Bag lady

Well, the Stuff continues to loom, but I had a rare weekend+ off so it felt right to do some craft.

On Friday I took myself over to Lesley's place and sat companionably with her as she pottered and planned another papercut, and I got stuck in to assembling a bag I had cut out last week. It is from a pattern by Kathy at Pink Chalk Studio, called the Mail Sack.

The base is a wool/silk mix that I got in an op shop somewhere for about $1, and the top part is a vibrant purple linen from a recycled skirt. It is designed to sit scross the body. Whaddya think? I tried to get photos of it on me, but sigh, no. Trust me, I'm sparing you. I haven't decided yet where it will go. It may go in 'the shop'. Or it may be a pressie. I had so many buttons to choose from for the flower, but Steff liked this quirky cow button, so we went with that.

On Saturday hubby and I headed to the city for an impromptu grown-up getaway. I feel like I haven't seen him for a month! It was lovely, away from the phones and the emails and the Stuff.

We went out for dinner (Globe, at the Hilton, mostly wonderful, and the good bits were Incredibly Good) and breakfast (King St Cafe, really good) and had a wander around this developing part of the city and just enjoyed ourselves in general. Comfy room, soft sheets. Exactly what we needed.

On Sunday when we returned I felt like tackling a smallish craft project, that I asked Les about on Friday. She had re-lined a bag that was shabby, or yukky, and I had a lovely bag that had frayed lining. See? It is as an Olga Berg that I bought about 3 years ago, but the original lining was shabby. So I gutted it. The pink bit here is the external zipped pocketliner that was not frayed.

Then, using the old lining as a guide I cut a new liner with a pocket, and reused the zipper for a new pocket, and reused the darted pocket opposite.

Then I hand stitched the new lining in place.
Et voila! One refurbished bag!
I have one more day off now, which is filling up quick, so I'd better fly!

Recycled homes

This is a fabulous article and slideshow.

I saw it and pinched it from Rixa.

http://www.nytimes.com/slideshow/2009/09/02/garden/20090903-recycled-slideshow_index.html

The homes he builds are just stunning! They would make me consider moving.

Alfresco living

Well, the bathroom renovation has begun.

Here's some 'before' shots.

Yesterday while I was at work the bathroom was gutted.

I called Stephanie at lunchtime to get a progress report and her exact words were "Oh. My Freakin. God - Mum, its amazing". LOL. She had been charged with taking photos of the progress, so some of these were taken by her.

It turns out that this was not the original bathroom as I had thought. There was green wet-area plaster uncovered under the tiles, so it must have been re-done in the early 1960s, when it was around 15 years old.

There were two burly young men, smashing and crashing, belting apart a very solid cast iron bath and wheelbarrowing it out to the skip.

By the time I got home they were removing rubble by the barrow load. The floors are covered and holding up ok so far.

The builder/plumber had plumbed us a new outdoor hot/cold shower on the external wall outside the laundry, so its alfresco freshening up for us for the next 2-3 weeks! Of course we also have the laundry and loo indoors.

This is where I had my shower this morning at 7am. It was light outside and 14 degrees. It was fun. Don talked to me through the laundry window.

It may get a bit old by the end, but we'll survive. (edited to add, in fact we are all enjoying it. Our son who is quite bohemian is very enthusiastic about standing naked in the backyard under the moonlight, and the cat was very curious last night to see Steph in the shower after swimming. She - the cat- walks on the wall and is most intrigued. I saw a plane fly over this morning!)Its quite private, but we've hung a few curtains anyway, just in case.

The skip is nearly full of rubble, but before we began it was half-full of black bags full of leaves!!!!!! Some scumbag neighbour had decided it would be appropriate to dump 11 bags of leaves in our waiting skip over the long weekend. Grrr. WHAT A NERVE!!!!! As I was standing next to it today with the plumber, discussing this crime someone set off down the lane on a bike (in all their wanky lycra) and grinned and waved. It was either a). The culprit rubbing it in, or b). someone I did know and would be happy to wave to....in which case I hope their bike didn't actually develop a flat tyre, or their lycra shorts split down the ass seam while they were in heavy traffic (as that was what I was wishing them in the event that it was the culprit). Ahem. The young guys had to remove it all, because they are not allowed to have mixed rubble and green waste in the style of skip we have. Like they needed the extra work involved in that!

