Meeting the Neighbours

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We have lived in our little country town for just over three years now, and apart from our misadventure when we ended up with sheep, we had not met our immediate neighbours.

Over the years I’ve become a bit of a hermit, albeit a happy one. I’ve led a very busy life, and now I love my peace and quiet. That being said, it’s important to meet the neighbours, especially when one lives on acres. It can be very isolating. And if you ever need to contact your neighbour, it’s good to pick up the phone and know whom you’re talking to.

So with that in mind, I was hoping for an opportunity to connect with our new neighbours, and as with all intentions, it wasn’t long before it arrived. A couple of weeks later, while making soup for my monthly cook-up, I looked up from my chopping board and noticed them across the paddock standing at the boundary fence. I thought, great ~ now’s the time to introduce ourselves, so hubby bounded up to say hello.

Sunday Musings - Meeting the NeighboursWith the ice broken, a date was set and over they came for an afternoon drink. They brought the wine ~ I’m not a drinker, but by golly they were good drops. And I did the food, which wasn’t bad either considering it was just an afternoon snack! Sunday Musings - Meeting the Neighbours

Sunday Musings - Meeting the Neighbours
Now it may be that we’re very personable, and it may be that they’re very personable, but we could not have picked a nicer couple to live next door to. With the same background of escaping the city, it turns out we have a lot in common ~ we talked real estate, business, travel, family, and even religion, and had lots of laughs.

And it also turns out, that the two of us girls are of similar minds. I’ve wanted a veggie patch for many years, but as hubby hasn’t warmed to the idea it has never eventuated. My new neighbour however, is a mad keen vegetable-grower. And she not only offered to share her ready-made patch of earth with me, in a moment of what I consider utter madness, said she’d come over and actually dig up our veggie patch! Apparently in her walks around the boundary, she has worked out exactly the right spot for it! Golly! It really is all about ‘ask and ye shall receive’ ~ if you put it out to the Universe with a big enough wish, eventually the opportunity presents itself.

Sunday Musings - Meeting the NeighboursSo we had the very best afternoon ~ a really fun meet and greet. We ate, we drank, we chatted, we laughed, and we made a right mess of the kitchen. Fortunately, we both love our privacy ~ that’s why we live on acres though I doubt it will be the last time we meet. Given the gardening enthusiasm, it may not be too long before I’m digging up the paddocks with the lovely energetic lady next door. Also, after finding out that our two cats visit them every night, if we ever need anyone to look after them for a few days, I think we’ve found the perfect couple to do it.

It’s a true statement indeed that one can pick ones friends, but not ones neighbours. Living where we do, we rarely see anyone unless we go into town, but knowing we have a super-friendly neighbourly vibe just on over the hill is a real blessing. Yes, meeting the neighbours is a good thing to do, and finding out they are kind, helpful people who know how to have a laugh, is even better.

Oh, and Universe ~ thank you for the nudge! I did after all ask for a veggie patch.

Know When To Get Out Of The Way

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Everyone would agree that it’s important to maintain balance and harmony in our lives. That means keeping our environment as positive as we can, and the people around us are a big part of that. While there is always a reason why people behave the way they do, sometimes we’re in tune with it, and sometimes we’re not.

Everyone has to work through their own stuff, and they have to do it their own way. However, we don’t always have to go along for the ride. If it doesn’t feel right for us, we don’t have to get involved.

For instance, I’m not comfortable with hostility or drama. By saying that I’m not in any way diminishing what people go through. Heaven knows I’ve had my dramatic moments in years gone by, so I understand it happens, and I have great compassion for those who are in pain and use hostility as a defence, but not as an ongoing way of dealing with life. It’s not for me.  I see it as wasted energy.

Also, if I don’t get out of the way, I find myself wanting to judge, and I don’t ever want to go there. And really, if the vibration feels wrong for me then I know it’s, someone else’s lesson, and it’s time to step aside, send good thoughts their way and let them do what they have to do.

When it comes to any disharmony that rattles me, it’s not only a clear indication of what I don’t want, it always reaffirms what I do want. And when you know it’s not about you ~ and you will always know ~ all you have to do is get out of the way and let it whistle right on by. We will never change how people behave, but we can choose how we respond, and we don’t have to let negative energy impact us. It’s a conscious choice to get out of its way, and by doing it, and sending positive energy their way we affirm our path and who we are.

