Bullets Today

I feel as though I have to type really fast to post this before it all goes pear-shaped again.
I won't bore you with details but OMIHAT! have I had problems with Internet access!
Hopefully, my computer guy will get a handle on it soon for me.
In the meantime - bullets:

* I have actually started pilates.
To get the full import of that statement, I need to tell you that I've been talking about it for (blush) a couple of years. Yes - years!
* I'm off shortly for a coffee date with DS1 - a rare and much prized thing.
* Yesterday we had the final get together of our Patriarchs study (Beth Moore). Its been a wonderful ride with a great bunch of women.
We drank coffee, ate too much junk and shared how God had impacted us through this study.
PS - yesterday was one of those winter Cape Town days that make you dizzy with joy.
* This afternoon is full of promise too - its Watching Day for Lulu's tap dancing class. (Lulu is GD 3 aged 7) which means that doting relatives can go and see how brilliantly she is doing.
And:
* Lynette is down in Cape Town and is coming to visit with me later on. We will drool over the view together; drink tea; hopefully eat something (yay WW!) and talk the hind leg off a donkey!

Can't wait for it all!

View Point

There's a place in our garden that lends itself to just standing (or sitting) and staring.

Its just SO peaceful and beautiful that its easy to lose all sense of time there.

Here are a couple of pics of the spot and the view from there.

The Man (featured in a couple of the pics), father of 4 adult children, is doing early Father's Day by reading the Sunday Times - probably depressing himself beyond measure since the papers are full of Malema and his loud voiced demands for nationalising everything in sight.
And taking land without any payment (his new thing).

What is it with guys and having to read, listen to, download, the news . . . . alllll.the.time?!
I swear they think if they miss one, they will miss the end of the world or something.
One of life's great mysteries to me.

The later part of Father's Day involves son no 1 with his wife and their 2 small girls coming here for lunch and then all of us will meet the rest of the family at daughter no 2 for a family jol around the fifth birthday of the only grandson.

It should be cheerful chaos.

Here are some more shots of "the place" . . .

Light at the End

Scary huh!?
This is how a couple of the rooms in my home look right now for two reasons:

1. We have bought new furniture because of the alterations, so the old stuff still has to find a home.

2. And because of the leaking roof things have had to be temporarily moved out of harm's way.

Its messy and frustrating, all higgledy piggledy. I often can't access the things I need. And sometimes, in all the confusion, I don't know where things are. But there are some really good pieces of furniture there.

I couldn't help thinking it is a picture of what's going on in my head. There's a lot of good stuff in there, but its in a mess, difficult to access and I often am not even sure what's there!

Anyone who has been reading Allie Chilling for any length of time will know that I have travelled this road, on and off, for ages. However I do feel that this time I am going to find a way through this - and this is why:

www.MyCube4Change.com - It gives handles on so much more than just my issues. Check it out for yourself.

I am signing up with them and plan to share the process on this blog over the next while - I have painted a fairly detailed picture of my frustrations to make a starting place for this process so I can track it.

Join me if you like, I welcome the company.

PS: The roof guy came late today: he says there is hope for the roof but we have to wait for good weather. So that will be at least 4 more days with buckets and towels.

We can do that!

Simple

Isn't this sweet?

In the midst of the chaos in my home

and the swirl of thoughts and desires in my thinking

this funny little wall hanging

just seems so simple

and peaceful . . .

Tiny Roar

This is what the new part of my lounge looks like right now:

I am gutted
There have been three attempts by the original builder to waterproof the new section of roofing but, obviously it ain't working

In fact its worse than ever: pools of water everywhere.

I am a woman of few towels and every one I own is spread out to soak up the wet.

Ominously too, some of the glorious beechwood flooring I was so excited about, is starting to warp.

Anyway.

About the "finding my voice" thing -

As Stroller, I am going to gird up my loins and face my stuff.

Cos Stroller is cool that way.

Moving along . . .

For years I have taken a back seat when it comes to decorating the house.

The man has very strong tastes and views - mine always clashed with his.

So I backed off, did the "if it means that much to you, you just do it your way" thing that I do, and left it.