In other news...Look at what was safely delivered to my house yesterday! It is an original art piece in paint and paper made for me by Kel of Taurus Rising. It was her blogaversary about 6 weeks ago and I won my choice of prize. The choices included an art piece, so she custom made it for me. She framed it and everything! It has a cut up egg/oval shape with an eye/uterus/hidden chamber with an embryonic woman in it. It is most intriguing. (ooh, Kel has added a helpful comment explaining it better). It fits into a little niche for now - I promise I'll find somewhere better to hang it when I re-organize/curate the artwork soon. Where it is currently is a bit hard to photograph, but I wanted it up immediately and safely out of the way of the workmen, but somewhere I can look at it and absorb it. I keep finding new layers in it already. Thanks so much Kel!

And for my final trick...I've decided to have some creative fun next month (in my spare time) and attempt to take part in 'Every day in May'. Its some Flickr group...Oh...here ya go http://www.flickr.com/groups/everydayinmay/ . The concept's apparently been going for a few years...I may fail...but what the hey! Its a good excuse to get crafting more solidly again. I have a few projects planned and I'm sure the rest will evolve as the month unfolds.

But don't hold me to it....

Happy New Year and 100th post!!!

Well, that says it all really.

Somehow I have now typed 100 messages to the universe, known as the internet.

Some of these message threads have floated out into space and connected with some of you. Like gossamer into the world wide web.

We are anchored at each end. Alerting the other to our presence through a gentle tug at the line now and then, occasionally catching another cross-thread between us and each sensing it, following it to a new friend.

This is the way that we share our daily/weekly/whenever communications.

I can assure you I had no idea how addictive I would find Blogland to be. Especially now I use Bloglines as a reader. 100+ feeds, sigh, yet I care about each of the lives I peer into.

I thirst for the latest news, creation, baby, musings, and updates on loved ones.

And don't get me started on the photography I have seen.

My life feels richer for 'knowing' new people through this medium. Most of us have never met, nor ever will.

But there you are. And here I am.

Thanks. For listening. For commenting. For writing and sharing. But most of all...for being there.

Does anyone fancy a random de-stash draw? You'd be helpin me out. Honest. Most of you have NO IDEA of the chaos I am sitting in.

(Continue to) Save me from myself.

You know the drill. Leave a comment.

You've got a week (until midnight next Friday night).

See ya, keep in touch!

December begins.

(images from Google, - thanks Google,- except for the last one)

If you're reading this you are alive. Yes indeed. More fortunate than nearly 200 people in Mumbai. What a waste of life. A shocking, shocking waste. For no purpose, by brainwashed people who think it is a perfectly valid thing to do to fellow human beings. I hope I never understand that mentality. Clearly their parents, or other influential adults in their lives have severely failed them. I have been to Mumbai, seen and been inside some of the buildings involved, breathed the same air as those mowed down. Senseless, inexpicable stuff. I hope India recovers its spark, its such an incredible place.

It IS December, and its very strange to be home alone. Steff has gone to Melbourne to spend time with my sister and her cousins. Much planning involved. It is our chance for a rest from the High School Musical soundtrack, Hannah Montana, Pokemon and Saturday Disney, cat-obsession and narrow food-choices - and her chance to have a break from us too. She's had a tough year, its been a struggle. Its a good break for all of us. I hear she's having a great time, and has many plans for the week ahead.

My plans for the week involve a list of errands of boring stuff, which I am alternating with creative interesting things that I can do while free to gallivant. You all know what boring stuff looks like so I'll spare you that list...but the gallivanting! Oh the gallivanting!

I have started the painting. What painting? THE painting. We have been looking for a piece of art in a horizontal format to go between the sofa back and the overhead mounted bookshelves. A tricky space dimensionally. Pretty dumb planning on our part I suppose, but it was filled with framed kids art for years and has only recently been calling for an alternative. We have looked for over a year. It is very unusual to enter a gallery and head straight for a particular size, rather than a colour or subject. We then look at everything in that size. We looked. And looked. Without finding anything that we loved, or even liked enough to date (one of the galleries allows home visits, for getting to know you purposes). Exhibition after exhibition, empty-handed, stony-hearted, except with the sneaking suspicion that I/we could have a go at doing something ourselves.

