as the first thing I found. One good thing was the room although small was warm, and after camping in tauranga I felt like I needed some cosiness. The owners also have a chocolate colored Labrador. Very friendly and luckily for me in need of a good petting, I spoke to him over the counter, as you do, and his tail just started bashing the floor. So cute. On my first day, I had a look about town, despite the rain. It's quite generic on ground level, but there's bungees and speed boats and cayaking if you're into all that. Personally I prefer a good old fashioned walk. There's a little museum for those interested about history and who want to keep out of the rain and its connected to an art gallery of local artists, which was quite enjoyable too. I spend the rest of the afternoon in a cafe, one of the two in town to have wifi access. Then recharged at the hostel watching tv and chatting with a few of the other guests.

On Sunday I decided to go to church for the first time in ages. There's a fair few of these not particularly denominated churches if that makes sense. They're just for all Christians, which I suppose you could say about most Christian churches. Anyway, I went there because they looked like the sort to have good music. The keyboard lady came up and chatted to me before the service and everyone was just very friendly and chatty. The music was the cool music I heard at the Anglican Church back in Palmerston North, so I was happy to have gone to this service. We were all invited to coffee after mass, naturally I left at this point, old habits die hard, also I had plans with some non vegan cakes at the French cafe... I'm travelling again, and need to experience the culture of the places I visit, in taupo, that's clearly the French cafe... Sat down with my pain au chocolat, failing miserably not to eat it all before my coffee arrived, so then I had to order an almond croissant to have with that, and then, I'd started drawing and needed a chocolate eclair to finish the picture, the waitress said I was allowed. I like that cafe, maybe I'll go back today before I leave. The cafe owner I don't think liked me though, I was quite scruffy that day, baggy trousers, lumberjack shirt on, trainers. And the cafe is a very delicate affair with doilies and lace and pretty curtains with French designs and ornate little chairs.
I felt really good after my spiffing morning and returned to the hostel to see if maybe I should book doing the tongariro crossing and another night. The lady at the desk was immensely helpful and suggested I do the crossing the next day as the weather was supposed to be good and that way I could leave as planned on Tuesday. Very sensible lady. The buses to the national park are ridiculously priced. $55-59 return or one way... So I figured it works out cheaper not to stay a night there but just stay at Taupo and return for a good nights sleep. Awesome. The kind lady also helped me to decide whether to head to wellington or to napier. the napier ticket was on offer and at just $9 i couldn't resist.
Went out for a nice long walk after that, by a beautiful river, I forget its name but it should be called turquoise delight or something like that. Then to some massive waterfalls, the huka falls, pretty cool, you probably wouldn't want to go swimming there, it's a touch choppy. I walked a bit further after that to visit a bee centre, always good for a laugh. They had lots of information about bees, even a day in the life of a bee, which as it was a worker bee, I pointed out it should have a girls name not a boys name. ( another disgusting result of the patriarchal society in which we live?) I considered going to this moon place, I think the land looks like the moon or something, but as it was Sunday considered it might not be open and it had started to rain. So I headed back to my river walk, glad that I took all those pictures on the way as it didn't look quite so beautiful in the rain. By e time I reached the natural hot pools at the start of the journey the rain had stopped and the weather was fine so I stopped to bathe myself with some other travelers who clearly hadn't done the massive walk but had just stopped to have a nice hot bath. I was bored in no time, cos there were no bubbles and I didn't bring a book with me and there wasn't really enough room to swim about unless I went into the main river which was decidedly cooler. So I walked back to the hostel. Saw someone do a bungy and decided if I ever came back to Taupo maybe I'd do one cos it's quite a small bungy here and into that lovely blue green water it's almost inviting...


Tongariro crossing trauma

Woke up nice and early excited to go on another long walk. Everyone had said it was a 'must-do' in NZ. Plus mother and father did it so it would be easy enough... There had been a spattering of snow on the mountains but it looked like just a dusting. No problemo for me in my trusty running shoes, everyone I had seen to had said trainers were fine. So when the lady said there were shoes for hire I figured I'd be alright in trainers, plus I only had little cotton socks on, not my hardcore walking socks, as bizarrely they give me blisters when I wear me with my trainers on long walks...

