Aww. Just looked out the window and saw Georgie sitting next to a squirrel having a chat. What a sweet sight.

Rose water high.

He wasn’t hungry in fact and just wanted to hang out. Aww.

Can’t get enough of the lil flying furry beans today. I’m surrounded by delicious herbal aromas too. Heaven is happening right here.

A bee in thyme ☘️🐝☘️

Since becoming more nimble and light footed I’ve wanted to do short sprints on walks. Not for long. But there’s something exhilarating about those moments, lost in the pace.

I’ve been told I have dinosaur arms when I run (The T-Rex kind). I look a bit puppety. I’ve tried making fists but it doesn’t feel right. I think I’m too much of a dancer now. Clenching my fists feels like I’m stopping energy from being released. As I run, I can’t help but open my hands and stretch my arms in all kinds of ways. I love to release energy through my fingertips.

I remember being in the gym, on the treadmill. I had a mirror in front of me and some banging tunes in my ears. I was really getting into it. I could feel my arms becoming restless. Wanting to move. Wanting to reach around their space. Before I knew it, they were in the air. I was running and pumping and bouncing my ass (and arms) off. It felt powerful.

I saw someone do this in a supermarket once. Headphones on, in the tea aisle, he must have been listening to something epic because he was dancing down that aisle like a diva. I loved his freedom to be able to do it. It made me smile. Supermarket Dance

So if you see someone in a park, running with their arms pumping the air, or their hands floating in space, that’ll be me, in my element, listening to an incredibly uplifting tune. Having it large. Feeling free.

Cheat day. 12 hrs early. I bought baklava today. There’s no way a box of baklava would remain unopen for long. We didn’t eat them all. Instead we cut little slivers off and appreciated each and every morsel. Each and every sweet flake. Now we can do it again tomorrow too yay!

What a special pond. Bursting out with life as birds sing. What a special rose. Bursting out with scent as raindrops fall.

Day 21 - I danced. I moved. I pumped my toned arms through air. I realised how much extra power I could make if I focused on putting my heels on the ground more when I bounce and move. Heels are important. I’ve never really made use of mine. I have ‘equine’ feet - walking like a horse, with little heel strike. There’s a lot of power and balance that comes from ‘planting’ on the earth, heel first. It stretches out the calve muscles and sends energy to other parts of the body. I can feel the difference it makes to my whole body now. I’m going to practise this more.

My new mirror is the glass of an elegant bookcase. I watched my body energetically flow like I was watching someone else with really cool rhythms and grooves. But it was me. I’m becoming! I felt confident in space. I didn’t wobble around like I used to on weak legs. I slowed down and explored fascia and muscle knots. I helped them relax and pop. I incorporated weights into my dance. There were some 5kg dumbbells nearby. I held them steady and honed my back and shoulder muscles. I’ve got toned strength going on in there. I’m getting me a fine sacred temple of power to live in. Yeah!

Then I ate a fish.

And my whole body sang with the nourishment it gave me. Thank you lovely fish. Thank you for helping my body to strengthen and bloom. You are part of me now. I honour you.

The song that sent me soaring, I’ve mentioned before. Friction - Freak - feat Josh Barry. His voice is smooth and full of soul and passion. And the beat makes me explode into stars.

Georgie Porgie.

Dear sweet catto snuck into our room to curl up on the bed whilst we were out. We only know because of the lovely warm patch he left. Well done catto for being braver around the house. He’s a bit of a scardy cat and sticks to his own space usually.

If there was a way to live in these flowers, I absolutely and wholeheartedly would move in. I’d also feel closer to Dr Seuss.

Experienced Catto sought for top notch cuddles, perfect purrs and delightful company.

Excellent benefits will be bestowed upon the successful candidate - High quality food, catto massage, supreme bed linen, a supply of organic premium catnip, various toys, beautiful outdoor space, peaceful surroundings.

If you have the following qualifications please apply within.

Essential criteria:

• Must be a relaxed catto.
• Be friendly and affectionate to everyone.
• Be happy lounging on laps.
• Be happy having extensive tummy tickles.
• Enjoy being held like a baby.
• Love their ears being fondled, kissed and sniffed.
• Keep their bottoms clean.
• Like snuggles in bed.
• Wipe wet paws before getting into bed.
• Must toilet outside, away from flower beds.
• Enjoy a chat.
• Must not purr loudly all night on the pillow.
• Be willing to sleep in (no 5am wake up calls).
• Enjoy loud dance music.
• Not bring furry prey into the house.
• Never catch birds.
• Never spray in the house. Ever.

Desirable:

• Be willing to learn to dance with human companion.
• Be interested in going on long walks.
• Be willing to undertake some training.
• Prefer the candidate not to jump on doors.
• Prefer a catto who’s kind to all animals.

Mmmm lovely bird song. What you didn’t hear after I stopped recording was the monumental squawking from the many crows living nearby too.

There’s so much to explore here. I never knew how cycle friendly York was. There are cycle paths everywhere into the heart of the city. Through lush woods full of bird song. Over architecturally stimulating bridges. I love this place more and more.