Now, why not get in there and help I hear you ask? The thing is that if we are not in harmony with the energy, it’s very hard to help. By leaving it alone, it gives those involved a clear run to sort it out the way they are meant to, with folk who can help. Sometimes in the process of stepping aside, the relationship fades away ~ negativity loves company ~ and sometimes it doesn’t. If it does, I keep sending positive energy. It’s the best I can do. But either way, I have maintained my integrity.

So, if something doesn’t feel right, it’s easy ~ get out of the way and keep moving.

Inara Hawley © 2014

Winter Cook-Ups

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My hubby loves soup, especially when the weather is cold, so we have a lot of it in winter ~ almost every day in fact. But as the cook, what I love most about soup is being able to make a huge pot which will last for most of the week.

However, there’s nothing more boring than eating the same old soup every day. So with this in mind ~ variety is the spice of life, after all ~ about once a month I do a big winter cook-up of all of hubby’s favourites. I spend the day scrubbing, peeling and chopping a mountain of vegetables, which go into at least two big pots that bubble away on the stovetop simultaneously. Then it all goes into the freezer and its thumbs up, because it’s done for another month! On a cold winter’s night when you’d rather be by the fire than in the kitchen, there is nothing better than putting your hand in the freezer and pulling out a home-made soup ~ it’s the ultimate healthy fast food.

Winter Cook-Up - Soup Vegetables

Winter Cook-Up - Bubbling Soup

Winter Cook-Up - Cooling the Soup!

Winter Cook-Up - Freezing SoupA chef would say that a good soup requires a homemade broth as a base, and having grown up with my mother’s soups, they would be right. She always made a meat, chicken or fish broth first, and then used that to make the soup. In the days when I made bouillabaisse regularly for dinner parties, my fish broth was to die for, however, these days as most of my soups are vegetable-based they are all very basic and simple.

Hubby loves the blended variety, and his favourites are Tomato, Potato & Leek, Pumpkin & Sweet Potato, Pea & Ham, and Carrot. I’ve been making them for a very long time, originally from an old soup recipe book, but as all recipes go, my versions have changed a bit over the years depending on the ingredients I have at hand. That’s how basic they are ~ you will most likely already have all the ingredients in your fridge! Also, they are all fairly thick soups, and you can make them go further with the addition of cream or milk. So here they are as per my old recipe book. No doubt you will add your special touch, but as you will see they are all very, very easy.

A note regarding stock ~ I make up my own using my favourite stock-based seasoning, and I must say its top notch. For my taste buds, it adds exactly the right flavour, and I can add as much or as little as I like, so wherever the recipe says stock, this is what I am referring to: Marigold Swiss Vegetable Bouillon Powder.

Winter Cook-Ups - Marigold Swiss Vegetable Organic Bouillon

Winter Wook-Ups - Marigold Swiss Vegetable Salt Reduced Bouillon

Slow Cooker Pea & Ham Soup

Winter Cook-Ups - Pea and Ham Soup

This takes the longest to cook, but it’s very easy as it’s done in the slow cooker.

Ingredients:

  • 800g ham hock
  • 1 brown onion diced
  • 2 carrots chopped
  • 2 celery sticks chopped
  • 2 cups split peas well rinsed
  • 1 large clove of garlic chopped
  • 1 bay leaf
  • 8 cups of water

Method:
Place split peas on the bottom of the slow cooker. Add the vegetables and place the ham hock on top. Cover with the water and cook on high for 5 hours or until the meat is falling off the bone. When cooked, remove the ham, break the meat apart and keep it separate. Blend all the liquid till smooth. If you feel it needs extra seasoning then add it, however, I find it’s always just right. Serve soup with pieces of the meat and a dollop of cream if desired.

Quick Pea Soup

Winter Cook-Ups - Pea Soup

Here’s an idea for a quick pea soup. Everyone usually has a packet of frozen peas in their freezer, and at a pinch, this makes a decent soup when there’s nothing else in the cupboard. Just add vegetable stock or water and a stock-based seasoning powder, cook till tender and blend. It works, and I’ve even served it to guests!

Tomato Soup

Winter Cook-Ups - Tomato Soup

I really enjoy making this soup. I love tasting it as the flavour develops during the cooking process. So delicious!

Ingredients:

  • 3 tablespoons of butter
  • 2 onions chopped
  • 3 carrots diced
  • 1 1/3 kg of tomatoes cut up
  • 3 cups chicken or vegetable stock
  • 2-3 tablespoons fresh chopped herbs such as basil, parsley, marjoram or thyme (I usually don’t have them handy so they never get added, but I’m sure they would taste great!)

