Musings in the garden

 I have come to the conclusion that a garden is very much like marriage. You move to a grown up house and it has a garden. It may be well-kept or something to start to work on. And you want to make it a success. You either decide to keep it in the great condition you have found it, or you carefully plan a lie out, consult a professional, ask friends and family for advice, start visiting garden centres as often as you used to frequent night clubs or fashion chains. Whatever the starting point is, you are confident that you will  make it work and it will be great.

Isn't it similar to a relationship? You moved in, lived together, decided to make it official and found a new 'forever' home. Or, you dated for a long time and decided to make it official, after talking about it extensively with your friends and family, maybe even a priest. Then, after the wedding, you move in together and start to live as a family that you now are.

The garden surprises you. Lets go with the option of a garden you've inherited from previous owners. Before you know it the grass is tall to your knees, there are weeds, you can't see the soil between the flowers which are now dead and overgrown, not looking their best. It may look a little bit like the end of the honeymoon phase, when you realize that you can't even remember what the carefully written vows had actually said, but the reality is kicking in and life is somehow the same as before, only without a wedding and a honeymoon to look forward to, only bills, thank you cards, administrative tasks, and pressure about 'pattering of tiny feet'. You realize that this will take work.

You have an early success. In the first season, you try to sow some seeds, add a few new plants, have a go with strawberries. And you bring home a platter of fruit a day for a while, have a crop harvest of zucchini and tomatoes, your flowers blossom. You find out that the grass needs to be cut at least once in two weeks and that weeds grow faster when it rains. You meet slugs... But you feel optimistic. You have your own food (well, some, but it does feel good not having to buy strawberries or tomatoes). In your marriage, you sorted the post-wedding stuff, settled in your new life, learnt your new signature. You got it!

For the next year, you decide to start a new vegetable patch, grow more produce, get a bird feeder and some nice furniture. You imagine hosting barbeques, lazing on a sun lounger, living more or less outside few months in the year. Husband buys a massive grill and puts it right under the arch on which roses started to climb. You argue what matters more - a good barbeque spot, or nice rose arch? The weather is horrible and you use the garden furniture only twice. Visitors tell you they already had lots of strawberries, their kids stomp in your new flowers, and the vegetable patch is eaten up by slugs. That much for spinach and kale smoothies every morning. In your married life, you find out that fertility issues are more common than you would have thought. People who clapped you on the wedding day remind you that marriage should be done in a certain way and the way is different from what you are doing. But you won't give up, you have the best partner in the world!

Similar scenarios continue through the years. You can't rely on the crop you have hoped to get. It is endless work. So is marriage. Year after year, you look out of the window in February and you start planning what will you grow this year, forgetting that in November you swore you won't bother. In your marriage, you are very much used to your partner. If you do have kids in the end, the next few years will really give you a break from gardening, because you have no energy left. If you don't have kids, there may be pets. Or, ideally, the garden really becomes your sanctuary, a special place where you care for nature and yourself.

There are times when you want to give up. One option is concrete, decking, or artificial turf. In your marriage, that may mean the end. You may only partially give up. Stop growing things, minimal weed maintenance, necessary grass trim, just meh. You may or may not spend time in there. If you do, you notice wildlife. And you think to yourself, that at least you are rewilding... In you marriage, you may live side by side, but don't really care that much. It is what it is. You may make more effort, but is it worth it? You realize that gardening isn't really for you. Same with marriage. But you have a garden now. And a husband. So you get along with it. Possibly, your garden thrives. You make it yours. Change it in a way that works for you. It is a beautiful place. In that case, congratulation, you are in a happy marriage, if you are still going with the metaphor. 

I have these thoughts in my head after weird winter, cold spring, heatwave, and a very wet summer. Our garden looks like a jungle. Behind the fence, some weeds are the size of a small tree. Most strawberries rotted while being eaten by slugs. We have one zucchini and tree carrots. But, whatever. It  is what it is. Relationships, just like nature, move in circles, not in a line.