Ages ago we bought a canvas, plus two smaller side canvases to completely fill the space, (to complete the artistic series, doncha know). Finally this weekend I tackled it. On Saturday evening as I was about to dish up dinner (literally) I was seized with the urge to prepare the canvas. While the chips were in the oven I set up at one end of the long outdoor table and primed it in a soft clay/camel brown. I then set up the other end with the tablecloth, cutlery and glassware. We ate outside, trying to ignore the large brown thing at the other end of the table.

On Sunday morning I wandered out and felt daunted by the size and pristine nature of it. Would I divide it up into segments - would I use wavy lines? I didn't want symmetry...what did I want? I grabbed three colours and a rag and literally dabbed and dragged new colour over it to break it up. I stood outside and pottered on it all morning (getting sunburnt I now discover), dragging out assemblage pieces, papers, pens, fabric, texture paste, magazines for collage, scrapbooking supplies. I have cut up pieces of Indian sari I bought in India, , I've penned on quotes I find inspiring and I'm not done yet!

I stopped for a while to go see a movie (In Bruges, a black comedy, with a large amount of foul language in it, but delivered with the most charming Irish accents, and really quite touching and sad. Great performances). When I came home I didn't go back to it. It sat there, I felt a bit self-concious about it to be honest. I still do. Who am I to try and 'do art'? You know, that kind of internal dialogue....but this morning I looked at it again and thought well, I may as well keep going, and if it turns out to be complete shite I have a big enough bin to dispose of it. I have embellished and attached door handles, and I am having fun with it. It needs more texture now, more detail, some framing of elements, more collaged onto it. I'm digging into the stash and tossing round ideas. Maybe a Wild Woman needs to enter a frame? Its been so long since I painted that I have lost confidence in my brush skills (she says, as if she ever had any, but I did do some folk art in the late 90's). But it is building up and coming together.

No pics yet, I hope I feel able to show you when I finish it. But with Steff away and only 3 more days not working til she comes back I feel I should push on. I did discover the value of painting over a crappy bit! Nothing is permanent, it can always be embellished over!

I have started back on the ward now. I had 3 shifts scheduled but went home sick after the second and called off the third due to still being crook. A bit of a dampener to start our weekend alone with me feeling like death...but I improved.

Ward work has been OK so far, but I have been lucky to have 4 antenatal women plus only one postnatal woman and her baby. I seem to remember what to do, and when to do it, and when they are mostly women who have had babies before there is not much to educate them on, except for the circumstances that led them to be admitted. Its a tough deal, to be admitted with very prematurely ruptured membranes for your fifth baby, with kids at home etc. Especially if you're from a rural area and used to being the boss of the show for a large brood. Control = zero. Its very hard for them to adjust, and not fret, while becoming a long-term patient. To be patient when waiting for factors out of their control to kick in, or to be put off as long as possible. Others come and go fairly quickly, 17 years old, 34 weeks pregnant, contracting a bit and having a small post-coital bleed - disappeared after breakfast never to be seen again! Taking control her own way! Or the older mother with a poor history coming in to make sure her diabetes is in control so she doesn't lose another baby at term. A woman having her fifth CS who still receives mountains of flowers! What's her secret? She is clearly valued as a mother, with new nighties and PJs, and visitors bearing freshly cooked food and hand feeding her.

Contrasted with a shy young woman, unattended, with barely a change of clothes, snuggling her baby in with her in bed, whispering responses to my (too many but necessary) questions as she takes in the miracle that she has produced. Trying hard to assimilate this busy big-city place where you have to come, because there are no VBAC births 'allowed' in your area because there are no doctors able to provide care in case you needed another CS. So you arrive with a plastic bag, knowing no-one and wait it out, postponing the shared family joy you crave.

Many stories. Sorry it takes so long to bash them out, but I have limited time with hubby and yesterday was the first day in AGES when I didn't even turn the computer on. It was a temptingly creative day! I should do more of it!

Progress report (now with random photos)

Well, my to-do list still looks a bit sick. (I've taken a leaf out of Frogdancer's book and illustrated with holiday snaps- the photos are from the Italian leg of our trip last year, on the theme 'Rome wasn't built in a day') Catch more babies - Nope - not a one. Despite the best efforts of my colleagues to fling all multiparous and other quickies in my direction.