Oh golly. I’ve always wanted to try one of these on 😃

Housesitting is a wonderful lifestyle choice. I love it in nearly all ways. The travel, the exploration, the discovery, the change, new houses, new design ideas, meeting new cats. Almost everything is positive and exciting. The area I struggle with most is the physical act of packing up all our stuff, putting said stuff in the car - a moderately sized car - making it fit, making things that could get squashed not get squashed and doing all this to a time scale.

I’ve realised I can get stressed with my companion during this period. For no other reason than that I feel under pressure. A pressure I give to myself. He’s a meticulous packer. He looks after his things. Everything always looks new. He’s thoughtful and considered and cares about his belongings. I’m more of a ‘push it in until no more will fit’ kind of gal. Sometimes I feel like ramming things, though I only think about ramming in my head. I’ve learnt from experience that one does not ram.

I don’t fully consider things like he does - ie - the consequences. I like to just get on and get going. I start off well and orderly, then finish off with a general stuffing technique. This can result in a squished box or a scuffed shoe. Sometimes I pack a few things, then he unpacks them because he’s found something that’s being squished and damaged. Even though I know he’s right and it’s the sensible thing to do, the idea of taking things out of the car when they’re already in there freaks me out. And I get annoyed. On the inside. It feels like we haven’t got time. Even though we have, usually.

So I want to make it easier. I want to be more organised. I want to have the right tools. So nothing gets squished and everything slots into place. I want to have such an incredibly organised car that people admire our packing tools and capabilities. Gone will be the shoes in plastic bags, randomly slotted in all over the car. Say hello to our new plastic shoe box all neat and tidy and in its place. Goodbye massive plastic bag full of heavy condiment bottles (how many soy sauces do I actually need? Definitely not four), hello lovely new plastic food box, easily stacked, slotting in nicely. This is the way forward. Boxes that slot. I’m truly excited. By the end of our York house-sit I will be The Box Queen. If only my 20 year old self could see me now. I used to be The Bag Lady in university so I’d say things were improving immensely.

Yesterday I saw a podiatrist called Holly. She made my feet feel happier. She removed hard skin that comes from my individual weight bearing style. She had a look at my athlete’s foot which is quite sore but slowly getting better through diet, friendly bacteria and listerine foot soaks. It’s been a bit hard to walk because my usually stronger foot is now the sorer of the two. I think it’s arisen because I’m cleansing and usually when you cleanse and eat more simply (ie without sugar everyday), old stuff comes up and needs to be expelled. So I’m slaying it and it’ll leave me soon and won’t be welcomed back.

I might call on Holly to do a biomechanical assessment of my gait and balance points. Maybe I’ll get some insoles. Maybe she’ll conclude that my feet are better off left to their own devices. It’s good to get opinions on my enigmatic legs (that’s what the orthopedic surgeon told me they were).

I told her about my own conclusion as to why I walk the way I do. That when I was a little one and in frog plaster, my brain and hips lost connectivity with each other because I had surgery and didn’t walk or weight bear on my legs for an extended period. Holly said this was right. When people have injuries or pain in certain areas, their brains drop connection and reroute into other areas so as not to feel pain anymore. Bodies are great at adapting. Therefore, my brain learnt that in order to walk, my back had to play more of a central role in the process and my hips lost their place (and their suppleness) in the sequence of how I stood and moved. They were so down the list I haven’t been able to feel them working up until recently.

That’s why bellydance is so good for me. It gets me engaging with my hips. It gets my brain saying ‘hello hippos’ down there. I feel it. I feel the progress. I feel my whole posture changing as a result of my hips getting more attention. Bellydance moves rock! And roll too. Rolling feels amazing. That’s when you engage the abdominal wall and make it do things you never even knew were possible.

Day 20 - I’m dancing once more after a few days transitioning between houses. When I dance again, a relief comes over me. My body feels thankful. I’m giving it attention. I’ve been static with no space to dance. Now I have a room with a view. There are trees and squirrels and jackdaws. And there’s me. At the centre. Listening to fat beats. Firing up my blood. Firing up my spirit. I admire my strength and determination to keep on dancing. To keep on finding out who I am and what I’m capable of.

Today in the dance, I also had a period of lying down and relaxing. My back felt ever so grateful for that. It’s so wonderful just to completely relax. On a firm floor. And let everything sink into the ground. It’s quite a magical moment. There’s a rise in peace I feel in my brain.

I couldn’t stay still for long though and started pumping my arms and legs in that horizontal position. I just couldn’t help myself. It’s useful to know I can dance, even when I’m lying down.

Twitchy tail marmalade catto enjoys belly rubs and has big warm squishy ears. He used to live under a school. He loves being outside. When he’s inside he’ll be lying next to his catnip rubbing mat. He’s not allowed in the bedrooms though sometimes he sneaks in for a nap.

Who’s a handsome boyo then? And more likely to let a gang of field mice snuggle into his soft silky fur than eat them for dinner. Georgie Orange Catto!

Grateful to have an English country garden on my doorstep. It’s lush, vivid, wild, wonderful, full of roses and yes, I drank magic rose water earlier on. The deep scarlet was the most aromatic.

My new favourite thing. Glass paperweights. Colours and bubbles. Wow.

Catto in an English country garden. Aw.