Testing, testing tangles

Hallelujah!

Note to self: No more twiddling and fiddling. Stick to what you know.

The dangers of organic gardening - postscript

Hats off to Archdruid Eileen for clarifying the theological nuance of my Genesis rant far better than I ever could!

A right old tangle - testing, testing

At least I know where my gifting doesn't  lie!

Return of the Sustainable Smellies

I do choose them, don't I? A while back I wrote about my ongoing attempts to cut out chemical nasties, inspired by Raleigh Brigg's book Make Your Place.

Just been leafing through another Christmas pressie, Raleigh Brigg's charmingly illustrated and handwritten guide to making your own all -natural  lotions and potions. Everything from household cleaners, bug busters, face cleansers to gardening basics is there.  Ms GP bought it for me; we're both trying to phase out sundry 'nasties' like parabens and petrochemicals in the  bathing and cosmetic areas as much as possible - with varying success. We're pleased to have found a few brands worth giving a look in the High Street as well as the health stores. Though to be honest, it still is a bit of a lottery, labour intensive: entailing much peering short-sightedly (for me at least)  at labels and to-in and fro-ing to different stores. And don't talk about expense...ouch!  For us unscientific types, figuring out these ingredients lists can be like struggling to crack a code. Not all items with long, complicated names are necessarily harmful, conversely it seems as if every five minutes somebody somewhere is putting about scare stories about something which up to now we'd thought innocuous enough. 

                       Read on at the old Greenpatches if you want a good laugh  to hear about my attempts to solve the big haircolouring dilemma.

Meanwhile, varying success- one triumph being homemade spray starch (better still, why not stop ironing altogether I hear you say?). Simply add some cornflour (cornstarch if you live over The Pond) to water, shake it up and, hey presto! Your shirts will salute you, your jeans will stand to attention...if you forget to adjust the nozzle of the bottle to 'spray' setting, you'll also end up looking as if you've wiped your hands down the legs of your smart navy trousers after a mammoth scone baking marathon - as I discovered too late. My resident scientist, Mr GP, checked the label of a commercial brand and suggested an emulsifier of some kind. A couple of drops of grapefruit essential oil, a few shakes later, and we're back in business. Postscript - store in the fridge - there are no preservatives in this mix.

What next? With consummate timing, I've just embarked on a 'no nasties,' de-odorant campaign; aiming to try out several of the 'less harmful' brands. Outside the Sun Has Got His Hat On, arms and legs are exposed  in  pale profusion for all the world like a forest of mushroom stalks; I've a couple of meetings and a train journey later this week. This could be 'ehrm,' interesting. I'll keep you posted.

The Three Ways of Service

Tertiaries desire to be conformed to the image of Jesus Christ, whom we serve in the three ways of Prayer, Study, and Work. In the life of the Order as a whole these three ways must each find full and balanced expression, but it is not to be expected that all members devote themselves equally to each of them. Each individual’s service will vary according to his or her abilities and circumstances, yet each individual member’s Personal Rule of Life must include each of the three ways.

           - From the Principles of the Third Order Society of St Francis, Day 13

Liturgically correct couture

Here's a first - somebody complimented me on my Sunday outfit: a tasteful combo of flowery blue indian blouse worn with blue linen travel trousers and blue 3/4 sleeve  embroidered cardi. Not exactly vintage fashion as with the   snap of my late, great (in both senses of the word) Auntie, but still...

In matters devotional, being  Anglican, I'm apt to give at least a nod towards the liturgical calendar. Readers of a similar persuasion will be familiar with the associated colours and will know that we've  embarked on Ordinary Time (green). If like me, you sometimes  find locating  the correct lectionary readings  like untangling a ball of wool after the cat's been playing with it, you'll welcome this llooonnnng stretch of well, ordinariness;  Just knit  your way from Weeks 1 to 7  as per instructions and all will be well. In my case, with a few  dropped stitches as the odd week mysteriously disappears; I've been known to reach Advent several weeks early or still be patiently purl one, plaining one in metaphorical and spiritual leafy green whilst everyone else is preparing for Christmas. It all adds to the excitement. Doesn't take much to amuse me you know.

Going back to church, we've one very elegant older lady in the congregation whose collection of outfits nearly   always manage to follow the liturgical colouring. Imagine my disappointment last Sunday when for once, she departed from the usual. What kind of spiritual state do you have to be in to sport a red and blue striped top, may I ask? Her explanation  - that she doesn't own a green jacket, sounded a bit feeble to me. Anyway, I was a fine one to talk she said, wearing blue from top to toe!

Anyway, to return to my unexpected 'bouquet,' which had  a hint of earwig in amongst the blooms. Somebody else remarked on how stylish and elegant I looked as I went up for communion, But weren't you  absolutely freezing, dear?! Well, yes I was actually, having come over all of a hot flash just before the readings, partly hormonal, partly the after -effects of my half hour walk uphill to church. No, there's no connection whatsoever with the content of the first reading, before you ask. So, off went my coat and by the end of the service my internal heating system was threatening to stage a walkout. You can't win. Never mind,  at my age I take my  compliments where I can find them.

Testing, testing

A word to the wise: If it ain't broke, don't fix it. I should never have mentioned those hobgoblins.