I wrote and recorded this song. It conjures up feelings of a magical maternal presence for me. I imagined a tree with a lady sitting beneath it. There were jewels on its flowers, lit up, sparkling in the sun. Then this song came. Maybe out of the ether 😊🎶 Of light, Of Gold

Hands up who’s ever drunk fresh rain water out of a delciously scented rose? If you ever get the chance, have a go. It’s so aromatic and sweet and rosey! Like the best rose water you’ll ever taste. Just check for bugs before you start slurping 😃🕷🐞🐝

I’m more positive than negative. I like to see the best in situations, see the beauty. I really didn’t believe though, that I’d get to see this body of mine rise up out of oblivion (unhealthly choices) and begin to blossom. Now I’m a healthy bud. Soon I’ll be a shining flower.

Day 13. For any of you who don’t know - I’m on a 30 day belly dance challenge (a fairly relaxed one) which means I try to dance for at least an hour each day, usually to drum and base and I document my progress. I’ve come a long way from near disabled to dancing queen and I’m stronger than ever before. This is what happened tonight…

I felt like I entered another dimension of feeling in my body. I felt like my twisted foot lay flat on the floor with ease. I felt even and balanced and in alignment in all parts of me. I walked with poise and grace around the kitchen amazed at my elegance, amazed at the understanding now unfolding in my mind.

I thought about my time, so young, trapped in a frog plaster and cut off from moving my hips at all. For so long I had reduced connectivity between my hips and my brain. They were static things without any kind of movement happening to them. They missed out on vital conversations with each other and I’ve gone through life with a half hearted notion of what it’s like to have hips to walk with (usually my back would do all the work, with my legs dragging along - legs are heavy when you have no strength to hold them up). I’m only just beginning to understand what strong hips can do. This knowledge is like gold dust to me.

The more I connect to them now, the more my back gets a break. Gone is the huge curve in my spine. My butt is tight. My thighs engaged (I didn’t used to know what thighs felt like) and my abdominal muscles are taking over some jobs. I feel like overworked joints are getting a break. They’ve chivalrously done jobs which weren’t rightfully theirs, to get this body of mine walking though life. They had to adapt to my odd mechanics and help me move in whatever way they could.

That’s how amazing bodys are.

I’m learning how to walk again in a way which benefits my body rather than hinders it.

Belly dance has helped me hone particular muscle groups. Mainly the core ones. These are super helpful in making walking easier. Couple that with an awesome eclectic mix of incredible music, it’s no wonder my body is healing itself through happy vibes, love of the dance and sheer determination to make my body the best version it can be.

Never give up.

Fav track: Focus on the Love - Kasra.

I think you’re dreaming about little mice friends Squiggy, with a smile like that.

When I was young, I had a few experiences of being accidently exposed to sex. Once my friends and I were cycling past a fence with big gaps and I saw a bottom. Two bottoms actually. One on top of the other. A man and a lady seemed to be lying in the back garden naked. I saw his willy too. It was all rather fascinating and we spent some time acting as voyeurs to the scene at large. We even tried to get into the garden next door (for a different view) but the boy who lived there got suspicious and wouldn’t let us in. A few weeks later, I noticed the gaps in the fence weren’t so apparent (bummer). The couple had a baby boy that year. ‘I saw him being made’ I would say (not to them!).

Day 12. I can’t get over how light-footed I am. I’m flippin agile dude. No-one saw this coming 😃 But it’s here. Wooo! New strength detected in core. Well hello new strength - it’s fantastic to meet you! Welcome aboard this sparkling ship of determination and pazzaz. Let’s dance.

Oh my. Just agreed to look after this little birman monkey and his two other siblings. In October. Some months away but well worth the wait. Already excited. Those eyes. Apparently they prefer cuddles and brushes to food. Yippeeee😻😻😻

Forget-me-nots

Still snuggled.

Dear sweet Charlie. Fell fast asleep playing with Dave. Charlie likes licking catnip out of Dave ears. He must be having some far out dreams about now. What a lovely pink nose he has.

