And sometimes I wonder will I ever stop feeling angry

....angry at the fact that I have no control over my reproductive rights, despite living in the UK. Angry at the fact that desperate girls and woman resort to desperate measures in order to achieve some sort of control over their lives. Angry that. as a woman I am still treated as inferior to men, both socially and legally. Angry that I live in a country which, by dint of decades of death and suffering, is a largely narrow minded, vicious place, full of narrow minded, vicious people. Angry that I still love it, and some of the people in it, and I can't leave because of that. Angry that a 30 minute taxi trive costs £40. Angry that old people in my area were left without water for days, because the powers that be think they don't matter. Angry that our so-called environmental minister in our pissant little government doesn't actually believe in climate change. Angry that another prominent politician thinks that gays are an abomination, and what's more, nine tenths of the country agree with her. Angry that I am subject to petty laws made by people with brains like mud, who are so obsessed with my body and my sexuality and my "morality" that they want to force their perversions on me.

Angry that, no matter what I do, it's like battering on the biggest door in the world, because it isn't going to change, and nobody of any wit will be given the chance to change it.

Oh, and to rub salt into the wound, these people think they are morally better than everyone else. They think they have the right to judge anyone else.

Funny that. Funny because it was them, their generation, their screwed up ideals, which turned this country into the miniature bloodbath it was not so very many years ago. The whole bloody lot of them.

Evie's Kitchen.

Evie's Kitchen, by Shazzie This book is great! Firstly, it has lots of lovely pictures and a very funky front cover. And the paper doesn't make that squeaking sound against your nails. That's a bit of a ridiculous reason to love a book, but I can't properly enjoy a book if the paper sets my teeth on edge.

I approached it with some trepidation at first. Oh, I thought, I may try to incorporate more raw into my diet, but I'm not vegan, in fact I'm not even vegetarian (every day except Sundays).

I also noticed the section on "ecstatic birthing". Oh dear, the author will have had the most fantastic, perfect 100% natural birth under a tree somewhere. And there'll be a little bit on how damaging c-sections are. Sigh.

Nothing of the sort. I very quickly realised that this was a sensitive, and sensible book, well written and presented, sometimes funny, sometimes very sad.

As for the birth section- turned out the author had a section herself. Not only that, but it was a good c-section birth story. It made me really happy actually- she points out that "just because someone opts for a c-section doesn't mean the mother-child relationship is invalidated" Somebody give that lady a hug.

It means a lot to hear that, taking into account the number of times I've read the complete opposite. Proof that any sort of birth can be ecstatic, it just depends on how it is handled.

The recipes themselves were fabulous. I don't have a dehydrater, but there were tons of recipes that didn't require one. The sweet ones for instance. Nomnomnomnom. You need to see that chocolate cake.

My motherdearest dipped in and out of the book too. Her little eyes lit up, and she told me that she'd been a raw foodie for a while in her twenties. How come I didn't know this? After a bit of discussion, I think we are going to aquire a dehydrater at some point, via group effort.

Anyway, in general, I really enjoyed this book. It was very encouraging, full of useful information, and of course a lovely example of real parenting in the way described. I came away from it feeling really happy. Maybe it was because it was so non-judgemental- any sprinkle of "holier than thou" tends to put me right off a book. Yet the message still came across strongly and clearly. I really enjoyed reading it and would recommend it to anybody, even the most meat-eating carnivore.

Reappreciation

Sometimes. as the cold weather drags dark nights with it, it can be easy to fall into a bit of a stodgy time. Winter should be stodgy,to an extent, but I think it's important to keep busy. In summer, if you stodge for a day you can easily make up for it the next, but in winter, day after day can go by where things are left a little long.

I'd been thinking it was time to get my act together a little. I like to form plans. Funnily enough, the latest issue of The Mother popped through my door,with 50 ready-made ideas for things to do over winter...that included limited stodging.

Go for a walk every day- we already do that, but maybe we should lengthen it a little. And diversify. We could make leafboats to sail on those puddles, for instance.

We've got a little further with the garden but there's still a rockery excursion to make

And,of course, six weeks until Christmas. Baking and making a-plenty.

It's hard to prioritise. especially when you don't even have the room to stop and give yourself a good shake. I'm not going to indulge in my favourite winter occupation this year, which is longing for Spring. I'm going to take Winter as it comes, and use it as a time to re-charge, instead of wasting all that energy on hating the rain, and loathing the mud, and being a little too scared of the wind, which can be so hard and fierce here.

Another area that needs appreciation: health. Today I was at the opticians, and without going into too many details I have an eye conditon called Keratoconus. It's perfectly treatable, but if it's left untreated it can severely affect sight, to the point of blindness.

Now, throw the word "blind" at me, in whatever context, and chances are I'll run round like that daft woman in The Birds when she's being chased by a seagull. It can also in some cases need a cornea transplant. Ick. Don't google cornea transplants, your eyes will start to inadvertantly sting.

Anyway, it's not the end of the world, and it's really nothing major (though try telling me that 3 hours ago). but it made me realise: being told there's something wrong with you, or a close family member, is scary. It shakes you up a little, no matter how trivial it is. We all think we're so damn invincible.

I don't know how people cope when they are told they have really serious stuff, breast cancer, or their small child has leaukaemia, or their baby won't survive past the womb. I really don't know how they do it. I think I'd go mad. How do they remember to do the basic things, like put one foot in front of the other?

Sometimes little things can be big reminders of how much we should appreciate what we have. Like support from friends and aquaintances, be it in "real life" or online. Words help, and should be valued, even if you've never met the person face-to-face. I certainly value anybody who has given me the time of day to offer a bit of wisdom.

And basic health, and children, even if they do push the buttons at times. Christmas too. Rituals, both family and personal. No wonder as humans we live so much on ritual. Everything else is fairly transient.

And I suppose that's my five pounds worth for the day =]