Anyway, first bit easy. Bit cloudy and dull. Interesting rust colored vegetation. Little wildlife about. Mount doom clearly in view, all snowy topped. the side tracks were out of bounds for our bus load as we'd been on the late bus (6:30am) and it got quite snowy near the top. First toilet stop on the track, long drop toilets, bit smelly, but do the job. Then there were a few steps going up and some walking uphill, still easy, starting to get a bit of frost around the place. Then, there was likea good two inches of snow about and some of the track was a bit slippy. I was beginning to wonder if maybe my footwear might be an issue. I could cope ok with the long flat snowy parts and my feet weren't even cold or wet or anything, but it was the uphills, with no handrails and only small volcanic rocks that just crumble in your hand to grip hold of. And if I slipped, only people to fall into and the odd volcanic boulder. There's some pretty steep parts as well, and crazy man made snow steps which are all slippy and like just a big boulder to hold onto and a sheer drop next to the steps. Literally thought I would probably die at several points going up this big hill. The worst bit is when you do lose balance, I'd fall forward and just couldn't get a grip to be able to stand up again. So, there were these two German boys who chatted to me for a bit and said I should try and stay warm, my trousers are always low slung so I was exposing my lower back on the snowy mountain side, and I just said that to be honest I was more focused on staying alive and getting up the mountain. I followed the larger of the two in his footprints and that somehow made it easier. I also didn't look around, because I'd just lose balance because of the angle we were walking up at. I said thank you when we reached the top of that bit, we were just a short walk from the highest point, I told him I couldn't do it without him, I don't think he really knew I'd been following him up the mountain. The last bit was a little scary still, as it was still uphill, but I figured, downhill would be just over this peak and then it would be easy. I love going downhills. Turns out though, downhills in snow which are like the hypotenuse do an isosceles triangle are proper scary too... There was some crazy lady in a green jacket who had walking sticks just sort of ran down the slope and she showed me how to sort of side step down. I just did it very slowly. I think it was her husband who was overtaking me and lent me one of his sticks, which made a world of difference. Some other dude had also said about digging your heels in to make little steps and sort of stops you from falling. I got a few pictures of these beautiful emerald green lakes, but by this point I was severely traumatized and just wanted to reach the end in one piece. One of the Germans saw me a bit later after we finished the worst of the downhill part and was like "how did you get down in your shoes?" I told him about the stick man. I got a phot with stick man, I should have asked for his name and address to send him a thank you letter but he didn't seem to speak much English. I told him he was like my guardian angel and he laughed, which is of course the polite thing to do when you don't understand someone... Why is that? Anyway, I got the impression his whole group had been watching me struggle down the hill. I think maybe people didn't take my trials seriously because my red bear hat looked so happy... I'm sure stick man and his wife were laughing at me in a sort of friendly way... I am of course very grateful for their help. So many nice people in the world lets not forget. Chatted to an American guy for the last three or so hours of the trip. He hadn't brought any water or food... Insane, what a crazy pair we made. I shared my food and water with him, and he took the photo of me with stick man. Once it was dry and forested I got back into the swing of things and we overtook loads of people. We finished the walk in six hours five minutes. In time to catch the early bus, we had to wait an hour so chatted on the grass some more and then missed it! So then we had to wait another hour for the next one, we sat on the bus this time... Just in case. It was a day of almost non stop chatting except for the scary walking parts. I chatted non stop to this Canadian dude on the morning bus, then like five hours with the American dude, then my roommates when I returned. I just wanted to write this blog and wash and sleep when I got back, but there was a new room mate at the hostel and then we chatted for about three hours in the evening. Where do I get the energy? Probably all those cakes... Which reminds me, I'm going to treat myself to some French cakes and fine coffee, I've even dressed smarter today so the French lady won't mind having me there... I'm wearing a dress and everything, maybe I'll put make up on etc.

Going Bald for Cancer Kids

So, as some of you know, I've wanted to shave my hair off for a while. I first thought I'd do it at school but all girl independent schools aren't that into having bald pupils. In fact even as a teacher of a state owned co-ed school it was suggested that maybe it wouldn't be an appropriate course of action. Very sad. It's only hair, why does out society place such value on it?

I guess being bald has associations with skin heads, stereotypically aggressive types, we have however come a long way from this, you get many, many, very nice friendly bald people. I suppose people going into prisons, and concentration camps according to my father, have their hair shaved. So maybe there's an association with law breaking, with rebellion, or even with suffering. There is also an association with hair loss and aging, something a lot of people want to avoid an association with. And I suppose the final thing people want to dissociate from is with illness. People who go through chemotherapy lose their hair. People who are ill often have lackluster hair and may even suffer hair loss. And whether we like it, people judge us on our appearance, and that includes our hair. Most boyfriends I've had have told me they find me more attractive with long hair, they encourage me to grow it. We live in this patriarchal world where the undertones of society are informing women are attractive with long hair but not short.

