After reading this article about high heels I thought about my own love for them as a kid, trying mum’s on when I could. I felt cool. And high. Then as an adult, I realised my feet (and body) didn’t like them. Have you ever tried walking in flip flop high heels? I have. Impossible.

Day 18 - I look in the mirror now and see health. I look in the mirror now and see strength. I look in the mirror now and see a sassy dancer dancing back at me. I’m so deeply connected to the beat, the rhythm, the passion. I’m soaring. The song - Into the Fire - Kove, Folly Rae.

I’m a sucker for green eyes. Cats or humans. Maybe not snakes though. They’re a bit too dangerous for my liking. I wouldn’t want to get hypnotised 😃

Most photogenic cat ever? Quite possibly.

Travel featured lots as I grew up. Dad was in the travel industry so doing deals with hotels and tourist boards in different parts of the world was normal. We got to explore. We had lots of adventures. Here I remember a few.

As usual, my most fond travel memories relate to food. Lefkas in Greece gave me amazing chocolate and vanilla Mr Whippy ice-creams, Montreal showered me with giant multi-coloured bubblegums, Boston introduced me to excessive amounts of donuts and pancakes (so did Egypt for that matter). I think I went to heaven right there when I discovered my first Dunkin Donut shop - we never had anything like that in the UK back then. I got delicious homemade lemon ice-lollies at the Acropolis (so needed in the sweltering 40 degree heat), and super posh orange juice and madeira cake in a swanky hotel on the island. Travel was great for a tummy like mine.

We went on a road-trip to Greece. It took us six weeks. I remember fast driving along hairpin roads through the Dolomites to catch a ferry (we missed it) and mum threatening to leave dad because he’d flirted with a French lady and taken a cigarette from her when she offered. He was supposed to have given up. I ate a lot of cans of tuna and fresh tomatoes on that trip. Mum had a whole crate of them in the boot. I remember my mum arguing (in English) with a watermelon salesman in Italy at the side of the road because she thought 1000 lire was too much (it wasn’t, it just sounds it, poor guy). I also remember reading a lot of Roald Dahl on that trip instead of looking out of the window at the beautiful scenery.

My parents put up with a lot from me really. Apparently I tripped over at the side of a famous cathedral in Milan and mum said we all had to go back to the car. I can’t believe dad agreed when all he wanted to do was go and see the front of it. Talk about being under the thumb. He would tease us about that in later years - the cathedral he nearly saw.

In a Danish hotel at breakfast I got overzealous with the muesli, enjoying the sensation of it cascading into my bowl spoon after spoon. Fast forward and I had a whole pile of it in there and then decided I didn’t actually like it. I can remember dad’s face now, scowling, shoveling muesli sawdust into his mouth so as not to appear rude or ungrateful for the host’s hospitality. I don’t think I’d ever seen him eat so dramatically before. I learnt my lesson. Don’t like muesli. Definitely don’t like upsetting dad.

I remember police turning up at our apartment in Cyprus because mum had taken photos of an army base and they’d tracked us down and confiscated the films. They thought we were spies ha! I also remember sleepwalking to the end of the bed, peeing, and then climbing back in and going back to sleep. The next day I asked, did that actually happen? Yes. It did.

Silver linings. Don’t you just love them.

What a stunner.

I love the little ones at the back popping up and singing ‘hellooooo’.

Ever since I was little, I’ve adored the colours pink and purple. I was obsessed with keyrings, dolls, clothes, flowers in those colours and wore them often. My eyes felt happy when I looked at them. They made everything look perfect.

Then I grew up and became a teenager and everything went black. For years. Black hair, black clothes, black stuff. It was slimming I told myself. I looked unassuming. I didn’t want to be noticed. Maybe I wanted to disappear into my own shadow.

