Avena Wild Oat Sativa

While I may lament many things which I consider to be missing from my life at the moment- sleep, an 8th day each week and my bit of daily fruit- the one thing that has really tragically been forced out of late is music. I realised this last night after a horrible uni exam had me driving home at 8pm on a Tuesday night- enter 4zzz funk show, exit unhappiness. You cannot be sad to 'A Roller Skating Jam Named Saturday' by De La Soul, especially when you know all the words. (and yes John they do play that on the radio!) I have always said that music is the cure-all for the soul. If you develop a taste for music for every mood you have a great resource to draw on to energise, to calm, to make you happy, to party or to bring back memories. One of my all time favorite things is to pop in the headphones while doing something mundane like the public transport mission to uni or grocery shopping. It can make life like a movie, and what type of movie depends on the soundtrack... Ahh, the s...

I have been trying to clean a certain bit of dirt out of the very deep depths of my belly button for some 20 years now. I've tried all manner of implements and potions to budge it- to no avail. However since being pregnant, my belly button has been forced to display its inner workings to the light and thus I have discovered said piece of dirt is actually a freckle. Throughout pregnancy so far I've learnt many things about myself, all of them as enlightening as the above mentioned freckle discovery. I have even found a way to channel my bubbling passion for what I believe in through a little political activism, and now I'm going to blab on about it for a while: The battle over home birth in this country at the moment is massive and complex. The government has taken steps to give midwives more rights, autonomy and their own indemnity insurance but at the same time dictating where these may apply. If the legislation is passed midwives will not be allowed to attend home birt...

Slow death of ones self confidence is not a pretty thing. It is an evil illness to have -chronic and insidious. You can learn to live with it until one day you look back and realise the person you were is a mere shadow. It sounds dramatic and it is- it's even something worth mourning. What's worse is someone you love did this to you, you let it happen and all your friends noticed first. When I was in an unhappy, unfulfilling relationship I felt like an unwatered pot plant and no other analogy since has come close: I lived with him, I was healthy and glowing and admired at the start. Pretty soon I was getting dusty in the corner of the room. It didn't matter to which part of the house I was moved the disinterest remained and I slowly started to wilt. Thirsty for affection I drew on much of the resources that I had around me to sustain me. My friend resources eventually became exhausted too. Neglected to the limit every 6 months I would warrant some attention from him, a dos...

The first scan was a trial, for me. It was at 13 weeks and I'd felt ill or weird enough for most of them to know without a doubt I was pregnant. Around the end of week 12, in textbook manner, this horrible feeling cleared, leaving what one would imagine being a feeling of delight and wellness radiating. Instead there was a niggling fear- what if I'm not pregnant anymore? What if this little thing which has had me feeling sea sick as sitting in a dinghy tossed upon an open hormone ocean had ceased to be? And worse, would need to be removed!? No amount of logic overcomes this line of thought when your body isn't showing you what it's up to and you remember every story you've been told ending in miscarriage. At best I could just agree with myself I would have to 'wait and see' and worry if indeed there was something to worry about... I tried to think happy thoughts. We had heard his heartbeat lying on the couch at home with the midwife there, at 7 weeks, a v...

I have folded away my work uniforms today. They are on the shelf for a later date. It's not for lack of work but for lack of space inside them for the two of us. Like so many other markers of time it almost slipped by to be forgotten but today has been a quieter day than usual and I can hear the voice inside saying, it's important, write it down! I'm someone who is smart enough to know the right thing to do most of the time. It's doing it that is the problem. In fact I'm more inclined to be doing right by other people, plants and animals before myself. So now a little time out to record the more special moments of the last 5 months I was given a book of blank pages by a friend at the beginning of pregnancy. It's a nice book, but it remains blank. It didn't come with instructions but I thought to myself- can't rip the pages out it this so it's no good for writing lists... maybe it's meant to be a journal- but why? I don't consider myself as ...