North East Pilgrimage

 After booking a camping spot in the Northumberland, I was glad to find a big choice of destinations in Britain's Pilgrim Places book. I've soon discovered that a week-long stay with  my family won't allow me to see all of them, but we did manage some and they were great.

To me, pilgrimages are about walking and exploring, but in the Northeast, you can't ignore the saints. They are in all of the stories about the old times of Christianity, stories entwinned with the environment, sea, old legends, and castles. You just know that you are in a place full of history where people lived for a long time and have strong connection with the elements. And you just take it in and learn some new things on the way.

Two names you will hear a lot are St Aidan and St Cuthbert. Stories involving them link places on and off the land.

We've visited Bamburgh and St Aidan's Church, a beautiful old building with impressive sea view. It is easy to spot the old wooden beam on which St Aiden allegedly lay dying. It is now by the ceiling to prevent enthusiasts from chipping away souvenirs and keepsakes. But this place is also important for the story of Grace Darling, a young girl who helped to save lives of 13 shipwrecked people from the Farne Islands in 1838.

After much searching, and troubles from grumpy land owners, we have managed to locate St Cuthbert's Cave. A slab of overhanging sandstone, on a top of a hill, it is a nice place to visit and then continue walking higher up, admiring the views. It is believed that in the 870s St Cuthbert's body was hidden in the cave by monks while fleeing Viking raids. The cave is inaccessible at the moment, we didn't see the graffiti described in the book, but altogether, it was a good walk.

Holy Island is a much easier to find destination, very popular by tourist, connected to the main land by a road that floods twice in a day, so times of visit need to be carefully planned. Once there, it is a place full of history, legends, stories, and, of course, saints. The Lindisfarne Priory dominates the views as you circle around the island, so even without queuing and paying entrance fee, we saw quite a lot and enjoyed this very special place.

Last of the pilgrimage list, Inner Farne Island, was the most remarkable trip. We've managed to find a free place on the boat, not easy in covid times. The hour long stay on the island was devoted to bird watching, the chapel and surrounding space were closed to visitors at the time. St Cuthbert used to live on the island and was considered a guardian of the land and birds, because he banned people from hunting them. The island is busy with birds and visitors, but there are glimpses of what solitude may feel like, if, by a chance, you were the only person left on the island.

After the island visit, we were taken around the other islands in the group, saw more birds, seals, and the place where Grace Darling and her family used to live and where the famous lives saving operation happened.

This Summer Holiday

 As many other people, we didn't even bother looking into international travel this year. Just going somewhere within UK now feels like a treat. Camping used to be an easy addition to our schedule, something to do over a long weekend. Now it became the main event. Finding a free camping space was as difficult as a search for a truly reasonably priced flight to Europe in pre-pandemic years. Packing the car was as exciting as a trip through the airport check-in, security, shops and gate queue for dear child. All of us felt special for simply leaving the home and sleeping somewhere else for the first time in more than a year.

We have spent a week in the Northumberland. And it was great. Dear child had the best time, because the school year had only just ended and we could see the thrill from the freedom, the long weeks of free time stretching ahead. I still remember that feeling... But being around the beautiful part of the world, discovering new places and fulfilling a dream of meeting puffins was great for us all. 

Back home, the old routines are calling, on top of all the unpacking, washing, cleaning, sorting... And the worries about how to fill the rest of the summer break while maintaining some level of work and project accomplishments. The usual parenting dilemmas.

However, I have learnt a few things. Socializing in covid times is possible, even easy when outdoors. Investing in a good tent is a very good idea. So is finding a good dog sitter, because camping with dogs is fun, but you can't explore as much as you can without the dog. My nagging feeling that lockdown is too comfortable for me and I should shake up my routine and leave the house, garden and sourdough starter, because they will cope without me for a while, was true. I will need to find more to do, change direction, leave housewifing. It is time. Yes, lockdown helped me to publish a book and build a good writing routine, as well as maintain very good yoga practise and meditation routine, but it is time to meet the world. The trip reminded me about the big bright world out there. I knew it was there, I've known it and travelled it extensively, but as soon as I finally started making plans for my possible future as the child and dog grew and became less demanding, the pandemic started and everything was paused.