I had a day in the assessment unit - where it is frowned upon to catch babies unless you genuinely have ZERO time to whizz them around the corner.
I spent a shift with a delightful young primip who spoke minimal English (my French was fairly rusty, oui, c'est vrai). Her trace looked like crap (she was on the trace due to augmentation of labour) and the baby heartrate kept bottoming out, so needed to go for CS. Bummer. Near perfect gases. Cord only around the kid once, but had been in a spot that got squashed a lot and made the trace look crappy. The heartrate did take time to recover, more each time, and can only do that for so long, but it was disappointing for everyone. Baby came out squawking. Happy Maman and Papa. (Hopefully happier than this Maman below, Michaelangelo's finest work, the Pieta. Forget the Sistine chapel. This is it. Oh, and his David - who is also utterly magnificent.)
Today I came on to two delivered women. One was asking about circumcision for her new son - she wasn't too fussed whether it happened or not, just thought it was what you did. "In the olden days: we know better now, why cut something off when you can just wash it?" I told her. Thats the way God makes 'em, might as well leave them alone! Besids - he'll be the odd one out, it is so rare to find a circumcised boy under the age of 20 in Australia. (and thats a good thing) She was most relieved, it was one less thing to accomplish, and once I gave her the script to brush off enquiries from old-style pressure groups she was very happy to leave him as nature intended. We had a brief discussion about how to care for it (self-cleaning mostly, or just a swish until it pulls back fully and needs to be gently attended to by the fella himself) and then talked about Sci-fi fantasy books! (these look a bit like bookends to me)I was then sent to collect a multip who was a sure thing for a catch. A nice couple with a good history of spontaneous easy birth, including a multiple birth. Nix. Nada. Bupkiss. I even stayed behind nearly two hours after everyone else from my shift,but she went off the boil, even after rupture of membranes. I have just phoned - she had her son two hours after I left. I'm pleased for her, but sheesh. What does a midwife have to do? No-one else was scoring any babies either today, it was uncharacteristically slow, and two rooms were closed for water leaks! But I will be heading to the ward this week, and not be rostered back on LBS for a long few months. My catches remain at 45!
My perineal repairs remain at zero. No catches, no repairs. Easy equation. Not much call for it on the ward either (one hopes). Even less in clinics or VMS!

K2 CTG training remains unfinished - I have had no time to complete it at work this week, but can access it from home and will apparently be paid for the time I take from home. It is very interesting to do, I am refreshing and building on my knowledge. Its great.

The mentoring is all sytems go. We will meet soon, but had a brief catch-up at work, during which she beamed when I said Yes. A good sign. I have a few things planned to start with already. She is an interesting woman and its a good challenge for me professionally.
I have had a pretty definitive NO about getting some temporary work in the birth centre, more's the pity. Ah well, when one door opens another may open. I'll keep my ear to the ground for suitable continuum opportunities.
At home - I have been struggling a bit with a sore throat this week, along with an unwell hubby with a viral illness. Its not like him to take time off work, let alone go to the doctor and he has done both this week. He's not sleeping well, but I think it is starting to lift, and he is finally accepting that pain relief IS a necessary part of coping with sinus pain. He does allow a bit of cossetting every now and then.
I saw my Mum - who was not terribly cheerful or positive following her trip. We went out to a rose nursery near her place to get some rose bushes struck from a cutting I had taken of a stunning climbing rose 'Chrysler Imperial' with a heady fragrance. It was a favourite of my Dad's - I'm sure I've posted about it before. However the nurserywoman was most blunt - nuh, wrong time of year. Nuh, got no root stock to graft it onto. We finally dragged the month of January out of her as a good time to try again. Customer service training surely can't cost too much can it? Heavens above, at least be forthcoming with information - we were the only customers in the whole enormous place - it can't be too hard. To top off our frustration the nursery cafe where we had planned to have lunch was also not open on the day of our visit. I could feel a Mum-shaped meltdown coming on, so we wandered out to distract her and bought some new roses instead. Sigh. They also had some very pretty decorator pots which made a lovely advance birthday gift for Mum. Another gift off the pressie list.