A couple of months ago, I suddenly decided "No more, I want to have the say in decorating our home"

I approached DH, expecting total opposition.

To my amazement, he instantly agreed!

Since that happened, many changes have been made in the house and the astonishing thing is, now we find our tastes have merged!

Its like a miracle.

Well, it IS a miracle.

And I have learned something very valuable

I remembered this very morning that I used to hate winning at games when I was little.

I either felt sorry for my opponent

Or felt hostility from the losers and so decided it was just easier to not win.

Because, after all, it didn't matter that much to me

And it seemed to matter an awful lot to them.

Did the "ag, it doesn't really matter" spread to a lot of other areas?

Did it then become habitual not to stand up for my own brainchildren, esteeming them less valuable than those of others?

It sure would explain a loss of voice!

Oh -

On that note (pardon the pun!)

Yesterday I was sing-praying in the car

Do you ever do that?

Somehow when there is just one thing you want to ask the Lord, its easier to sing it

(If you didn't know that, try it

You just sing the words, the tune will come by itself.)

Anyway, lovely little tunes emerged

I thought: "Oh no, I will forget them for sure!" but instead - pulled over and recorded my songs on my BB.

I have a small timid voice (go figger!), tuneful though, as I heard on the playback.

One day I'm going to find a place where I can shout

Really loud

Sing, really loud

I don't even know if I can do that

But I'm going to try.

Own Voice

I remember sniggering pityingly about the Beatles drivelling on about "finding themselves"
It sounded so self absorbed and what my Mom would have called "precious"
That was way back in the 60's I think
Some of you may remember that they found a TM (Trancendental Medidtation) guru and took off to the Far East in their efforts to "find themselves"

As an equally self centred teen at the time, I obviously didn't have clue what they were on about.
At that age you don't know that you need finding
Life, after all, centres entirely around you

Now I understand more what they may have been seeking
I am not lost spiritually - I have found what (or Who) I was seeking
But I am seeking something else:
My own "voice," perhaps expresses it best.

There is a sense of something inside me that hasnt seen the light of day
Something creative
Something free
Something more fun than I usually am
Something of the child that got lost in grown-upness

I am on a quest to let that out
To let my own voice be what it is
(Never mind if its not what I, or others, wanted it to be.)
To accept and appreciate my paintings, writings, sculptures - whatever - even if they don't fit in my "box" of my expectations.
To recognise that finding your own voice means accepting a voice that is, by defintion, not the same as everyone's else's.

And that is not only ok
But is the very thing being sought.

Identity Crisis - Fessing Up

It's not going to work

I will never be able to maintain the "mystery identity" of the previous post.

And honestly, I'm not sure I even want to.

So, blowing my cover with record speed:

Stroller = Allie (of Allie Chilling)

Actually I missed Allie so much I tried CPR but Blogger decided I was not to be trusted with her any more.

They won't even let me in to talk to her.

Bummer!

So, cunningly, I have brought her here under an alias - "Stroller"

Do NOT tell Blogger

There's no telling what they might do if they found out.

In the meantime, I'm going to try to track down old friends and exert emotional pressure on them to visit me here.

And also face the horrible thought of having to start my visitor counter from the beginning again!

All the aches and pains of starting over are nothing in comparison with the knowledge that I'm leaping back into the writing waters and hopefully, reconnecting with blogbuds

Next time I get fed up with blogging and threaten to shut down, please would some kind soul remind me of this exercise!?

PS: I have a sneaky suspicion that Blogger has spies out - they seem to be punishing me with weird spacing and reverting to the old way of doing pics (which means I couldnt make tiny little allie/stroller pics for you)

Grrr!

Coming In To Land

Earth stroller.
It fits.

I'm an ambler, a "stopper and smeller of the roses" kinda gal.
Mostly I like it that way.

Having this new blog is a bit like walking into a room full of strangers.

Pretty cool in one way - after all, no one knows me.
I could be anyone: rocket scientist, famous movie star, drug addict or bag lady.
I could be writing from a prison, a palace or a nuclear plant. . . .

And then of course, the room might not be full of strangers: it might be empty.
And I, talking to the bare walls.

But you know, even that is better than not writing at all.
I've tried not writing.
It doesn't work.