I don't feel the need to defend being human, if you see someone with scraggly hair and a pale face (like mine, sometimes jaundiced looking) you may form the impression that that person is not well. You've made a judgement on the information that you're senses have picked up. Sometimes when I see bald people I wonder if they've had chemotherapy but to make an accurate judgement I would have to speak to that person to understand why they don't have hair. (Unfortunately i worry sometimes that starting these conversations may appear rude... bloody rules of society and social intercourse!) We all make first impressions, but then letting those first impressions get in the way of treating that person as a fellow human being, from getting to know a person, is ridiculous.

I'm not the type of person who avoid others based on how they like to have their hair. I don't prejudice against people and it appears that a large majority of society still does. And I guess those who would encourage me NOT to cut my hair are trying to protect me, they don't want people to mistake me for an aggressive type, from an ill person, maybe some don't want me to be thought by others as being a lesbian because they are known to often have short hair. It's a shame in society that we form these prejudices, I am not so naïve to be unaware of them, but at the same time, I don't really care about them. If someone doesn't take the time to know me to discover who I am then why do I care what opinions they form? I quite enjoy the fact that I look like something I'm not. I'm fighting the laws of prejudices. I am one of the reasons we shouldn't form prejudices against others, and you should all be too.

Anyway, as I place little value on looking stereotypically girly, as I go through phases with my hair anyway, as I'm not at a stage in my life where my status is preventing me from doing so, as I want to help people, as i have less than 5% grey hair and haven't dyed it, I am in a unique position to be able to raise money to cut my hair off so it can be used to make a wig for a person who does place high value on hair and their appearance. I want to   help a person who has had to go through life threatening and life changing treatment, who has lost their confidence and then has society telling them because they suffered from cancer and had treatment they are no longer attractive. I am so supportive of those confident to go through their life bald and not wearing wigs, but i can totally understand those who don't want to do this. I also want to raise funds to help children who have cancers receive treatment and have a good time! The Child Cancer Foundation provides economic and emotional support to children and their families at this difficult time. I want to raise $2000 dollars to help them do this.

Here's a picture of me now:

Here's my web page to donate money!
http://www.fundraiseonline.co.nz/MaryMcintoshgoesbald/

Here's the charity I've chosen to raise funds for
http://www.childcancer.org.nz/

I'll post some after pictures later....

Keep dreaming cos there's a lot of dreams to be had. 

This month of my life belongs to Bruno

The month of Bruno.

So technically, I suppose, Bruno is my first ever holiday romance, although that feels almost like trivializing what I felt for him. Basically, there's just very few people in the world who are that wonderful. I hope he always retains his wonderfulness.

The first time I saw Bruno, I thought, gosh he's attractive, too attractive. So I just carried on, almost ignoring him. A group at the hostel were going to see him play at his Brazilian bar, I established that it was the good looking one who was playing, at the time I didn't know his name. That was my first vaguely drunken evening in the while, so drunk Mary took over and was in fits of hysterics for half the evening and I don't remember why, I think I was laughing at Jose laughing at me. It was a good night. Lots of dancing. I was possibly proposing marriage to every brazilian at the bar due to my sudden inclination to visit the country based on the groovy music. After that evening Bruno and I started talking and making eyes at each across the kitchen. Our first kiss was instigated by him and as I pushed him away explaining I'd just had a ridiculously garlicky dinner, he kissed me anyway. That's more romantic than most things. I stumbled back to my room in a giddy daze. Hadn't been kissed like that for a while.

We spent all our spare minutes together, smooching excessively in public places. Being cutesy and laughing and telling each other how beautiful the other is. We have similar views on life and the importance of positivity and energy in it. With shared interests, similarly vague in yoga and meditation and eastern philosophies, but both with a grounding in Christianity. We enjoyed exercising together and talking and teaching our languages. Walking around auckland barefoot. Time went quickly.

We shared our meals together and cooked for one another. His only conceivable fault being that he overcooks vegetables, although ever meal he made was delicious. No ones ever cooked me vegan food so much before.

I stopped reading my list of happy. There was no need when I was with Bruno. He was perfect. I was even more attracted to him when he said he wanted to start doing volunteer work when he finished his English course. He wanted to work with children or old people.

We ended up being forced together further when the hostel decided I had to I've into his room as I spent so much time there anyway. Losing even more space than I had previously I wasn't such a happy bunny. Bruno was as positive as ever saying "for me, it is a good thing." I love the way he talks, I always told him not to learn any more English, because the way he speaks is so cute.