Method:
In a large saucepan, heat the butter and saute onions and carrots until the onion is transparent. Add tomatoes and cook over medium heat for 4-5 minutes. Add stock and herbs, and simmer for 40 minutes. When cooked, blend till smooth and add salt and pepper to taste. Serve with a dollop of sour cream or yoghurt and chopped chives.

Potato & Leek Soup

Winter Cook-Ups - Potato and Leek Soup

This is also delicious. It’s very hearty and goes well with grated cheese or bacon bits.

Ingredients:

  • 6 leeks washed and cut into rounds (don’t use the darkest green part)
  • 1 onion, chopped
  • ¼ cup butter
  • 5 potatoes, peeled and diced
  • ½ cup parsley, chopped (I usually don’t have this either!)
  • 6 cups chicken or vegetable stock

Method:
Saute leeks and onions in butter until tender. Add potatoes, parsley and stock, and simmer for half an hour until potatoes are tender. Blend till smooth and serve with a dollop of cream if desired, or your choice of grated cheese, bacon bits, or chopped chives.

Pumpkin & Sweet Potato Soup

Winter Cook-Ups - Pumpkin and Sweet Potato Soup

This is my version of Pumpkin Soup. It’s extremely simple. The combination of butternut pumpkin and sweet potato is something I stumbled upon when I wanted to stretch the soup one day, and as it tasted so good ~ it makes the soup sweeter ~ it’s now how I always make it.

Ingredients:

  • 1/2 butternut pumpkin, chopped
  • 1 large sweet potato
  • Enough water to cover
  • Stock-based seasoning powder to taste

Method:
You can do this either of two ways. Bake the pumpkin and sweet potato, which brings out the flavour, and then blend with warm stock until smooth, or simmer the pumpkin and sweet potato in stock until tender and then blend. Add salt to taste if required, though I find using the stock seasoning is sufficient. Serve with a dollop of cream if desired.

Minted Carrot Soup

Winter Cook-Ups - Minted Carrot Soup

This is my favourite of the blended soups. It’s a recipe given to me by a friend 30 years ago, and I have been making it ever since. I rarely have the parsley and mint to hand, but it tastes just as good without them.

Ingredients:

  • 1 kg carrots, sliced
  • 1 onion, chopped
  • 2 potatoes, chopped
  • 2 sticks celery, sliced
  • 6 shallots, chopped
  • I clove garlic, crushed
  • 90 grams of butter
  • 1 litre of water
  • 2 teaspoons of sugar
  • Salt or seasoning powder to taste
  • 2 tablespoons chopped parsley (again, I rarely have this on hand!)
  • 2 teaspoons chopped mint
  • ½ cup cream (optional)

Method:
Melt the butter. Then add the carrots, garlic, potatoes, onion, celery and shallots. Stir to coat the vegetables, then cover and cook gently for 5 minutes stirring occasionally. Do not let the vegetables brown. Add water and sugar, and simmer gently for about 10 minutes until vegetables are tender. Stir in the chopped parsley and mint. Blend till smooth, season to taste and if desired add the cream to the whole soup, or serve with a dollop of cream in each bowl.

So there you have it! I think everyone would agree that soup is the ultimate comfort food. Served with grated cheese, warm bread rolls, or even a rissole or a sausage or two, you can’t go wrong putting it on the table on a cold winter’s night! Without a doubt, it is a crowd pleaser, whether it is a crowd of two or twenty. But the best reason to make soup in our house is because I always hear hubby say, ‘Lovely soup!’ on the very first mouthful.

Enjoy! ♥

Inara Hawley © 2014

The Great Novel

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The Great NovelAh yes, the great novel. Some of us who love to write feel we may possibly have one of those within us, though how this is panning out in my life, I should be calling it the Illusive Novel! Nevertheless, with this in mind, some time back I decided to start seriously reviewing everything I was reading with the view to analysing what works best. And being an avid reader, I get through a lot of words most weeks.

Now I realise reviewing is very subjective, but the more writing I do, the more I find I am focusing on the quality of what I’m reading. And with my teaching background and basic experience in both proofreading and editing, assessment of any piece of writing is second nature to me ~ there is almost always something I could change!