Squiggy. Mid-stroke. Sound asleep one minute, on top of me the next. He likes a good scritch scrotch, twice a day for about 5 mins. He’s got soo much fur. He’s a dribbler. Droplets pool on his whiskers. He doesn’t like his paws being touched 😬 His best friend is called Charlie.

My parents were quite well to do. They had a neat garden and a nice drive so it was a surprise to me (later on in life) that they decided to park an old black rover car in the front garden and leave it there for years going rusty on public display. People walked past it everyday and Mrs King, the next door neighbour, had a few things to say about it. For us kids though, it became the best den in the world. A haven of fun for everyone allowed in. A haven of desire for everyone else. I got to choose. There was an aroma from the brown leather seats, crumbling, weathered and picked apart by small curious hands that is probably my favourite smell of all time. Rich, deep, complex and simple. Primal, cosy, oily, just right.

When people walked past our car we beeped the horn at them and hid below the window line. It was hilarious. An amazing steering wheel horn which eventually ran out of horn because we pushed it so many times. We grew up in that car. It knew all our games. All our secrets. It had secrets of its own too. In the boot…

We found a treasure trove of goodies when we opened it. One of those lovely silver twist handles with a smooth action. We could not believe our naughty luck. Inside lay hundreds of postcards. Not any old postcards though. Rude ones with boobs and bums on them. Seaside caricatures of ladies and men being cheeky with one another. They were great. We loved them so much we decided that everyone else needed to see them too. So we ran round the area throwing them into people’s gardens. Hundreds of them. I loved flinging them up high. They went further that way.

Don’t you just love Jeff Bridges? He’s been old to me ever since I was a kid. He’s truthful when he acts, with a great screen presence. He made me laugh so much tonight. He turned up as a Texan law man from the 1800s (RIPD). He was totally hilarious and looked younger than ever. 🍿

I love this wall. I love this light. I love all the birds. I love their songs. I love the green grass. I love the cream cat. I love how I’m standing in space. I love my feet balancing on the ground. I love my body. I love how it spins when I dance to Phantom of the Opera.

I spend almost every second of every day with this man. Simon. What a gorgeous hunk of a human being you are. Life is kinder and funnier with you in it.

While school was fun, home was even more so. By this time my house was full of animals. Four cats and three dogs after our original dog and cat got pregnant at the same time. I don’t know what mum was thinking. What a challenge for her. I loved the kittens and played endlessly with them. I found my soul sister in a little Siamese cat called Amy. We were best friends for her relatively short life. I could often be found skipping and singing round the house holding a long piece of string with a possé of cats and dogs chasing after me. They were good times. I was lucky to have so many animals siblings. It was wonderful.

I had human friends too. Angela was my best friend. We played out together though her mum let her stay up later than mine. Once she did a poo in the garden because she was locked out the house and her dog ate it. I was astounded and repulsed in equal measure. We laughed a lot about it and thought her dog was weird. I shouldn’t have been so surprised as my dogs liked eating cat poos from the litter tray and were always getting told off about it.

There were the two boys who lived next door. Paul and Richard. We’d play Lurkey (hide and see but where we’d run back to base to be in) ‘Lurkey Lurkey 1, 2, 3, Holly in!’ I’d call. British Bulldog, a dodging game and we loved a good water fight. It would be girls vs boys and we’d have the advantage of having Angela’s hose pipe. The boys didn’t mind getting wet. They’d stand in the hose getting drenched and we’d cackle with delight.

Squiggy Catto getting down with the vibes.

Brookfield Primary School was a new fresh school and looked like a gigantic bungalow. There was an old oak in the playing field where children collected acorns and made bird’s nests out of mown grass.

I was nearing 7, an honest girl who’d learnt to keep quiet in certain situations. Once a teacher sternly questioned the class about someone putting paper towels down the toilet (me) and asked for the child who did it to admit to it. Well obviously that wasn’t going to happen and I learnt how to be cunning.