I couldn't even be angry at him when he said quite plainly " I just don't love you, I just don't love you Mary." I smiled as he said it, (although feeling like a truck had hit me on the inside) because it's so rare that you'd ever get any guy from Britain speaking that plainly unless it was some sort of heated argument. Bruno and I didn't argue, I just asked if we were boyfriend and girlfriend and he said he didn't think so. I think I thought it had gone that way, but clearly not. I'm not into casual relationships so much, and from what I knew of them, those involved weren't so... Well involved, cuteness and spending time together aren't generally involved in casual relationships in England as far I was aware. Cultural differences, what you gonna do? Anyway, Bruno had his reasons for not wanting a serious relationship and I understand them. I told him I couldnt continue with him as I would get too involved and ultimately hurt. As you do, I regretted it as soon as the next day, especially as we were still sharing the same room/bed.

What I don't get about some people is that wall they can build. I just don't know how they go from being all squidgey and lovely to just emotionless and void of any emotion for you in the snap of the fingers. Ive found in life that if I have feelings for a person, it takes a long long time for those feelings to go. Which is one reason I usually have about two years as a single person after my relationships I think, just to be happy as myself and by myself and to let my emotions come to a gradual end. This acting like you're just friends or less after being so intimate feels like losing a limb, like a part of you has been taken away and is more painful than the situation itself. I could understand the reasons for not continuing with the relationship, but not the way the way it was dealt with, and it is the change of behaviors that affects me more than the reality of the situation.

Anyway, I felt seriously injured for like two days and was beginning to doubt I had any emotional strength. But then I read my list of happy one evening as Bruno sang and played guitar and I just felt good again. I am so aware that I don't need other people to ensure my own happiness, that really, what other people do doesn't matter. We duetted after that and spent a pleasant evening together, he went out and I slept as I had work the next day. I moved out soon after and now live in a house near my work, in ellerslie. I've been happy here these past two days, even if the cat isn't that friendly, my housemates are nice, chilled out people, and accepted me to join their posse even though I sent a txt soon after looking round their house saying I'd be happy to live with them even if I had already forgotten their names.

I've spent the evening with my new housemate Dave, who may possibly be a bit scared of me now, he's retreated to his room for the evening. We watched Rango..? The one with Johnny Depp as a chameleon, I laughed hysterically for about ten minutes when spoons said " I found some human spinal cord in my fecal matter". Then tried to start a conversation a bit later about suicide... I don't get why it's a taboo subject. Anyway, potentially, he may think I'm strange. I've been sat here in the lounge listening to Dave's music, I think he's one of these people who collects other people's music and doesn't really know what he has, he didn't seem very familiar with his roxy music... I'm onto cat Stevens now... He has quite the collection.

Anyway, I'll hopefully see Bruno tomo, I have plans to go swimming. It's nice just to stay friends with everyone, to love everyone. The world is such a difficult place, without love, I think it would be pointless. And as I told mother, if we didn't feel sad, then we wouldn't feel happy. Swings and round abouts and all that. Isn't there some saying about how you only regret things you don't do, I think that may be right. I've only ever regretted things I've not done, and I certainly don't regret any second of my time with Bruno, I wish only happiness for him, and that all his dreams come true. I know he only wishes good things for me too.  Maybe one day I will name a rabbit after him....

Positivity Plus

Positivity Plus

With WWOOFing it's really interesting; every place you visit is so varied and one can never be quite sure of what to expect and how to react. My first reaction to most places I visit is to get stuck in with work. It seems to be working out pretty well. I'm not quite sure why I do it, maybe it gives me time to suss people and places out or something, but I do like having something to do. Another thing I've noticed is that as soon as I arrive or meet people my first thought is nearly always : I preferred the other place. Which is quite strange as I always thought I was open minded and obviously realize that it takes time to get to know and feel comfortable with people and places, maybe it's a first impression that most people have, and maybe it's because i'm not a massive fan of change, although having said that, for someone who doesn't like change that much, I sure change stuff a lot, maybe I do like change....?

Anyway, this place sounded quite interesting, in my WWOOFing book. Hosts are given about three or four sentences to either describe themselves, the work, the place, whatever and from that, one chooses where to go. Generally, there's a lot more to the people and places than are in the book... (like this place didn't mention rabbits... Or the fact they eat them (or plan to)) I picked this place as it mentioned yoga, circus training and Mongolian round houses, or yurts as they're otherwise known. They also said they had three kids under seven, and I thought, well, I've not spent that much time with kids since I've been in NZ, it might be interesting.