Overall, it has been an interesting exercise as it has given me the opportunity to look at different genres, and examine themes, premise, plots and writing styles. So, what did I notice? Apart from discovering a few wonderful authors, most of what is out there for the general reading public is fairly ordinary, which is surprising, given that it actually gets published. But the main thing, for my reading pleasure, is that there are often far too many unnecessary words.

And that is the quandary. I am a person who doesn’t like to waste words. Now there is a big difference between well-crafted sentences that leave one breathless with their beauty and insight, and words that just fill a page. For me, the page-fillers are what drag a novel into total boredom. But given that all the words of a novel would, for many readers, be a necessary part of their reading experience, could I ever get enough words together to write a novel?

And then there is the emotional journey of writing a novel. Does one need to experience the full impact of what one is writing about? I would say most definitely! To date I have only written about real experiences, and undeniably, the personal impact has been great. However, turning those experiences into a novel would be something quite different. Would I examine the subject matter sufficiently to get out of it what it deserves? Would I delve deeply enough into characters which my audience could relate to? Would I describe the setting and the scenes well enough so that the reader was transported there? Would the quality of my writing pass my own standards? Would I engage the reader, and would I use enough words?

While I’m far from light and fluffy, I’ve never been one for rambling on either. Concise and to the point suits me just fine. The older I get the less questions I ask, the less drama I focus on, and the less I have to say about the problems of the world. It’s that ‘been there, done that’ feeling. But of course, it’s deep and intense involvement which makes for a great novel. And when I was much younger, like everyone else, I felt all those deeply intense emotions. It’s probably then that I should have written a novel ~ when all the highs and lows were ripe and bursting. If I had had the time, I probably would have.

Today, however, I don’t really want to revisit those intense highs and lows in such great detail, and to write a novel I would have to do just that: revisit tension and drama. Not so long ago I was dumped by a social media ‘friend’ because we hadn’t interacted for quite some time. Truth is I couldn’t take the ongoing drama so I stopped communicating. The energy just didn’t fit. So I withdrew and waited for the chop, and thankfully it came. I sent her off with smiley wings, and with a sigh of relief, went back to focusing on the important stuff ~ being happy.

The Great Novel - Inara HawleyAnd therein lies the whole question. Am I prepared to go to the depths of what it takes to write a novel when my life is all about focusing on joy and happiness?

I know the more writing I do, the better I get, but do all the scribbled notes, thoughts and ideas that litter my desk make me a novel writer in-waiting? We shall see. Maybe one of these days I will be willing to find enough words to explore a meaningful subject through insightful characters, and tell a story which takes me to the heights of joy. Just maybe!

Inara Hawley © 2014

There Are No Accidents

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There are no accidents. Knowing what I know now, I believe that to be a true statement, for when we live with awareness, we will always find the connection, the reason or the lesson.

Twenty one years ago I had a car accident, one which changed my life forever. It was the biggest learning curve of my life, and today I am all the wiser for it. The years of dealing with a severe injury was where my greatest lessons lived ~ in the pain, the panic, the fear, the anger, the frustration, the despair, and in the will to keep going. And the instant it happened I knew ~ when the car stopped spinning, and I was able to get out, I looked at the wreck and said aloud, “What do I have to learn from this?” And learn I did … for year and years.

My body fell apart a few weeks later ~ one night I awoke and couldn’t breathe. The twisted metal of the car seat should have been a clue. It was so badly damaged it could not be repaired, and for a very long time it seemed my body may not be able to be repaired either. I was in constant pain, I couldn’t get a proper breath, I could barely walk, I couldn’t use my arms … I couldn’t do anything ~ I was trapped. Everything which represented who I was … was gone. Instead, every fibre of my being was focused on surviving the next second … and the next … and the next. It was so intense, if a bomb had gone off next to me I wouldn’t have noticed. I was no longer the nurturing mother, the supportive wife, the doer, the giver, the loyal friend, the keeper of my house, the achiever, the university student, or the partner in our family business. Except for my will to survive I was stripped bare.

About ten years after the accident I started writing a book, the purpose of which was to help others going through a similar experience. In the early years an acquaintance, one of those good people who throw you a lifeline when you need it most, lent me exactly such a book written by a man who had survived a serious car accident. At the time his words were a godsend ~ someone out there actually understood what I was going through. An injury such as mine, with massive soft tissue damage, long term inflammation, and no broken bones or outward signs of injury, is hard to deal with. I would imagine it is very similar to depression, asthma or rheumatoid arthritis … invisible to those around you, but always the silent companion walking beside you. It never complains out loud, only you know it’s there. And because there are no bandages, the support you so desperately need is not there. Not because no one cares, but because no one notices or understands. Only the closest ones know, and while they do their best, even they cannot share your journey.

