Personal Space Cakes

I went into hospital for a day last week, the culmination of a period of awfulness which I won’t dwell on as it was also the grossest thing ever, which no-one needs the details of…

Since then I’ve been trying to get on the beach every day, and do some yoga every day, for the last week or so. Not just trying, but bloody determined, to inch towards health again.

Today I decided to do both at the same time. Lovely. Morning yoga on a blissfully quiet beach in the sunshine, with just my dog, the rocks and the waves.

weirdos
This is how close they were. On a totally empty beach.

Until two ‘regular tourists’ (the kind who come several times a year) came and sat two feet from me. Literally, two feet away. I was in warrior three. They could have counted the stitches on the crotch of my leggings. Personal space, anyone?

I looked over, brows raised, but they didn’t move. So I finished my sequence, grabbed my jumper, and moved myself. Breathed deep, really deep, did some ‘fierce lion breaths, yeah’ and carried on with my practice.

I thought I dealt with it quite well. They are usually nice people, and I didn’t want to return rudeness for rudeness. They are also customers so it’s best to avoid the kind of rude I would have been. (What the actual fuck? Do you want to sit ON me? Because this couldn’t be any MORE uncomfortable than it already is!)

Unfortunately, I was mad as a cut snake. My emotions are a bit all over the place as I come off the antidepressants and recover from everything else. That or I just have PMT.

Then there was the silly cow with the insane dog…but we won’t get into that one.

Yoga and the beach, the things that always centre me – did not work!

But I went out for a lovely lunch and had a moan at my other half about it. Then we discussed going on holiday – much better.

Swell Lines

Then I had a shift in the Gallery. I intended to listen to some folk and make some more delicate drop earrings. I ended up listening to a lot of P!nk (explicit versions, ha) and making some big, bold statement pieces with lots of hammering involved. And I priced them higher than usual, because I am proud of them. I don’t even care if they sell or not.

That and a kick-ass training session (which felt easy, despite or maybe because of my week off training) and some writing, and I feel I’m on a bit more of an even keel.

Wonder what’ll capsize me tomorrow?! (No. Should be good. Family time.)

Cakes? Oh yeah. Made some sick cacao and peanut butter protein balls this eve. Not really cakes. But I liked the title.

Under Idris’s Clouds

A visit to the Cross Foxes near Dolgellau, North Wales.

view from the cross foxes pubA chilled-out weekend, what a treat. The Cross Foxes is lovey, a really old farmhouse done in the usual re-done style…still got some of the old features like the big open fire, but mostly super crisp lines, wooden floors, local artwork and great views. We went straight into the bar and sat there for the rugby, a few beers and dinner (the plaice fillet and cheese & biscuits were heavenly).

a treeWhen the hail let up, I took Cymro for a nice walk. It was icy cold but we soon warmed up and did four miles. We turned up the little lane opposite the pub and walked around, then back on the main road for half a mile or so. Tabor is a tiny hamlet a mile from the pub, with a few cottages and an atmospheric old Quaker meeting house and graveyard.

There were very few signs of life apart from some chimney smoke, not even tyre tracks in the snow that day. We saw zero people apart from one angry-looking woman with a couple of dogs. Sometimes it takes me ages to decide whether to say hello in Welsh or English, but she didn’t answer anyway…

Wind-bent trees, fairy groves, bogs, granite outcrops, hail, views of Cadair Idris’s lower peak to the south (north shrouded in snow clouds) and other mountains to the north. It’s wild and beautiful country; makes Llangrannog area look a bit cutesy!

quaker house

The graveyard was full of families – the Prices, Evans’s and Jones’s of Tabor, up until about 2009. Someone lives in the house, but the meeting house itself looks fairly unloved, rather like my vestry. Fluffy snow on the way down the hill, then a slog up the grassy side of the main road. I think I could have gone a bit further and onto a parallel B-road, but I didn’t want to be out much longer with Cymro starting to limp, and it was a bit cold to get totally lost!

house

The road parallel looked like it had some wonderful houses on it too – a deep valley then steep ridge with some imposing houses set solidly back into the hill. I really fancy staying in the one pictured left.

On the way home we saw some tents on the lower slopes of Cadair Idris. Now that would have been a cold night! I wonder if they were on a Duke of Edinburgh expedition or training for something. Quite a few silhouettes walking on the ridgeline. A tough day to be heading up there; good boots and poles would be needed. Tal-y-Llyn looked cold and silent under a grey sky. I fell asleep happily until Ffos-y-Ffin. We will return when it’s not so cold, in the camper van and with all our walking gear. The air up there is so clear, and the views so starkly stunning, it always refreshes me.

lichen rocks
Lovely Lichen
corgi at the gate
There’s a Corgi at the gates!