The last place I was at was a beautiful house in the process of being sort of renovated, with a lovely big garden; 3 acres or something, a docile, quiet dog, two lovely quiet and respectful people, it was just so pleasant being there and working there. I loved all the gardening I got to do, and just the simple, quiet way of life that is found across much of what I've experienced in NZ. I arrived at my current hosts house at the same time as another visitor to the sounds of a vibrant loud sort of household, I didnt know where to start, but almost immediately had the urge to tidy the living area (which I did, there was rice and toys and all sort over the floor!) I had the choice of sleeping out in the house truck thingy or inside the house sharing a room with Susie, the eldest, who's six years old. I'm not quite sure how I ended up in the lower bunk of her bed that night, as I'm pretty sure everything inside me already knew I wanted to be out of the house and have space to myself as I have at every other place. I think maybe I felt it would be easier for the family if I was inside... Anyway Susie goes to bed 2 hours before me and wakes up an hour or so before me, around 6am (without the use of an alarm) and quietly closes the door being her and goes to the living area to play. I usually get up an hour or so later at which point one of the three is usually crying and Hannah the mother, wakes me up to do yoga, which I volunteered for. It's been really nice doing yoga in the morning before breakfast again. The food is quite simple, like oat/rice/rye porridge, homemade breads and soups and vegetables, organic food cooked on their fireplace in the living area; it's all delicious. The tasks I've been doing are different, although I've done some gardening-planting garlic- I've also been sanding and oiling the wooden bits for the yurt and helping out with the kids and tidying. I've never considered myself a particularly tidy person, I have spurts of tidiness, spring cleans and the like. Anyone who has seen photos of my bedroom would in fact testament to my untidy nature, untidy bedrooms are one thing, but I do enjoy a tidy living area, so I've spent countless times tidying what has to become mess in less than half the time it took me to get clean. I've not found it demoralizing. I guess life is full of cycles, you can't get demoralized by them, or you'd be demoralized by life...

All I can say is, that I have a totally new found respect for my parents and in fact all parents, and anyone who wants to be a parent, just wow. I think in my mind, because I was no doubt a perfect child in every way who never had tantrums or cried, I just presumed all children were like that ( other than the ones on supernanny). But kids are like major hard work! They cry about.... EVERYTHING. on average about every ten minutes someone has had a cry about something. They can be smelly, they poo and wee everywhere, they whine endlessly, make ceaseless amounts of mess, have obscene amounts of energy, are too loud, annoying at times. But bizarrely, you can't hate, and I don't find I even dislike them... When they smile it's even more contagious than grown up smiles, they're so strange and interesting, cute and amusing, it's fun explaining things to them, showing them new things and playing with them. I mean, I think I can safely say, I never want three under the age of seven, but this experience has confirmed that maybe one would be ok. Just for the experience. As some of you may know, I was debating having none due to the overpopulation of the planet, but my one can just replace me when I die. The point is sort of moot as I'm so far from that anyway.

I do feel like I need the space sometimes, but the evening time when they've all gone to bed provides that, and I can just be happy that I'm not a parent and I do have this time to myself. I've spent it reading some of the books the family have and have just finished one I found very interesting called the vortex, mother would probably steer clear of it, or burn it, considering it 'new agey', but basically, it's just helped me to feel even better about myself. Which is weird, because I feel pretty good about myself most of the time anyway... It's all about the power of positive thinking, and it's odd, because I've been into that even since I was at school, my technique for passing my G.C.S.E's was 'go in with a positive attitude, come out with a positive result' it more or less worked, I probably would have done a bit better with some revision. Some of the techniques the book describes about being happy (centering yourself in the vortex) are things that I just do. Like thinking about happy stuff all the time! And when you're sad write down things that have gone well or do make you happy, and in fact you should do that anyway. And I do all this! Not all the time but mostly. As some of my more interested readers may have noticed, I've been getting a little bit wrapped up in stuff that makes me angry, like racism, and homophobia and animal rights. But basically, I shouldn't worry, I shouldn't add to what I see as problems by either my actions or thoughts, even thinking negative thoughts about things is giving them attention that you don't want to. So don't. Which suits me, I'd much rather think of fluffy rabbits and rainbows than the state of the world, and now I feel like I can again!

So life is good, I'm happy with whatever I bring my way, it's all new experiences, everything and everyone is good. Rabbits are and always will be, especially good.

Jerusalem Times

So, I've decided....

I'm definitely not going to be a nun.

I don't know if it's something all Catholic girls worry about, or if it's just me... Although on my travels I have now encountered an Anglican lady who was also worried about becoming a roman catholic nun... So I guess I'm not alone.