Today I am too far removed from the events to ever finish the book. I have no desire to call myself a survivor, nor do I wish to revisit those desperate times of panic, struggle and uncertainty. I define myself by what I’ve learned, not by the struggle. I worked through each step with purpose and determination, and have no desire to step back into yesterday’s emotions. When I look back at my journals they are harrowing ~ my despair and isolation was overpowering, but so was my hope, my strength and my courage. If I had not been such a positive person I might have given up, but I didn’t. I was determined to get better. I have always believed that I could heal myself, both on a physical and spiritual level, and I was prepared to explore anything and everything to get there. I saw doctors, specialists, spiritual healers and every kind of alternative therapist you could imagine. For the first three years I had physical therapy every day except Sunday. It was my safety net. But ultimately, it was when my head space changed that the journey changed.

One day I stopped fighting. In a moment of utter desperation I heard myself scream, “Die now or get better!”. I had challenged the Universe and fully expected to be struck down, but it didn’t happen, and that’s when I surrendered. I let go of resistance and instantly changed the vibration. I stopped focusing on the pain and the struggle.

The next few years were a mind-blowing time. I left no stone unturned in my quest to open my mind and my heart, and connect to the healing energy within. I meditated myself into oblivion. I created affirmations, recorded them for my meditations, worked on releasing cell trauma, imagined a better quality of life where I could move and breath freely and easily, aligned myself with ease and flow, and saw myself as ‘new’. I also discovered deep tissue laser therapy, and that was like a magic key. It broke down the scar tissue, and allowed a courageous therapist, one who had the guts to do what was needed no matter how painful, to put everything back in its place. Slowly I started to improve. And in the years that followed I finished my university degree, taught in a classroom, was able to get back into our business, and bit by bit create a garden. I was holding it together, and I was getting better.

It took fifteen years to get to a place where my body felt reasonably stable ~ where I had more good days than bad, where I could get a decent night’s sleep, and where I felt well enough to plan for something in the knowledge that I would be able to fulfil it. I still have to pace myself, but now I am able to do many of the things I once took for granted … simple things which fill me with immense appreciation and gratitude.

So what did I learn and what did I change? I learned to look after myself first ~ to pay attention to my body. I learned to ask for help, and I let go of being the eternal fixer-upper. I examined my beliefs, and let go of fear and perfection. I learned to trust on the highest level. I learned to validate what someone is going through ~ to honour their strength and courage. I also created a peaceful place within, one which I can go to anytime. I learned to find the joy and live in the moment, and I connected to the infinite source of love.

It’s in the dark night of the soul that we reach out to touch what we need to move into the oneness of the light, and that’s exactly what I did. And if we are brave enough to be truly honest with ourselves, the steps we take forward will be sure-footed, and we will find the right path. This is a poem I wrote about a year after the accident, when one day, my mother said to me, “Insi, you are very brave”. And I thought, yes I am. It’s simple but expresses exactly how I felt at the time.

I Am Very Brave

I am very brave
For I want to save
My body, my mind
Not leave it behind
To see a new day
With the pain gone away
Is where I will be
Just wait and see

I am very brave
I don’t hide in a cave
I go forth and try
With my head held high
I won’t give in
For me that’s a sin
My body can make it
It’s just hard to take it

I am very brave
Even when I rant and rave
Then I yell and scream
Till I run out of steam
I feel lonely and sad
Sometimes it’s so bad
My body hurts so much
That I just lose touch

I am very brave
For I choose to behave
Like I can cope
And I don’t mope
It’s been so hard
From my life I’ve been barred
I hate being trapped
But it’s like its been mapped

I am very brave
I’m in touch with a wave
That helps me to flow
And cope with the blow
I’ve learned many things
It’s like I’ve grown wings
Sometimes I feel I could fly
Right up to the sky

I am very brave
For now I don’t crave
To have what is past
I feel safe at last
I’ve let go of the fear
That made things unclear
I now dance with the ‘All’
And I know I won’t fall

I am very brave
For I know what to save
Often I wondered
And sometimes I blundered
But with the love of those dear
My path is now clear
This moment’s the one
To feel joy and fun

I am very brave
For now I behave
How I really feel
And it’s no big deal
To myself I am true
For me, and for you
I know I can do it
I will get through it

Inara Hawley © 2014

 

The Garden in My Heart

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There are some experiences in life which are so connected to a specific time and place that they stay alive forever. One such experience for me was gardening. I was never much of a gardener in my younger days, nor do I do a great deal of gardening today. These days I am more of a ‘plant and let it be’ than a ‘plant and nurture’ type of gardener, but there is one garden that is and will always be embedded in my heart.