Then I became a hippy. Hung out in hippy communities, thought hippy things, sang and danced in a hippy way and was at one with everything. And my pink and purple re-emerged again, as bright as ever and I was thrilled about it. I could be a rainbow fairy again. I spent the next ten years tripping everyone out with my clothing choices. What colour would I wear today (it was always coordinated, I couldn’t bare colour clashes)? Would I have sparkles on my face? It made everyone happy, especially the kids in the school where I worked.

Now I’m enjoying a more simplistic appearance after my shift last year. I cut my hair, I gave my sparkles away, I welcomed in trousers and went minimal with black and grey tones - completely the opposite colours to what I used wear (I would once have screwed my nose up at wearing grey). I was inspired by Charlize Theron’s character as the bad-ass spy in Atomic Blonde. She was smart, sassy and sexy (and fought very well too). Colour is still there, I just can’t see me in a purple fairy outfit anytime soon.

I love these changes. I love not being stuck in certain patterns of behaviour. I love shaking things up. It’s good to remember that nothing lasts so enjoy it while it’s there. Go crazy, make wild choices, make people smile. Hide if you need to, enjoy the attention if you don’t.

I still love pink and purple. Now I admire their hues in flowers and it makes the bees look even more beautiful. 🐝🐝🌺🌺🌸🌸

My helpful garden companions follow me round, hang out while I water and take in the sunny breeze. They’re delightful company. I’m so lucky. It’s lovely. They’re super Zen. They chill, they sniff, they lie, they get the zoomies. Anything goes. Living in the present.

Purple pom pom flowers and bright fuzzy bees are a match made in heaven.

I’ve reintroduced cider vinegar into my morning routine. It’s a powerful cocktail taken in warm water, with coconut oil and a bit of honey. Still working on the volume of vinegar as yesterday it blew my throat up. When it’s just right, it feels like a special healing elixir. Sometimes, when I’m feeling extra brave I add a sprinkling of cayenne in too.

Day 17 - here we goooo! Something majorly profound happened in my dance today. I felt new sensations I’ve never felt before. I felt my CALVES. I could feel muscles tightening. Itty bitty sinews engaging. I was focusing on ‘Showgirl’ moves (one heal slightly raised and hip moving out to the same side - imagine seductively hailing a cab) when I sensed strength in my leg rather than numbness. Woah hello leg! You feel new and improved. Welcome.

They’re finally awake. Bring out the champagne. Ring a set of glorious golden bells. I can feel my calves. By Jove I nearly wept but instead I kept on dancing. Damn I feel strong. My posture is incredible. I’ve gained an inch in height. Everything’s coming together to make my life better than it’s ever been before. Yeeeehaaaaa.

This picture was taken when I’d finished some sit ups. Cookie loves me being horizontal. She zoomed over to give me her affection and received lots back in return. She’s such a darling little thing.

I’m really grateful for the musical journey I’m on. It’s helping me connect with my body and spirit. The spirit of movement. It started with trance, went harder, went softer, went slower and now it’s dancing to a different dnb beat with rhythmic explosions, passionate singing, cosmic trance vibes and full on stomp round the room industrial samples. I adore this process. It’s like my body is grinding and grounding down into the earth, playing with gravity, touching things and reaching places that have never been reached before. I adore discovering what I’m capable of and I couldn’t do it without the eclectic musical mix. Thank you creators and producers. You are part of my radical healing. I wonder what I’ll discover next.

The song today (I’ve had it on loads) - Stand High - Mind Vortex, Daniela.

Leo lovely, I wish, how I wish, you could always be kind to everyone you met, especially your ancient Auntie Cookie, rather than the demanding, clawing, bullying butt hole you sometimes turn into.

OOooo that was a lovely sleep. Thank you Holly for providing me with your snuggly clean shirt to lie on. It was all soft and warm for my sweet furry head to rest on. Think I’ll get up now…

Actually…maybe I’ll catch a few more winks. I’ll be up for dinner. Zzzzzzzz.

I have dyscalculia. Of lyrics.