What's brought all this on? I hear you ask. Well, I thought it'd be nice to stay with nuns whilst I'm WWOOFing about the place, and I've found out... They're just normal people. It might be a strange thing to discover at the ripe old age of 27, but there it is. I knew nuns at school, but you never really knew what they got up to when they weren't telling you to be quiet in the library or being lovely and friendly in the lower dining hall at lunch time. I presumed they just went off and prayed the rest of the time, probably in solitary confinement or something. I imagined they would have mass every day and just sit around with rosarys, praying. I also thought all nuns would be really good singers because of all the choir practice. Clearly I've just watched too much sister act. I just thought they'd be really, really, holy.

So anyway, when I had a conversation with the man who owned the hostel I was staying at in Wanganui I was quite surprised to hear about these go getting nuns who were really active and just did everything themselves, made vegetable gardens, didn't wear nun clothes and stuff, I was feeling quite positive.

Sister L brought me up to Jerusalem in the car the sisters have (quite new and already been in two accidents). The journey here was lovely, beautiful scenery; high hills and a meandering river in the valley below, lots of native looking plants and undulating hills with sheep grazing. Jerusalem is a tiny little place with just the odd house and then this church and the old convent. It looks quite quaint. I met Sister M, and both the nuns were lovely, although not particularly to each other, little jibes and complaints and under breath comments. This surprised me. Nuns, may not like each other.

I also found out that day, that Nuns, watch trash t.v.! That's right, whenever it's on tv, they watch Emerdale and Coronation St! I was not expecting that... Maybe songs of praise but Emerdale.... Ugh. And they watch it whilst eating... Not really into t.v.s in general anymore to be honest and I really don't like to eat in front of it, it completely stifles conversation and I get frustrated if people do try and talk over it, even if I don't like the show- which makes no sense and annoys me more. I don't want to be sucked in to these nun's bad habits.

Today, as I washed around the red wooden bits of the church, I was thinking about that fear of being a nun, and how I am now fairly convinced I don't want to be one. It almost seems like a waste. I mean, I reckon mother prays more than these nuns, and she works and does other stuff too. She's still got all the freedom of a normal life as well as the inclination to pray lots.

I just don't get why anyone would want to get rid of the God given freedom of will. I like the idea of being able to help people, but I'm pretty sure I'd do much better job of it my way rather than a nuns way. I don't think I'd have a problem with chastity or poverty, but I think I would have serious issues with obedience. It's not that I'm a disobedient person - ask mother! It's just that I hold a great deal of value on my ability to think and make choices based on my own experiences and thought processes. It struck me as I was doing work for sister M, she doesn't really listen to any of my suggestions in the garden, maybe it's because she has to be so obedient in so much of her life she just likes to make the decisions about what she can control. It's a bit like how I'm more or less vegan but find it really hard to control myself with tasty vegan food, I've used up all my will power already by not eating meat or dairy I sometimes feel like I have none left to restrain myself when it comes to chocolates and vegan cakes and suchlike, although I am getting better on my new low sugar regime. I should say less sugar really...

Anyway, I'm being obedient, and doing all my work, plus making the main meal of the day, none of which I mind doing - I should hardly be WWOOFing if I did. I'm also saying evening prayer every day... But only because I feel obliged. Which is just no good. It puts me off wanting to do it when I'm just presumed to be doing it. The last place I WWOOFed at I went to Anglican church on the two Sundays I was there, and I was literally excited about going the second time because the first time had been so good. But this evening prayer... It's just quite dull. And after a day of work, I'm pretty tired, and I love God, I think it's great that I'm alive and there's all these other animals and people and plants and mountains and rivers and what not. In fact I try and remember to thank him every day, and if I forget usually the little birds remind me, those fan tails are just so cute. So why would God want me to sit through a boring evening prayer that means so much less to me than the real world, or my own little prayers I say in my head? Today Sister M tried to jazz it up with some music from a cd. It was quite dull music. I need to get some of that cool Anglican music and send it to them...

Anyway, I went for a walk earlier to cheer myself up. There were lots of fantails frantically flying around me, I think I must have been disturbing lots of insects for them to pick off, and there were some horses I made friends with. I returned to tell Sister M of the wonderful animals and was informed that she is not an animal lover... What? But you're a nun... No, she's not an animal lover, but what would God say?! Not an animal lover, never liked them. She told me how she used to chase her sisters cat. Sigh. Nuns... Don't necessarily love Gods creation.... Makes no sense to me.