Oh yeah, make a list, check it twice....that was on my to-do list. DONE!!!! Yay! Now to get to the shops and achieve the purchasing, or do the making......
Minimal crafting achieved this week, apart from... oooh I lie! I made two little button bracelets on Wed night at swimming. And I altered a polo shirt for work by appliqueing some pretty bright rose print cutouts over a very unattractive logo on the breast of a new white polo shirt, and adding a matching trim around the collar to cover up an orange stripe. I don't do orange. It doesn't suit me. But the alteration worked out well, and I wore it to work successfully (successful in the fashion stakes, not the baby-catching stakes, sigh). I even sold a bag this week! Which inspired me to stitch a few more. I may join Calamity Kim and make a craft pledge to make 3 small items a week in 2009. Just competing with myself, but also for etsy stock. (shop still empty, I'll blow the horn when its open). Its not like I don't have the stash!

Speaking of which...House still a tip? Check!

Purchased Xmas tree? Nope. The hunt continues, I seek them everywhere I go.
(BTW - we have absolutely NO idea what this item above is. They were fixed to the walls at regular intervals in many places in Rome, Siena and Florence and are at about head height to me. But we took a photo, and I love it 'cos it shows Don's hand. I love his hands)

More op-shopping. I found a blue cowgirl + tiara hat! I need it. Truly. The theme for our staff Xmas party is Country and Western! See - I DO need it. And the matching shirt, which hubby will claim when I'm finished with it. We also found some gorgeous Bally shoes for Steff. $10. Worn once. Very stylish black and cream loafers with sedate tassles. Di-vine. Italian leather designer shoes. We were suitably stoked (I bet Kelley is very jealous - do you have teeny-tiny micro feet? Cos Steff does!) And a sassy tote bag for fun. It is a rare day when our local Vinnies doesn't give some sugar!

Enough rambling on .... Be good.

Picture diary

Thanks for the comments. I read and appreciate every one. When I asked if anyone was still there it meant I hoped you hadn't stopped visiting because there was nothing new to read! I must say since I started using bloglines my blog reading has been greatly simplified. Instead of rabidly going to every site just in case I missed something new, now I can see instantly who has posted and I can relax about all the rest. I am spending less time on the computer, but am still in touch and up-to-date. Phew.

Which leaves more time for sewing!!!! I have been going a bit mad lately and loving it!

OK I promised photos. First - from my birthday. Here is the cake. Black Forest Cake. YUM.

And my oldest friend called late in the day and came by to join us for dinner. We hardly ever get to see each other any more - she lives an hour or so away and now I work shifts with less holidays its too easy to let time slip by. But we manage 1-2 visits per year and it is always such a hoot to see her.

We met when she moved to our area at the start of year 5. For the only time in my childhood or since I was picked to choose a softball team. Such a responsibility! I was always picked last so I knew the anguish of waiting to hear your name spoken. So I chose all the kids who usually waited and waited, including all the interesting kids who were new or who had accents or different coloured skins. It is a decision I have never regretted, least of all because it brought Bobbie into my life. We were inseparable from that moment on. It still feels like that. Can you tell?

I was her bridesmaid at her first wedding. The first quilts I owned were made by her for each of my children - I still have them and treasure them. She is such an inspiration to me. She went back to uni to complete her high school, and became an environmental scientist. She is a grandmother now, and still her own self. I just love her. It was so good to see her.

Here is a very bad shot of the Michael Buble concert, which is badly out of focus but conveys something of the atmosphere. Jeez it was a great concert.

Here is a quick excited photo of my sister and I in the audience. Even though its crooked, I like this shot. She is not usually so pale, she's been unwell. Yep, that is the favourite pink cardigan of the moment getting another outing!

Something else exciting happened last week. I received my labels. See? Its a name that a family friend used to call me (my family call me by my middle name) I accidentally ordered iron-on ones (sigh) which don't necessarily suit every fabric I use to make a bag, but they still look very satisfying to have on my products. Even if sewn a little rustically.

Speaking of rustic, here is the bag I just had to make on Friday instead of doing housework (I don't recall making an active choice - was the housework ever a realistic option? ;P )

I had found the orange embroidered jeans in a favourite op-shop on Thursday. They fitted Steff but she felt she wouldn't wear them. Ditto the black chunky cord Diesel jeans we had found a few weeks ago. So....she requested a shopping bag. Et voila!

I was very brave and even put in an internal zipped pocket - my first time - piece of cake. Everything on this bag was chosen for recycledness (is that a word?). The outer fabric, the lining fabrics, the zip, everything had been used before. I'm really pleased with it. It wears my label outside and hers inside!

