Before I'm 61

What do I want to do in this year between 60 and 61?

I really don't know.  And I wonder whether one should one have goals or is that just setting oneself up for failure.

I do want to finish my Apiculture course.But other than that, I don't know.

I do know that I want to continue getting mentally and emotionally stronger. Over the past fifteen months I have come to realise that I have set myself up for so much pain in my life up to now. I didn't believe that I deserved anything, and put others first - until the repressed feelings welled up beyond my ability to push them under.  Sometimes they exploded into anger (often at the wrong person, such as my beautiful children or my wonderful husband.)  Sometimes they overwhelmed me and pushed me down into the depths of depression; a dozen or so times, to the very edge of suicide. The only thing that stopped me was the awareness of how my deliberate death would affect these beloved people.

With professional help, I've learned to manage myself to a far greater degree than ever before. I've reached the point now that I realise the next step has to be excluding toxic situations and people from my life in a way that does not leave me feeling angry or worthless.

A while back I resigned from a committee as a consequence of realising I was not the sort of person the committee needed. I explained my reasons clearly, however the assumption was made that I had really resigned because one committee member had been incredibly rude to me. That person apologised abjectly, and suggested that I could rejoin the committee. I responded in a way I had never been able to before. I accepted his apology and went on to reiterate the real reason for my resignation. I felt so good! I didn't abuse him, nor did I belittle myself by down-playing the rudeness - I focused on the issue. I want to live that way more.

In the past year, also, I find I have reached the point where friends have started dying of age related diseases. I have lost a friend who misinterpreted something I said, and who chose not to accept my explanation.

I need to reassess my attitude to friendship. To accept that people move on with their lives, and no one has to keep pretending a friendship they no longer value.  I don't have to do it, and nor do they. They can walk away from me and I can walk away from them. They may die before me, or I may die before me.

In the end, the only person who can always be there for me, is me. I need to spend this next year learning to treat myself kindly and generously.

Ageing

It's a cold September wind.
The old tree creaks.
Hips creak in sympathy,
aching, stabbing.


I creak and am both
glad and sad
that I will not live
as long as the rimu.

Spring

Spring is definitely here in Kauroa.

 Time for motorbikes and grandchildren.

 The bees are busy.

 They've survived the winter well - there has always been food available from tagasaste (tree lucerne), gorse and buttercups, but pollen varies in nutritive content from plant to plant, so they are glad to see new sources.

I love scything. It is useful: the entrance to the beehive needs to be clear for the bees to easily fly back in; and the trees grow better if they don't have long grass growing underneath competing with the tree roots.

 But scything is so much more than that. To do it successfully you have to move correctly and when you finally get it, it is like dancing and meditating all in one, but with a satisfyingly productive end point.

It's clean - no petrol fumes -  and peaceful - just a gentle swishing, over which the bees and birds are easily heard.It works muscles and stretches my body in ways that otherwise only happens when I occasionally do some yoga. I have never found a way of 'exercising' that I enjoy but I love this work.

 It's spring!

Keeping Healthy Bees Workshop

Yesterday I went to a workshop entitled "Keeping Healthy Bees" in Raglan. Thirty people attended and we were treated to a day packed with knowledge and ideas. It cost each attendee $10.

From Wellington we had Rex Baynes talk about the National Pest Management Strategy for an awful bee pest, American Foul Brood.

 

Jane Lorimer showing us the parts of a hive.

Jane Lorimer, a professional Waikato beekeeper (of Lorimers Honey) and Past President of the National Beekeepers' Association, talked about the queen's role in keeping the hive healthy, and also gave us a hands on demonstration of how to inspect a hive. 

Jane talking about the importance of cleaning you hive tool when inspecting a different hive.

Her husband, Tony, came and contributed in an informal way, and also collected and returned Rex to the airport.

Tony showing how there's no need to panic when a bee or two lands on you.

Warren Yorston, of Plant and Food Research, Ruakura, talked to us about managing varroa. Warren lives locally and keeps bees himself.

 

 

 Jane demonstrating hive inspection techniques.

 There's a queen there somewhere - I saw her before and after I took the photo.

 These were a couple of Warren's hives, vigorous and healthy.

The people who attended were all very impressed with the day, and there was a constant stream of people asking about the Waingaroa Bee Club: who is the secretary / treasurer; how could they join; how much is it to join; where do we meet.

So here are the two things that made my heart sing, and which stunned the questioners:

The speakers all came and spoke for free. We did present each with a gift, but they asked for nothing. These are busy professional people who so love bees and beekeeping that they gave freely of their time, petrol, knowledge and expertise, with no expectation of recompense.

And the bee club which organised it? We have a core group of about ten. We have no committee, no subs, no bank account. We used to charge 50c per meeting to pay the rent of the local town hall supper room for our monthly meetings, but now we meet for free at Vinnie's, a local restaurant which offered for us to meet there, no obligation to buy anything. Joining is as simple as turning up on the night, and giving me an email address so I can send out emails reminding of meetings, and notes of what happened at the meetings.

The core group organised the venue and speakers, did baking, bought gifts, made home made ginger beer, and all the other jobs that go with such an even.

Maybe it's the example set by the bees: like a hive, our club is without the structure of a formal organisation, but is thriving through a sense of community instead.

Wild Carrot: Inside Out, Downside Up

 Like my grandparents and great-grandparents, the wild carrot emigrated from Britain and Europe to New Zealand and found a place to grow and flourish.

Many people call the wild carrot - and other immigrants, of both plant and human kinds - weeds. Some people pull them out, some spray them with pesticide, some just curse them. When I came to our land, it had no garden; it was just a bare paddock. I discovered the beauty of weeds, and picked them to put in vases. I came to love the wild carrot in particular.

It is a beautiful flower, and even when it is picked, pressed flat, 

and turned upside down it remains beautiful. In fact, I think its wild underside is even more beautiful than the side it shows the world.

I've reached a point in my life when I think it's time to start accepting my underside, to stop worrying about what other people think and say, to live life more from the inside than the outside. And because it's so easy to slip back into the habits of six decades I decided I need something to remind myself that instead of trying to live from the outside in,  from now I want to live from the inside out. I'm turning the downside up. And this is my reminder:

From Snow to Summer

On Monday it snowed. How absurd.

Today I had an appointment in Raglan.

 

 

 

 Afterwards I couldn't resist the call of the sun. I walked through the Wainui Reserve Bush Park.......

 

  ..............to the top of the hill, looking out to sea.......

 

 

 ..................and then down to the beach.

 

 Once again I am reminded of why I live here, why I never want to leave.