This whole blog is seeming like something of a bitch about nuns and their lives. Tsk Tsk Mary.... I'm sure they do in actuality, do lots of good... Probably... I'm just making rash judgements on people I've known for only three days. Maybe I just expected this to be a retreat like event, really peaceful with enlightened religious folk. All I know, is that so far every other WWOOFing place has been more fun, interesting, and varied than this one. The other hosts have been interesting and interested, they've asked me questions about my life and philosophies and ideals, they've taught me new skills and presented me with new experiences, I felt like I made friends. This has been very different from those experiences.

You won't see this blog entry until I've finished at Jerusalem, the nuns won't give me the wireless password. I don't know why, I'm allowed to use the internet on their computer, but Sister L said they don't give out passwords. I don't think they really understand how the Internet works, I did try to explain, but... they don't give out passwords. I've also been trying to teach Sister M to send e mails, I spent four hours with her the other day doing computer stuff. I think maybe this is God testing my patience. I think I'm doing ok, but it is a little frustrating at times, they're worse than mother on computers. A few weeks back I sent them an e mail asking to come here and they didn't reply so I phoned to ask if it was ok, and Sister L said that I didn't send my e mail address with my e mail, I explained three times that you can just click the reply button, but... I didn't send my e mail address with the e mail. Sigh. I will be showing her when she returns from Wanganui.

Post Script:
So, I've left Jerusalem now. I feel a sense of release that didn't come with the other places I left. I may have been hasty in some of my judgements. I'm not really sure. But chatting to the posties on my way to wanganui I know I'm not alone, they too find the sisters similarly set in their ways and at times frustrating. I think it may be as a result of them being old, cut off from life and things to do and watching too many soap operas. They're quite set in their ways, they don't seem to trust others in particular, they can be molly coddling and I think manipulative. Sister M. Wanted lots of help on the computer, which I was happy to give, but she would tell me to come in because it was cold or wet, when it wasn't really, and then when I said no, I was quite happy, she would insist, if I refused a second time she would usually tell me she needed help on the computer. Well, just be honest and say that the first time! I'm supposed to be helping with working on organic gardens and what not, and I don't mind helping with computers, but that can be done in the evening. I don't really know why the sisters signed up to WWOOFing as they seem reluctant to listen to ideas on sustainability and permaculture and I'm not sure they even know what permaculture is. They're really just old people who want a bit of help around the house and to feel less lonely. It's incredibly isolated there and I think they're at times scared and lonely.

Anyway, I think that's all I have to say about that.

Wonderful WWOOFing

I don't want to jump the gun here, especially as I've only done about a month of this...but I'm just having such an ab fab time, I thought I'd tell everyone about it!


I think I've always loved the outdoors. I love the countryside. I find plants and animals both fascinating and beautiful. I love the colours of nature and the fresh air. It just makes sense for me to be outdoors and pottering about. Which is mostly what I've been doing today in the form of propagating plants of all sorts. That was about it, but it does take time separating tiny little threads of seedlings from one another and replanting them. I also took some cuttings and set them up for rooting in this sandy soil mixture. It's nice to think that I'm helping plants grow, they do so much for us and I reckon hardly anyone says thank you, this is my way of saying thank you little plants for photosynthesising and looking beautiful, I shall help you to make little clone armies of yourself. Plants are great.


Basically, I think my true calling in life is to be a gardener. Now I know it's a job with like pretty much no progression, it's unstable as a career as people don't care so much about their gardens when they don't have the money to feed themselves (although technically they should as it could help to answer that problem), I know it may seem a little bit of a waste of a degree and it wouldn't necessarily allow me the standard of living that other jobs could. AND to top it all off, it would be copying my father of all people... But I think I've decided now, he's ok. I dont really worry too much about my standard of living either, as long as i can afford vegan bacon.... And I'm still jolly happy to have had my degree education as not only was uni a lot of fun (educationally speaking of course) but it was a subject that truely interested me and I wanted to know more about. A degree doesn't have to be a means to an end, it's an end in itself. On top of that I imagine parts of that course are pretty handy for gardeners. I have no answer for this potential career choices instability during times of recession, other than to say that the same could be said of many jobs and my father is still working, good old pops, always does the work of ten men apparently. And the reason there's no progression would be because I would be my own boss... Unless I started off in a team... Which would be handy as I can't drive... Hmmm, I think my family may need to discuss a team McIntosh.... I'll Skype father at some point. Anyway, so that's a potential life swerve. We'll just see what happens eh?