All my life I’ve never quite been able to hear words in songs. I hear about one in every six though it depends on the singer’s vocal style. Now I look back at some of the lyrics and I think, my goodness, I had no idea that’s what they were singing about.

A beautiful melodic song, so sweet in its delivery can turn out to have not particularly nice lyrics. Sometimes dark. Sometimes derogatory. Then I’m torn because now I know, do I really want to fill my brain with negative stuff? I’m still deciding what I think about a Radiohead song I’m covering. It hasn’t got the brightest of lyrics but the melody is what attracted me to it in the first place all those years ago. It’s such a beautiful lament.

Melodies and beats are the way I connect with songs primarily and then anything I understand past that is a bonus (or not). Maybe I’m like it because I mostly listened to classical music as a kid.

I only just found out that Miss Hannigan in the musical Annie had a bathtub full of illegal gin. I thought it was water 😂

I’ve been watching swallows fledge this morning. Mum and dad flew out first followed by a whole gang of chattering un-coordinated babies. They whizzed, swooped and exploded their way across the beautiful paddock; ducking and diving, circling and spinning. How exhilarating.

Hot-tub warmth + Sunshine = Happy Catto

Minds. What a minefield. One minute I’m dancing, minding my own sweet business, enjoying the beat. The next I’ve started some story in my head where I could spend ages thinking, reacting, stressing, comparing, wondering about past or future events. I get in a loop and keep circling back round. Basically I’m not present. I’m looking in the past and to the future and before I know it half an hour has gone by and I’ve spent that time living in my own dramatic soap opera.

So I’d like to protect my mind, from myself. I can cause all sorts of doubt in there if I choose because it’s up to me to choose what I focus on. I wouldn’t let another person go on and on at me, poking and prodding me with their negative demands and conversation. So why do I let my negative thoughts control my present state of mind?

I am powerful. I can alter my own mood. I can create massive amounts of joy, love and excitment through what I think. I can change my whole outlook depending on what I think. With my mind I’ve even managed to think things true and change reality.

Once, I was at a gig and a couple of people right behind me were drunk and chatting away during the songs. I was getting quite annoyed (in my head). They just couldn’t help but jabber on. My mind was spoiling it for me. I kept focussing on them talking rather than listening to the songs. My attention was split.

Then I had an idea. I was going to think about them leaving instead. Rather than focus on what they were doing. So I re-focussed my attention. I spent a moment imagining them going away. ‘Just leave. Move. Go.’ I thought. And the next moment one of them went to the bar to get a drink leaving the other one friendless and silent and me in peace enjoying my most favourite song of the set. That was pretty cool.

For me, it’s about recognising when thoughts aren’t serving me and replacing them with something helpful. Breathing techniques for example. Breathing really does centre me. It’s just remembering to breathe using longer breaths because they’re the most effective ones. They bring me back to myself so I can’t think about anything else. It’s so true that many of us have forgotten the power of our breath. Gratitude is another focus. Look how much beauty I have in my life! And remembering that everything’s ok and all I’m experiencing is a first world problem.

So here’s me saying I’m not going to think low thoughts. I’m not going to criticise myself or others. I’m going to see the best in people no matter how crazy they are. I’m going to see the best in myself. I’m going to see the beauty in all the weird and wonderful situations of life. I’m going to be grateful for eveything I have. I’m going to see the glass half full.

Here’s to feeling lighter.

One last intricate look at those shiny lush butts 😍

Here we go. I’m officially writing on my new spangley keyboard. It feels amaaaaazing. Like all the best buttons I’ve ever pressed rolled into one. Silver, smooth pressy things of joy ready to brighten up my fingers at every touch. Obviously got a catto on me too. Yay.

Oh gosh. It’s happening….

Having a dance. Catto style. The song - Zola Blood - Play Out. Smooth electro lounge funk. I feel cooler just listening to it 😎