Day 484: Zappelnudel

So much to be deeply thankful for this weekend. SO much. I travelled from Birmingham to York with relative smoothness. I remember nothing of particular note and nothing of particular displeasure. That’s not to say there was nothing of note on offer – I just didn’t notice it. Intense dreams about being bitten by a strong-jawed dog, which had my ankle in its mouth and was trained to kill… I kept looping the dream, in which I was trying to avoid being killed – if I hit the ground, I thought, it’d go for my throat. It looped so many times that I tried to change the dream and let it kill me, see what would happen, but the subconscious survival instinct must have been strong, because that bit of dream wouldn’t be dreamed.

I had the pleasure of Lilley and her new(ish) daughter, Tulsi, all weekend, and Daniel just at the end of it. Lilley fills me with inspiration and love. She’s one to admire, that one, and I feel very grateful indeed that she’s my friend. She’s a mother to be reckoned with, as evidenced by one of the calmest, sweetest, most inquisitive and confident babies I’ve ever had the pleasure to brood over.

Tulsi is small and strong and long like a lanky teenager, only in cutest baby form. She has seeky eyes and a face so expressive, it’s like some kind of art installation projection… every second, something new is going on. It all has meaning – you just have to work out what. She’s got a fabulous ‘working shit out’ face, which often transforms into an open-mouthed beam of delight.

pleased with her cheese

She spends a lot of time on the floor, exploring and discovering. She’s interested in textures.When Lilley interacts with her, it’s with 100% presence… when she’s the object of attention, it’s full, attentive, and full of wonder. Lilley’s response to her is mostly delight, whatever she does. Just loving her for being who she is, as she put it, whether that entails her doing what would be easier for Lilley, or not. Lilley stays calm and loving and encouraging all the time. It’s a fantastic model, and Tulsi embodies the evidence of this.

Having met her only the day before, I took Tulsi out for a walk yesterday afternoon. We went to Lee and Tanya’s house, to visit them and their Staffie, Tilly. Tulsi was calm and curious in the pram and when we arrived. She knows Lee and Tanya and has come across the dog before, but nevertheless, she’s only five months old and her mum is nowhere to be seen; the dog is three times her size – she didn’t even flinch. She played easily on the floor and allowed herself to be passed between us for a good 45 minutes, maybe even an hour. Then she let me know it was time to make a move, so she went back in the pram and we walked. She slept for another 40 minutes and then woke up, confused at coming back into the world, but still calm to be greeted by a stranger, not a parent. How cool is that? Well done, Lilley Harvey – you are doing a fabulous job.

We entertained ourselves (more than her) by speaking to her in different languages. French was our favourite. In French, I am her Tante Hibou. In German, die Tante Uhu. In German, she’s a Zappelnudel (dancy/twisty-turny little noodle). We sang ‘Alouette’, but changing ‘je te plumerai’ – ‘I will pluck your feathers’ to ‘je te boufferai’ – ‘I will eat you up’. Much more fun, and creates justification for munching on/kissing hands, feet, cheeks, ears, belly etc. Aren’t babies’ bellies fabulous? Isn’t their skin soft and delicious? Aren’t they just good enough to eat?

I'm full up of goodness thanks to this little family... full up to the brim; inspired, determined to operate, as Lilley would say, on a higher vibration. Let's do it!

Great meeting with JP. Gooooood stuff. Work from Canada, too, and an exchange of surprising ease, satisfaction and excitement with a stranger, who is offering me just the kind of work I love to do, at a price that seems fair to both of us. It's of service to him and of service to me. It already feels like such fun. Thank you for such unexpected gifts.

I got stung by a bee. I'm delighted! For years, I've been quietly frightened of being stung. So many family members are allergic to them and I react quite extremely to midge bites, so I've been carrying anti-histamines around for years, just in case. I don't think I've ever been stung by a bee before. Wasps, yes, twice only, once aged about five and once a few years later. 

Today, I reached into the outside pocket of my backpack for a rubber owl keyring and experienced a warm, sharp sensation on the middle joint of my middle finger. It hurt, but not in the terrible way my childhood mind remembered it. I instinctively sucked it and saw, with sorriness, a bee bum and sting. I'm sorry, bee, to end your life that way. Neither of us meant each other any harm. Thanks for sacrificing yourself (intentionally or otherwise) so that I'd find out that bee stings hurt a bit but not a lot, that I don't swell up, stop breathing or go into anaphylactic shock. No need to worry. I'm now quietly pleased.

Loved my chat with beautiful, mermaid-like creature, Mirjam. She's a pleasure, she is. We laughed a lot, looking at each other's pixellated images. I 'met' her cat (a black shape with eyes). We talked, made plans, agreed things. Looking forward to the next instalment. 

I also loved my dinner. I did a recce on a yoga centre nearby. I plan to go there when we're here again. I planned to go tonight, but this evening is the only day that the Ashtanga class I had my eye on isn't happening. Later, I had my date with Mirjam, so the later time wouldn't have done.