I have already written about the fact that I am a loner, that I liked lockdown. But since the spring, after kids went back to school, I started thinking that I am almost hiding behind it all. I was needed for home school. But I also discovered how busy I can be around the house. Guess what? I can organize myself better, get husband of his ass and help, and if everything won't done to perfection the world won't end. So, after unpacking and settling, I will start my next adventure. Because change is good. Seize the day...

Climate Talk

 Getting ready one morning last week, I got annoyed by the climate talk on the news. It wasn't the first time. The mentions of Glasgow Summit that will happen is always presented as something great, big, fantastic. The prime minister uses it as a filler to pretend that he cares. But what it will be about?

I still have the Paris Summit in my memory, even though I didn't really follow the news about it. But the endless discussions, voting, tension, made it so interesting to watch. And when they all clapped at the end, people thought that something will finally start happening. How naïve. Nothing ever happens after these summits. The attendees make endless talk, they reach an agreement, vaguely create goals that sound nice, put them in a future distant enough for them to be out of politics, positions, retired; they shake their hands, go home, world forgets until the next summit comes and it all repeats itself.

I am getting more and more irritated and impatient. Besides pointless summits, we are often presented with the suggestion that we can buy our way out of the disaster. Once we all buy the electric car, replace our boiler for something more expensive, insulate our homes, we will all be better off. As long as we, little citizens, keep paying and spending, we will all be fine. How will all the things be produced? How many resources, how much energy? Where will the power for the magic car come from? Oh, I forgot to mention the super expensive solar power blocks I am meant to buy once I insulate the roof. There will be grants, of course. It will all be connected, you see? But how will the things be made, transported, put together? How will that affect the climate? Nature? Biodiversity?

The little less interesting message, that consuming less, wanting less, being more frugal, gets lost in the big shiny profit making messages. How many people believe it? How many care? Lots do, but they feel overwhelmed, intimidated, give up before even trying anything.

Hearing Prince Charles speaking that morning reminded me about my childhood, when all these messages and signs were already there, deeply unfashionable. Now it is at least cool to recycle, take your own bag to the shop and drink tap water from your own bottle. Of course, somebody can sell you stylish recycling bin, nice bag and a personalised bottle. I remember being a little girl, worrying about the future, thinking about how to protect it. Back then, I cared most about the animals that were disappearing. I still do, but there are so many more issues. It is all nice that I can save energy by washing my laundry at 30. But will the great washing powder affect marine life? It's not just climate, it is about everything.

The only people talking sense right now are Extinction Rebellion, but they are also making themselves unpopular with their protests and therefore harder to be listened to. I get the message, I know they feel they have to wake us up, there is no time to waste, but I am also sad that it can't be better. I feel frustrated that they can't get themselves heard and help us to do something instead of discussing how to protest 'properly'.

When the pandemic started, there was so much talk about how we will change our way, our mindset, our life style. But as long as money is the only measure of profit, endless growth the goal, and the environment without value if it can't be made into fast profit, I don't see a way out. I proudly do my little thing, I know I am not perfect, but I can't stop to worry. I always remember the saying 'We inherited this planet from our parents and borrowed it from our children' and feel sad about the state of the world our kids will have to deal with. Because, unless we stop kidding ourselves, it will only get worse.

And before I have managed to publish this post, there were the European floods, Chinese floods, fires in the USA continue and the UK has a heathwave. But, yes, they will talk about it in Glasgow and we will all be fine...

