Thursday, 13 November 2014

Weekend Treasures 1 and 2!

 Here are my thrifting finds! These are the titles that I discovered the the previous two weekends. Yes, I know that one again the weekend is approaching but I've been getting my room ready for a new shelf so that my books wouldn't be homeless. I love discovering new books and thrifting is one of the ways I do so. The books here are so many different genres and obviously by different authors. I love finding books in these ways because I've always had trouble finding books to read. This might be due to the categories that exist in book shops or it might be something else entirely unknown to me. Finding books is charities is a different process they are all placed together non-fiction, historican fiction, fantasy novels and novels which I wouldn't know in what category to place. I find that I have a passion for books in many different categories and this is wonderful.


The other thing I look out for while thrifting is cards of all different kinds. Now with the festive
season coming up there are many Christmas cards out. this way I'm all able to discover many different designs, themes and variety rather then walking into a card shop. the other thing is that these cards are unwanted and if they hadn't come to the charity they would have been thrown out. so i'm not just interested in finding new things but I'm also interested in giving new life to things others would see as waste. to me there is immense value in them and they'd deliver my message of caring and love to the recipient. my best friend and i love to send each other cards and the wait is wonderful. knowing that there is a card out there traveling to me. its a simple thing that means so much. we don't like to do emails they are impersonal and even if the content is creative the format can't be. Cards are a visual form and can communicate with the person in another way. The picture tells a story and the words inside add to that. Card sending isn't just about friendship its also a way of supporting the national postal system. I feel that although card sending might be regarded as a dying tradition it should be taken up again. Its a wonderful way of showing somebody you care and also supporting a very valuable service.


It turned out that two of the cards I had picked out were hand crafted by women who live in Nairobi, Kebira slums and they hard make these cards from waste paper and this way they are able to earn an income. I would have never come across these if it wasn't for my thrifting trips and I was able to find these beautiful cards that are part of such a heartfelt protect. I will know now that when I'm in need of a card I can get one and support a great cause. Just doing a simple thing like buying a card can go towards helping somebody out and thats a great thing. They have a website and now selling Christmas themed cards. http://www.kiberapaper.org/uppmer/

 My thrifting trips don't just help me make new book discoveries, buy cards, give unwanted thing a revived life but everything I spend goes to help a great cause. There is the Grove charity that supports people people living with cancer in 3 counties in my area of Hertfordshire. The other charity is called Kadect Deaf Children that help set up another children's deaf school in Gambia like the first one in the charity has been able to set up in Kashmir.

Monday, 10 November 2014

Ale pale, dark, tall and short!

 Ale is a big English tradition lets start there. I myself love ale and my family does too. Going to the shop to purchase it as you can see from some of the photos is a wonderful experience. There are so many different ones to choice from. Each time we get something different and no 2 ales are ever alike.

The offer in the photos is in Morrison on Hatfield road. There's tons of variety as i said before and this offer gives you the chance to same a lot of different ales at a really good price.
 As can be seen in the photos ales are also about a work of art. They look magnificent and beautiful lining the shelves. These are golden ales and the brand I've tried is Wychcraft (on here it can be identified by the title gold). I've tasted most of the Wychcraft ales and I've always enjoyed them thoroughly.

Others on this shelf I'm not familiar with but I plan to try in the very near future. I love discovering new things I enjoy.



 One of the ones I'm really wanting to try out is this new Wytchcraft brew. Its a new one thats just come out. Yes there's a wytch on the label and i think thats super cool :D. I'm hoping to sample it very soon and write all about it.


There is also a similar offer in Asda but it offers a different variety to the ones Morrison does. There are interesting ales that I've picked out from there too.



Mexican night!

My mum and I love making stuff together. This is the Mexican meal we made last week.

We bought corn tortillas didn't make them from scratch. But we made chilli tomato sauce from scratch and it was delicious. In the English style of things we had dark ale mature cheddar cheese and beetroot, carrot and cabbage salad.

It was a lovely delicious meal. All in all I had 3 and it was so tasty i really could have kept going.

Below you can see the the layout of the table. Just now realise there's both dark ale and red wine.

It was a wonderful meal and we would definitely have it again soon because my family loves having a variety of meals and dishes from all over the world.

I'm sorry if the pics make you hungry :) take it as a sign you need to get yourself some yummy Mexian food and make a night of it. 



Sunday, 2 November 2014

Significant Notes


I've started a notebook that I plan to fill with thoughts. When I say thoughts I don't exactly mean any odd junk that comes to me. There is focus and significance to it. I would defer from calling it a process since a process is methodical and calculated and this isn't. What I write inside is uncensored and unprocessed.

In this notebook I write about myself but this has only been able to happen because I've accepted every single piece of my life puzzle. I used to hate my past - it was filled with hurt and betrayal. There was so many things I rejected about myself and so many things that I had happened to me that I couldn't physically acknowledge. There was always half the puzzle and there was all the other pieces I put in the box. I didn't want to see them again and I wouldn't acknowledge them as part of me. They were all small parts of who I'm and fit somewhere within me. Essentially without those pieces I had holes that I could fill with nothing else no matter how hard I tired or pretended they weren't there. I lived in denial of those pieces. They had so much emotional, mental and physical power over me. All I wanted to do was hide them and yet they never left me wherever I went. I felt their burden even if they didn't stalk or patrol the corridors of my mind. I thought myself powerless to their dictatorship and I always assumed that they'd be with me forever. One day that changed.