Which brings me to the weekend....sigh. It was an oasis. I took a healing doll that I had started back in February sometime, that I got stuck on. It was meant to be my inner child, but she looked so vulnerable that I just couldn't move forward with her alone. She needed longer arms to reach out to people. I was a long lanky kid (snort), and while the hair colour was about right, and she had big brown eyes I felt stuck. I knew that if I took her with me to a safe place she would be able to evolve into herself.

We chose messages from a set that spoke to us. Mine were about not believing and living old, negative messages, and how I could create new beliefs about myself, about how I am alright NOW. These tapped into some thought patterns I needed to change. Remember don't believe everything you think ..... So I set to work.

We learned about the orphan archetype and the pros and cons of examining the orphan within us all. We heard the story of "the Ugly Duckling". We journalled. The opening sentence was "I want..." A very powerful tool. We danced through a guided meditation through a four part garden with gates dividing the areas. We experienced the long hard winter that precedes transformation and growth. Rocks for grief, sticks for anger, water for despair, and sand for feeling depleted. We then went for a silent meditative walk about the bush. It was the winter solstice and people all over the world were also engaging in that exercise simultaneously. We were encouraged to see if anything called to us on our nature walk and to collect them for inclusion in our dolls or journalling. The sticks of anger had called me during the meditation. It was time to examine their purpose.

The other women had mostly not made the dolls before and we all had kits in front of us for a new doll. So did I. So I made a new one as well as working on my inner child doll. She had come with me as plain Jane. I was called that a lot as a child. This weekend I made her/myself blossom.

I used the sturdy sticks I collected to first of all give plain Jane a backbone. Next I entwined some curved sticks to her to give her longer arms to reach out for help and comfort. Next she needed to stand taller, so some very strong branches were bound to her short legs. These new limbs were bound in a tartan that reminded me of the little tartan pinafores I wore as a child - with a plain cotton top and a beautiful pleated skirt. They were worn with a pretty white blouse and a cardigan over the top. My new doll seemed more confident already. She had been mousy and brown before, and I look hideous in brown. She wasn't happy being brown. As the dove-grey and green tartan strengthened her she seemed happier. Suddenly I knew she needed more green. A scrap of sequinned green spoke to me. I bound this across her heart. There were some leaves that filled a gap or two, then she sighed contentedly. At last, you are getting to the heart of me. Returning to the treasure chest I found a small sculpted baby, painted gold. This touched a very deep chord. The little one was immediately tucked next to her heart. Scraps of green gingham, more layers of beautiful dyed green cotton with leaf prints, a few more sequins, a tie or two, more hair, a flower for blossoming happiness, a jewel or two, a few pearls, following our instincts. Then someone brought me an amazing gift. There, in a small velvet covered matchbox, was a tiny baby with a message in the box that read "I love you just the way you are". It was just the message she/we needed to hear. She held a stick to acknowledge the rage at her mistreatment, but it was softened by a growth of green, as she didn't want it to define her. It now looks like a wand to achieve transformation. A friend across the table said, you realize, don't you, that she is Mother Earth. A bell rang somewhere. Many people call me an Earth Mother midwife. Others have called me a Demeter figure. But of course. My inner child had blossomed into a manifestation of something that feels very natural to me. An earth mother. I was profoundly moved by the whole experience and can barely take my eyes off her. She is just right. I had never imagined that I would create something as beautiful as she is. As green as she is. But she is "No More Plain Jane" now. And I love her just the way she is.

The white doll I am holding is my midwife warrior I made in the first healing doll workshop I attended. She is full of symbolism and has a long story too. Her new red sister is also related to the meditation. She is a goddess of rage, who trails her anger behind her and has no problem expressing it. I think her story is one for another day....

Here is our group with their dolls at the end of the weekend. We all found it a very powerful and symbolic exercise, an oasis in our busy lives as mothers of children with special needs, some bereaved mothers. We had danced, including a belly dancing session, journalled, ate great food, talked, laughed, cried, discovered, meditated, slept and relaxed and shared an incredibly intimate weekend.

I am very lucky to have access to this type of workshop. It is a lifeline for me, a tool to have an inner life that allows my inside to match my outside. This doll making is a stunning exercise when taken as a whole 30 hour journey in a supported psychotherapeutic environment with trusted friends. And now I entrust the sharing of it with you, dear reader.

Peace and love.