About Grey Rainbow

 My book has been out for a while and the process of marketing is... daunting. It really is as hard as I thought it would be, as every single indie writer had said it would be, as the general public assumes it would be... I wasn't the one exception, the lucky one, the one who managed to get it right.

But I have published a book. I am a writer. I do what I love to do. And that matters.

Busy editing my second book (which, actually is the first book I've ever finished!), it is easy to somehow forget about the first one. It is done, the files are saved and backed up, the paperback proof is in the box (because I can't open it and find yet another coma or word out of place!). But the interesting thing is: I still think about my characters.

The book is called Grey Rainbow and it is a mixture of what I know: communism, growing up during its end, life behind the iron curtain and life after the iron curtain, family dynamics, Austria. I took what I know and created a story inspired by it, but it is not a book about me, my characters are fictional. But, the main character has lots of me in her. Of course she does, she grew up in the same town, had a difficult mother (not the same like me but similar), found out that she doesn't belong where she was born, has endless curiosity, is independent and strong... So, I have a bond with her. And because of her, I believed in the book and in the story and have decided that it would be my first published book. Because it felt right.

I tried literary agents, but had no success. Women's fiction is tricky. It is very vague. It is big. Women love to read and love stories. BUT. If you are writing women's fiction in Britain, it should be British. I have read many articles about how difficult it is to bring foreign stories to the UK. People don't read many translated books. Sure, there are plenty of stories, plenty of good material here. But the whole world is outside. OK. There is Ireland, USA, India. Also, lately, Africa. Let's say, there are the historical ties, the places that click, places that are not too foreign.

Is a book that happens in the early 2000s current or historical? Who knows. It is yesterday to me, not remembered by many. Europe at the time isn't too interesting, not for Britain. I wrote my foreign book about foreign people in English, but it was still too 'not what we are looking for at the moment' for the traditional houses. Of course. It was written by someone who doesn't really belong here or there, who had never really belonged anywhere. Which makes me a perfect indie talent, right?

So I set to work and self published. Because I can't make my Petra - the main character of Grey Rainbow, different. She is a Czech girl who stubbornly went against the tradition and did her own thing, found her home in Austria, opened her own business and found love she didn't look for. I can't cut this story different, make it more marketable. I don't even know how to market it properly. What book is it most similar to? Well, I don't know. I don't write what the market wants, I write what I feel. Which agent or publishing house would fit best? Who am I to know? My name is unknown, I don't have connections, I didn't live in the UK until 2007. It is my home, but in the eyes of many people, I am not from here. So how do I get my foot in the door? I just build my own entrance.

The book is out. The pandemic will be a memory of editing, editing, proof reading and more editing. The frustration that was cover art. The discovery of the fact that to create an eBook wasn't easy, but paperback was way harder and I should've really started with that one. And the day that I pressed the final Go For It button and declared myself and author will also always flutter in my mind when people talk about the pandemic and lockdowns in the future. The world didn't care. I did. And I became a writer.

And then it was quiet. It still is. But the book is there. And I am busy editing the other one. But my characters keep coming back to me. I think about them. About how they are now. What are they up to. I offer possibilities. I worry that I am too cruel. I remind myself that such thing as happily ever after doesn't exist. Spoiler alert (sort of): we leave Petra when she is happy, because she is in love. She is in the phase of a relationship when you think that it will always be that good, because this is it and the rest of the world got it wrong, but you found gold. But it must change. Yes, of course they are still together. But I have to throw things at them, they can't just hold hands and smile today, since 2003. My mind offers ideas, situations, solutions. I see them how they are now. I even wonder how they would cope with the pandemic. Not how I would write about it, I think about them like I think about other people I know.

Do I write a sequel? I didn't plan it. But the characters, to me, are very real and special. They made me a writer. I lived with them for a while, thought about them a lot (not as much as about dear child but definitely more than about husband). What happens to character when the book is done? You either write a series, or you keep thinking about them, don't you? Now there is a question for the writing community!