I started to think positively about myself and about all that had been. It was a turbulent and sad story but so what. It was my story. I think it was the moment I claimed ownership of that story I began to see myself different. The past no longer had control over me. There was no soldiers patrolling my mind. I could tell because when I thought about my past and its events - it no longer troubled me and it no longer brought me to a sense of betrayal. I though of all the things that had happened and all the things I had survived. It was my history and no more then that. It was something that I owned not that owned me. My past didn't define me and it didn't defy me. The past died and nothing is able to resurrect it - or change that. Its like the wars in which people died and their deaths can't be undone. I learned that I shouldn't live in the past and I shouldn't re-live it every single day. I believe that was the moment I realised that as much as I had hated it, it was the very thing who made me exactly who I'm. It probably seems and sounds very simple and straight forward but the emotional and physical journey isn't like that and rather its like a snake shedding its old skin. I had to shed off my past and not let it suffocate the life out of me. The life I had preserved all the way through depression.

Once I made this journey and gone through the shedding somehow without realising it, the past started to pour on the page. I came to it in many different ways - I opened my mind and let things float around. I caught those floating memories one after the other and put them on the page. I started with one and then I had pages. It wasn't therapy writing - no it was simply poetry about my past. The things I had seen, felt and heard. I was taking myself back to the roads I had long ago walked on. I remembered many things and unearthed things I didn't know I had in me. Memories that I didn't consciously know that I had and I surprised myself. I made those ideas into poetry I wrote sometimes as the child living in the moment and at others as myself reflecting within. They are all still only contained in the notebook I wrote them in.

What I've been doing lately is connecting with my past. I didn't really know what I was doing. One day after an exercise in my creative writing class we were set a task to free write (in the present tense) a moment or several moments we remember from our young adult years. Of course I wrote about depression since It occupied my young adult wholly and spanned beyond that as well. It was a powerful moment - when I wrote about myself and I felt good. Not in a selfish way but in the way that I wasn't denying myself of what had been and by putting pen to paper I was acknowledging that. I wasn't keeping my past silent I was giving it recognition and I was saying this has happened to me and this is who I'm. Its a moment I'm never going to forget. I might have already forgotten the date and the day but not the moment. After this I made a list for myself about things I wanted to write about (that had occurred to me during my young adult years) and I did. I wrote and I came up with more things I could write about and I did write. It was powerful and it felt intense. I read it to myself after. I was connecting with things inside me and accepting all the parts that I had kept in the box. I let them fall into space.  Indeed after having written these I had courage and power to connect with even more deeply with things. Its like all the barriers I had put on myself were destroyed and I felt no shame or no denial. There was no hint of these elements within me and I wrote with my pen constantly on the page - my mind didn't try to cut anything out. My mind didn't go back on itself and correct me. My mind didn't tell me that I shouldn't write these things - Instead I felt my body tell me that I should write them and I should keep going. That was what I did and shall keep doing as long as I feel that need within me.

I'm not embrassed to tell you what I wrote about in this notebook of mine. I wrote about friendship, falling out, bullying, crush (in reference to boys), self expression, violence and fighting (at my high school), sex and dreams (those in the night time). Those are some of the things I wrote about. My pen didn't leave the page and I didn't tell myself off. Sometimes I read what I wrote afterwards but as of my last entries I've not read those yet. I feel that there's so much that I have to get down - an impulse and an instinct to get to the notebook and get it on the page that I have no time to read what I've written. I can also say that I keep making lists and well if something entries my mind It wouldn't be long before I get it down on the page.


A Poem: Pavements Lead to Places


Dim rooms
shadows on windows and floors

Tinted cries

girls in costumes
girls in thighs
guys in suits and
obsessions with ties

Cold breathing
corridors
smoke sinking
mismatched shoes
positioned on
grim floorboards
absent footsteps
long at deaths door

dim
laughter and cries

mirror mirror
reflecting blood  
and flickering lashes
grown over empty eyes
lipstick coating
sadness

empty coats
in full rooms
 skin coloured rugs
laying over creaking floors

Flesh and Blood
suffocating in
 vampire make up
tight tops
replacing skin
gold chains
adorn transparent necks

solid walls
enclose
girls made of sheets
who can’t eat cakes
or buy books
they can talk
to crawling insects
who can’t report
stories heard
and walls have
no
ears
mouths

futures paused
mid-tune
slowly rewinding back to
dependency
can’t walk alone
on pavements
giggle at movies
be popcorn kissed

Commodities bought across
the Transatlantic
new ribbons new flesh
unbroken bones

rooms
give shape
to tattered lives
marks on walls
are silent
symbols
of life

radios have voices
but
listen – feel our own
let it
unwrap
 painted exterior
bare liberated
Flesh and Blood