For most of my married life I’ve lived on acres ~ lots of trees, paddocks, and animals. And that has suited me just fine. There is nothing I like better than being surrounded by tall leafy trees and grassy hills. So apart from indoor pot plants, I never had the desire to plant a thing. That is, until we bought a rugged 30 acre hillside nestled on the western edge of the Blue Mountains.

First Post - The Garden in My Heart

Hubby putting in the first marker for the house

It was a magnificent spot ~ the highest point in a vast valley, reported to be the second largest sunken valley in the world. With escarpment views, a hillside of majestic pines, and a resident mob of kangaroos, it was high, rocky, wild and windy, and stunningly beautiful.

House - Garden in My Heart

Our house when the gardens were completed

Entrance - Garden in My Heart

Our entrance ~ we named the property ‘Karawatha’, the Aboriginal word for ‘Place of Pines’

After, the house was built and the outbuildings were finished, it was time to tackle our sloping gravelly hillside… and our valley had just the man to do it! He was a feisty little Irishman, and a very talented landscaper. He walked around the house, up and down the slopes, and without any discussion said, “Leave it to me”. And so I did. A thousand, yes a thousand, railway sleepers later we had a 50 metre retaining wall with a 3 tiered garden and steps up through the centre, plus ten other retained garden areas, and walkways. It was fantastic!

The Garden in My Heart

Part of the garden when it was fully grown

The Garden in My Heart

The view from the front verandah

When it was all finally finished and filled with lovely rich soil, it was my turn, and for the first time in my life, I had a garden. It was definitely my time, and for the next ten years I planted, tended and nurtured every plant as if it were an extension of me. I fell in love with it. On summer evenings, my favourite thing to do was water the garden late at night to the chorus of cicadas. And in the mornings, I walked the pathways with my cup of tea, pulled a few weeds, looked at the amazing view, and with immense gratitude, felt one with the Universe. It was a wonderful garden ~ an absolute paradise.

Hubby and I both really loved it, and it was in fact what kept us sane. At the time we had a busy real estate office ~ the only one in the valley, and it was hectic. But when we got home and locked that gate behind us, we were free! We had our animals at our feet, the kangaroos grazing in our front paddock, the rabbits hopping about, the mountain birds visiting our birdfeeders, the wedge-tailed eagles soaring through the sky, and of course, the garden and the view. When we sat on our front verandah with a glass of red soaking up the magic, all was right with the world. I can still see it and feel it. We were so high up, we felt like we owned the valley. It was wonderful.

Cabin - The Garden in My Heart

One of the two cabins we built on the property

But the day came when we decided to move on. We had sold our real estate office to a lovely local couple, and built two luxury accommodation cabins on the property. While that was a great business decision, what we really wanted was to downsize. I was more than happy to hand over a fully furnished house and two cabins. As it was a walk in-walk out sale we left everything, including our beds, but the garden was another matter. It held my heart.

The day we moved I was left on my own waiting for a truck to arrive, and that’s when I said goodbye to my garden. It was a heartrending moment ~ really difficult, until suddenly I knew what to do. I would leave my garden with some words of love. I found the perfect piece of wood in the shed, and with a marking pen, on its smooth surface I wrote the following:

‘Inara’s Garden 1993 ~ 2004 With Love’

I knew it wouldn’t last beyond a month or so in the weather, but as I placed it amongst the diosmas, I felt it was exactly the right thing to do. It was a symbolic gesture that embodied everything I felt about a garden which had brought me so much pleasure. I have visited since, and while the hundreds of trees we planted now majestically reach for the sky, the garden is not what it was. But it doesn’t matter, because in my heart, it will always be as beautiful as I left it, and that will always be mine.

Inara Hawley © 2014

Caring Matters

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The sense of community in a small town can be delightful. Our town in particular is one full of happy vibes and kindness. But while kindness is a wonderful thing and should never be underrated, caring matters even more.