Anyway, the book is available here: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Grey-Rainbow-Lucinda-Real-ebook/dp/B08PPNYRS8/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=lucinda+real+grey+rainbow&qid=1623944002&sr=8-1 

 Check it out and have a great day!

Power of Silence

 I went away again. No blogs, no social media, no communication. I just didn't feel like talking. Not long ago I was thinking that I was starting to figure out how to talk to  people online, but my timeline on twitter went silent again.

Why? Who knows. I didn't have an easy life at home. Relationship went through a rocky path. I wasn't in a mood of pretending that everything was rosy. It just it what it is... I've made my bed, I will lie on it... As I got over it, my vaccination date arrived and with it another crisis.

I reacted quite badly to the vaccine and had spent all last weekend in bed, shivering, in fever. Then I got better, just tired. So I did what I had to do, bare minimum, and the rest could wait. Including talking to the world. It clearly doesn't miss me, which suits me just fine.

But there is a book to edit, another to promote, world to conquer... And people are generally nice, why not engage?

What kept me sane and calm, besides yoga, breathing exercises and meditation (or attempts to meditate), were crafts. I was sitting, listening to radio, knitting. Then I tried making bracelets. And it was so calming, taking bracelets that never worked or fell apart, and giving them new life. Unlike knitting, the result came much faster. And with the finished project, the energy came back. I want to show them to the world, and while I am at it, why not talk a little?

While crafting, I stumbled upon a radio play Portrait of a Lady, and loved listening to it. The uneasy life story of the heroine and all the other characters suited my present disillusion. It remained me why stories matter, why they are worth to be told. No happy ending. At certain age, we don't want happy endings, they aren't believable. Sad or open endings are easier to comprehend, I believe.

Manchester Pilgrimage

 I gave myself a book as a birthday present. Britain's Pilgrim Places is a beautifully presented book  full of detailed descriptions and photos. It also has codes that let you download the trip onto a map in a phone. I've recently bought my first smartphone and this feature was a revelation. I am also a person who likes know where I am going, tend to get lost, prefer to have a map (and can manage to get lost with the map). And I love walking. A pilgrimage is a walk with a purpose. It doesn't have to be spiritual. It can. I trekked in the Himalayas and it felt profoundly spiritual, without it being a pilgrimage.

What I wanted was an inspiration for walks and this book has plenty. I have immediately found the pilgrimage nearest to me - Manchester 1 Day Pilgrimage from Eccles parish church to Manchester's cathedral. Taking advantage of the nice weather and the fact that nothing was planned last Sunday, I went for my first pilgrimage. It was great.

The book probably offers much nicer and better walks, but I enjoyed this one anyway. It was very convenient. I took the metrolink to Eccles, opened the map app and started walking. The route took me from Eccles to Salford and then to the centre of Manchester. On the way, I passed Salford Cathedral, St Mary's Church and St Ann's Church. I didn't visit any of the churches, some were closed due to the pandemic, other had a mass happening. It didn't really matter.

What mattered was that I had a chance to explore Manchester in a way I usually wouldn't. I would never decide to walk from Salford to Manchester. The walk wasn't too attractive, I have walked past industrial estates and warehouses and alongside busy roads, but I felt like I was reclaiming the city. These places often feel remote, closed. But the map told me to go and I could see there was a footpath, I took it, followed the river Irwell and made my way to familiar, busy streets of Manchester. I now feel that I know the city I live in better. When I drive or take the metrolink, I never realize how close these parts are, how well connected. I would never have thought about taking a detour to Salford Cathedral. I passed the city centre churches and the cathedral many times, but now I looked at them and connected them together. The city centre is changing fast and it is nice to see that some old buildings are still there, marking the passing time.

I've ended my weekend with a feeling of accomplishment. I've made it. It was a small pilgrimage, nothing special, but it was a start. I will find the next one soon. And the effect of a quiet walk, thinking time and time to myself was predictably good. Can't wait for the next pilgrimage.