Another telling off I had in the toilets was because someone grassed on me for using too much liquid hand soap. I’d enjoy pressing that button four or five times and watching the soap emerge all gooey. It made such a nice pool in my hand. Too much for some people’s liking. How boring they were. I just had a feeling that the girl was going to tell on me. What a b#@£h.

By the way, what is it with kids looking under/over toilet cubicles? They’re so nosey.

I’m reminded of a time when I was a teacher and I walked in on a couple of four year olds laughing merrily as they threw used toilet paper into each other’s cubicles. Kids 🙄

I liked being nice to the teacher and getting praise in return. I loved messing around with friends. I was banned from working in the library once (where there was no teacher so we could have lots of fun) for ripping Hayley Capewell’s exercise book though, for the record it wasn’t on purpose and I didn’t even know I’d done it. Miss Abdullah was a nice teacher who taught me to write a European 7 with a dash through and eventually, let me back in the library again.

The most melodic of gardens.

Some moments outside in this secluded garden where birds feel safe and flowers grow. Nothing much happens here. This is my recharge. The breeze is fresh and caresses my neck. I’m enjoying breathing in the scents of the flowers. I love this wall. A piece of art.

Day 11. Had a bit of lumber pain recently. Those showgirl moves taking their toll. But then it disappeared. Like a growing pain. My body strength has increased and my balance too. It feels wonderful to twirl like I’ve never twirled before. Not even getting that dizzy. 🤪

My final year at infant school introduced me to how mean girls could be. Now with Michael Bingley in my class, we would sometimes play PE outside. No games kits back then, just vest and pants. I didn’t have a vest on one particular day so Mrs Beaver made me do it just in my pants. I felt awkward going outside like that but how could I express that to an adult? It would be so easy to say ‘no’ now, but back it was a key I did not have.

I was born with an old 50p sized birthmark on my back. It felt like a big deal. Back then I was already self-conscious about it, aged 6. Walking outside, Christina Angus, a girl who would bully me on and off started pointing and talking about me to her friend. I couldn’t hide my back. I couldn’t reach to cover it. That was mortifiying - and so young to be experiencing that, over something so natural. School has a lot to answer for.

I wish I’d been stronger in hindsight, but I did have other heroic moments.

Back to this PE lesson. The one saving grace was we played ‘Boys after Girls’ which meant Michael Bingley would chase and catch me. Tingles of excitement. Me and Michael - keeping our love alive. I wasn’t difficult to catch. I was always the first to be caught.

I became obsessed with marshmallows after seeing Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, 1972 (with Michael Crawford - of Phantom fame - playing the White Rabbit). There’s a scene where Alice finds a pink sweet which says ‘Eat me’ on it. Watching that scene again as an adult, I find the sweet scarily garish and something I would never eat, but back then it was the most delicious looking thing ever and in my child’s mind akin to a soft, yummy marshmallow which had to be devoured. And so began the period of my eyes lighting up over Flumps and any other super soft, squishy marshmallow I could get my little hands on.

Marshmallows were a thing of beauty to behold and I used all my senses to explore them. I held them gently in my hand feeling their smoothness and stroked them across my lips before biting into their soft centre. I let them melt in my mouth. My eyes swam in their colours (yellow body with a pink swirl - my fav). They were tactile - I could squish them with my thumb and finger into a gooey ball to play with. They smelt of sweet rainbow fluff. I tested how many I could fit into my mouth at a time (too many to remember exact figures). Like all children, I dissected and tested (I did this with KitKats, Marsbars, anything that could be taken apart).

These days, knowing what’s in them (beef gelatine and sugar) my relationship with marshmallows is over. But those delightful moments as a child, where I could go into realms of magic and wonder over a Flump, will stay with me forever.

Just listened to The Music of the Night and the love I have for this song remains. It truly builds in power and imagination. What an amazing storyline. The lyrics are quite exhilarating. I would stay with the Phantom in his opera house if he sang to me like that. 🎶