Recently there was a competition in our small town, which involved a bit of creative thought and expertise. Hubby and I were given entry forms, but as I popped them under my arm I thought no more of it. However, after a few days I realised we had to make the effort. After all, we live in a small town, and if we want to be part of the community, we can’t ignore it.

So we put our thinking caps on and surprisingly, hubby came up with a very creative idea, and being the good wife that I am, I executed it just as creatively on his behalf. When it was finished I was pleased. It was a pretty good effort, and I thought it had a good chance of winning.

On the day, however, a lady with a very average entry won it. A little later when everyone was having their tea and cake, one of the staff members quietly sidled over to hubby and said, “Yours was the best you know, but we all thought she needed a lift”. And so she did, as hubby watched her leave with a basket of goodies and a great big smile.

Yes, kindness matters, but caring matters even more, especially in a small town, for without it there would be no sense of community. I love living in a small town. ‪

Inara Hawley © 2014

The Final Edit

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The Final Edit - A Good LifeHappy dance ~ the final edit is done! The words are written, the photographs are all in, and the formatting is done ~ it’s finished. A year of solid work is now polished and shining. Hubby’s memoir, ‘A Good Life’, is now ready for the printer, and there’s no better feeling than being satisfied with the end result. It’s exactly how I envisaged it would be, and Hubby is very happy to have a record of his life. For him, it has been a long held desire and he has dedicated the book to his four beautiful daughters with the following words: “To know your ancestors is to know yourself”.

The Final Edit - Conversations With My MotherThis is my second labour-of-love book for the family. The first, ‘Conversations With My Mother’, was the story of my parents’ life from their early days in Latvia where they were born, leaving behind their beloved homeland, surviving the Second World War and crossing the oceans as refugees to start a new life in a country further away than they could ever have imagined. Sitting and talking with my mother about their life was a gift and a blessing. Putting it all into words was for me, an intense and emotional journey, one which took two years and a lot of tears. When I finally put the book into my mother’s hands I could see how much it mattered. It was her legacy.

Hubby’s memoir, however, was quite a different journey ~ it is about a very pleasurable and happy life. I worked from his notes, which he had put together over a five year period. Each time he sat down to write, he did it randomly from memory without referring to his previous notes, so there was not only repetition, but time gaps as well. A challenge indeed, but a beginning nonetheless … and there’s nothing I like better than a good challenge!

I sorted, edited, and added words, and asked lots of questions, the most frequent of which was: “And how did you feel about that?” I also followed his brief, putting it together the way he wanted it structured, and of course, wrote in his voice. Expressing someone’s life and thoughts onto the page is a most unique and rewarding experience. The end result is 81,200 words and 370 pages covering 4-5 generations of ancestry research, and the life and times of a man who has had a very good life indeed.

When I picked it up again last week for the final edit (there have been at least three previous edits), I had not looked at it for about 12 months, and I must say, it was a great feeling to find that I was impressed ~ it’s good! And it reminded me of how much I love the whole process from start to finish. For me, the challenge at the beginning is like a little tickle which births an exciting bubble that grows with each new page of words. In its creation it becomes a world of its own, one which I stepped into every day and made mine until it was finished, until that final edit when the pages were not part of me anymore, but an entity of their own. Then I knew it was done.

One day I’ll turn my hand to fiction, but for now, what I enjoy most is writing true-life stories and exploring what they mean to each one of us. That’s what this blog is all about, and one day, my stories will become part of my book. I hope that the final edit is something I will always be working towards.

Inara Hawley © 2014

Easy Fruit Cake

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Fruit Cake Recipe - Sunday Msings

A quick ‘foodie’ blog today for a recipe which has turned into a favourite for Hubby, and as I am the No-Cook Cook, you can bet it’s going to be easy! It’s a fruit cake I baked this past Christmas, thanks to a friend who gave me the recipe. Of course, I have tweaked it a bit as I do with all recipes, to suit our tastes. Something I am sure you will do as well if you try it.

When Hubby was growing up fruit cake was a staple. His mother made boiled fruit cake every single week. I have her recipe somewhere, but in thinking back to the days when I made it, it was somewhat crumbly and not nearly as moist. This cake is so moist you could almost call it a pudding. It’s because the recipe is chock-a-block full of fruit, which to be honest, is what Hubby and I prefer to a dry fruit cake.

I’ve been meaning to post it for ages. Then the other day, we had an unexpected visit from old friends and out came the fruit cake. It was such a success, I promised I would pass on the recipe. So here it is.

