It's been over a week now since my return from the land that time forgot. My bosses sister had been unwell so I was posted to Snowdonia to assist in her recovery by helping on her smallholding.
A onetime glamour model way back in the 60's she still carries a beauty into her late 70's. Every morning she was donned in the same woolen jumper, her over-sized outdoor trousers and with her long silver hair casually clipped back, it's a certain kind of elegance that I can only dream of looking. In contrast, I would roll out of her spare bed bedraggled, hair all over the place because in my haste of packing I forgot my hairbrush.
However, don't let the fact that she was once on the front of magazines fool anyone to believing her quaint Welsh cottage with it's smallholding in the deepest darkest part of Snowdonia National Park is just a frivolous hobby. For starters, just existing in such challenging terrain requires a certain amount of guts. It is no walk in the park. And by golly, she has guts in the bucketful. When asked what she would like for her birthday one year by her brother, her answer was a cement mixure. This might give you an idea of the kind of lady she is.
Tenacious, formidable, independent and resourceful are perhaps just a few of the characteristics I would use to describe her. Most of her home has been rebuilt by her own fair hands, outbuildings used to house animals and perishable goods, they too were grafted from hard work and determination.
During my week of being there, it snowed for two days. I came to appreciate that life in the Mountains is all about survival.
Above everything including the animals, the Rayburn was priority to keep heated. It was the heartbeat of the farm and our only source of heat and hot water. Every morning was spent refilling the coal buckets, emptying the ash pan and riddling the stove. It was an art that required a certain kind of relationship, coaxing it back from the brink of extinguishing each morning. A technique that I never quite mastered during my time spent there.
Next was attending to the 8 cats, 4 dogs, 14 ducks, a blind Ram and Goose and 50 odd sheep. Only after they were fed could I have my breakfast in relative peace.
Following breakfast came all the other chores. Chopping kindling wood, topping up animal bedding, feed, fuel and deposing any rubbish. Amenities are not as readily accessible as they are in Hampshire, therefore, forward planning is essential in order to maintain smooth running of mountain life, even more so when it snows!
However, it wasn't all work. I was able to get out with a wonderful nearby neighbour from 3 miles away. I got to see some beautiful parts of Snowdonia National park and even had a go on a Coracle, a new one on me!
The whole week was certainly a new experience and one I felt privileged to have. Navigating unknown and unplanned situations that involved real and sometimes raw emotions, staying in somebody's home and paving a way to enable a brother and sister to communicate with one another really tested my diplomatic skills, empathy and compassion as well as my practical resourcefulness. On my arrival I must admit, I thought I had bitten off more than I could chew. Spending a night alone in unfamiliar territory, with a temperamental Rayburn and animals all missing their mistress and not even knowing at the time when she would return, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, compounded even more when the Newfoundland dog knocked me off my feet as I was coming down some steps outside. I still have the bruise to remind me.
Ironically I had to miss a training course that was during part of that week which was all about learning to deal with all the situations mentioned above. Perhaps the universe deemed me strong enough to cope. I did and for that I feel proud. I am also reminded of the most recent painting depicting snow capped peaks. (See previous post) I love how I seem to paint things into reality!
I'm even less sure what the future holds now. I was determined to have things planned this year but as this recent adventure proves, perhaps plans aren't always necessarily needed to move forward and it's ok to just allow things to unfold.
I feel like I am in the process of grieving right now. Last year was all about surviving, Just like my week in Snowdonia showed me, it was all I could do to just keep one foot in front of the other to survive, quite a feat in snow and mud. I couldn't afford myself to feel sad or frustrated or in fact anything other than to stay focused on getting fit and strong and to get what was necessary done. But now that I have regained my strength and my face, although doesn't feel like it used to, it is better than it was, waves of grief has been hitting me lately. It takes me by surprise because I feel like I have so much to look forward to. Perhaps the week was more emotionally draining than I realised.
New relationships will also bring up unhealed aspects of ourselves. And true to form, this one certainly is. My dreams are showing me signs so that I can work through them. I am grateful that my muse is a good listener. He holds a safe space for me to express my vulnerability and in doing so, he can too. This is new to me. I have always felt like I had to be the strong one in a relationship. Holding and supporting others. Sometimes it was in order to avoid my own fragility and sometimes it was because I didn't value my own needs. This time it feels different. This time, we can work through things together and I don't feel like I am doing it alone. So here's to a new journey. A journey built on mutual respect, trust and companionship. I will also appreciate my chalk filtered water from our own bore hole on the farm which is in stark comparison to the muddy brown mountain Spring water that came out the taps in Snowdonia!