So gardening, it's a bit like like meditation really. I worry about thinking too much at times, but I think there may be different levels of thinking. I seem to be at a stage where I feel constantly on the cusp of something, ever closer to understanding... Something... But I'm not quite sure of what it is, I'm sure it's as a result of all this thinking. Reading about rights and welfare, reading about herbs and their properties, learning about gardening techniques, discussing politics and religion, debating environmental issues. This is all making me think in ways I've not really thought before. These are things that I have always been interested in, but either I've not found informed people to discuss them with or I've not bothered researching them. And why? Probably because I felt I was too 'busy' with life. I think there are many people who feel too busy to do what they really want, they're now driven by 'the man', consumerism. Hectic lifestyles, trying to fit everything in, drinking with friends of an evening, planning a dinner for the weekend, work 9-5 mon to fri, walk the dogs plan the wedding clean the house. Why? Why are we so busy? Do we even take time out to think over about enjoyable parts of our day? Our week? Can you really enjoy everything if you spend so much time thinking about what needs to be done next? I'm not saying I'm not guilty of the same! Crickey, I'm already excited about things I plan to do when I return to the UK. I'm dreadful at living in the present. But this wwoofing experience and travelling in general does help with that.


Strangely, I've also found that travelling in general makes me feel closer to my family. I probably Skype home more frequently than I used to phone. I send long e mails to my sister. I sometimes speak to my brothers... Some things don't change. But I also appreciate them more, and I realize from listening to so many sadly tragic life stories now from people that I have met, that I am so lucky to have my family. We may not stay in touch like some do, we're not a particularly huggy family or even always that open, but I think we are connected by respect of one another and a quiet sort of love, except mother, mothers love is very loud! With all her exclamations and Higgs and kisses whenever one of us pops home. I'm going to sound horribly girly now, but love, is just so important, it's such an essential part of life. I just read a very short book yesterday, the greatest thing in the world by Henry Drummond, very well written and concise and just so lovely to read, it's made me think about love more.



I've met quite a few people now on my travels, and so many people have struggles and tremendous difficulties in life, it almost makes me cry as I think about what people have told me. I have been so blessed with my life. I was lucky enough to be born in England, which already put me at an advantage over so many in the world in terms of opportunities. My parents love me, so do my siblings. My parents could afford to give me a good education and I've had the privilege of being able to travel without being trapped by the economics of my country, myself, or any social norms of the country I reside in. I am so grateful not to have had any horrific or emotionally challenging life altering events. As I think of the stories I've heard My thoughts turn to my friends, so many of whom have or are going through ongoing struggles. You have my utmost respect it is an honour to know such strong and clearly wonderful individuals.



This blog has turned into a bit of an emotion-fest. I don't know why... I never now what I'll write until it happens really.



In other news:


I thought I'd save some money and baggage by seeing what happens if I dont use shampoo... I wash my hair with hot water and hope that the natural oils do their own sort of cleaning and don't make it look too greasy. As my hair is fairly dry after washing with shampoos and whatever anyway it's not really been a problem, my current host Sandra seems almost reluctant to admit that my hair doesn't look bad, although she reckons it looks less shiny than cle... She didnt finish her sentence. After about a month, it's feeling a little greasy, but looks ok. The investigation shall continue....


I went to an Anglican mass last Sunday as the others were all going and I'd never been to one before. It was probably one of the best masses I've ever been to. There was some guy welcoming us all at the beginning and making jokes, I think he was like the pastors son or something. There were balloons for the kids to let go of in the mass to symbolize Jesus' ascension and allow for more jokes from the in church comedian. The order of the mass was quite different but I liked how there were always two hymns at a time, really beautifully sung music by a married couple with a guitar and piano accompaniment. The words are projected so everyone can look up to sing. And even the oldies at the mass were really getting into it even though it had a really young modern vibe. It was pretty cool. It made me want to be a priest.


After all the thought I put into the title I hardly talked about the day to day side of wwoofing, but the animal sanctuary ended just as delightfully as it started. I must return. I stayed about a week at Annemarie Cootes place to help with her garden and watch sunsets, or miss sunsets at the beach near her house. It was a wonderful time, her and Derrick were wonderfully friendly. I especially enjoyed trimming hedges and trees. I'm now at Sandra and Bruce Wilson's place, it's beautiful. I chose these hosts for their surname, as an ode to Neil, and for the fact they lived on bunnythorpe road. It all paid off. The gardens are a delight and their nursery is so extensive it looks like they have their own garden centre. I've olive picked and pressed and sampled the delights of homemade extra virgin olive oil.


My sugar free(more or less) regime continues(more or less).


I'm going to wwoof with some nuns next. I may not have easy access to the Internet.