Easy Fruit Cake

Easy Fruity Fruit Cake Easy Fruity Fruit Cake

Ingredients ~ Makes 6 small tin loaves or 3 medium tin loaves 

  • 1 kg mixed dried fruit
  • 650 m white coffee, chocolate milk or any kind of plain milk ~ I use oat milk
  • 280 g -300 g self-raising flour

Other options:

  • The addition of rum or brandy is nice for Christmas
  • Adding lightly crushed walnuts gives a good texture
  • Adding dark chocolate chips makes for a lovely rich cake
  • Note: if you prefer your cake to be less fruity then alter the recipe accordingly

Method:

  • Soak the fruit in milk overnight in the fridge in a covered container. The longer the better. I soak mine for about 3 days ~ it makes for a super moist and much nicer cake. Check the fruit each day to ensure it is still covered with milk, give it a good mix and add a little extra liquid if needed.
  • When you are ready to bake your cake, add the flour to your container of fruit and mix well until combined. If the mixture is too liquid then add a bit more flour, and vice versa if too dry. The consistency has to be sticky.
  • Spoon mixture into prepared tins and bake for about an hour at 150 degrees, or until the skewer comes out clean, for the small loaf tins and longer if using the medium loaf tins. If you are making one large cake, then you will need to bake it for about an hour and a half, but being the wonderful cooks that you all are, I am sure you will know exactly when your cake is cooked!

I hope you enjoy it ~ Hubby does, nearly every day. Happy cooking!

Inara Hawley © 2014

Tennis Anyone?

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For me the phrase ‘Tennis anyone?’ has always conjured up a mental picture of clear blue skies, white outfits, sun visor caps, and hitting a few balls around the court. However, the real fact of the matter is that there are those who ‘really’ play tennis, and those who don’t, and there are good reasons why.

When hubby and I were first married, we decided to get fit … as you do when you’re young and energetic, and tennis was how we chose to do it. Hubby had played quite a lot of it in his younger days, and as it had been my chosen summer sport in high school, we figured tennis was definitely for us. So with the court booked for a daily hit, off we trotted every morning at 7 a.m. sharp with balls and rackets in tow, and looking very sharp in our tennis gear.

And we loved it! Full of morning energy we’d get out there and serve with confidence, relishing that sound the ball makes after it hits the racket. And then we’d tear around the court trying to hit it at the other end. We thought we were doing really well. We’d arrive home hot and sweaty, jump into the shower, and because we felt so terrific after running around for an hour, we’d say to each other, ‘Wasn’t that great!’ Oh yes, we were playing tennis!

Then one morning, about a week or so later, the owner of the courts sauntered over as we were leaving, and with a good natured good-morning nod said, “I’ve been watching you two!” And then as he slowly shook his head from side to side, the look on his face said it all. Obviously we weren’t doing nearly as well as we thought ~ we needed lessons, and the very next day we were hitting balls that were flying at us from a machine!

But that became very boring, as did the game of tennis, and we soon gave it up. Why? Because for us there was no sense of healthy competition! Not the kind where you want to wipe others out at all cost and win; the kind where you get a spark to try harder. Hubby and I have certainly never been in competition with each other. We are partners, both in marriage and business, and our partnership has always been built on teamwork. In how we operated our business, however, we always had that competitive edge. But unfortunately, tennis just didn’t do it for us.

While plenty of people will say otherwise, having a healthy competitive spirit can be a good thing. As I have intimated, I’m not talking about comparing yourself with others or competing for a trophy. I’m talking about using it to challenge ourselves, learn, grow and move forward. Of course we learn and grow in many ways, and healthy competition is but one. On a spiritual level, there is no competition, but in our everyday lives, it is not only a natural thing, it can be extremely useful. It can create incentive and be motivational, energising a fire within that helps us do better, take a chance and even try something new. It can also help us be more creative and inventive, and in so doing, it spurs innovation.

Even in the most competitive environment, if we stay true to high ethical standards while seeking our goal, then competition can be a very healthy growth experience. It helps to set benchmarks and encourages progress. Without it, where would civilization be?

So, there was no ‘game, set, and match’ in our tennis experience. If someone was to say: ‘Tennis anyone?’ I don’t think we would even bother to look up, but give us a challenge where we could tickle our competitive spirit, and we’d feel right at home. We’d play that game very well indeed and have loads of fun doing it too!

Inara Hawley © 2014