Category Archives: Food

Surprised by Jam

I am getting better, slowly and incrementally.

Somehow, this happened.

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Strawberry fridge jam. From Mr Fearnley-Whittingstall‘s recipe. I don’t think it’s going to hang around long.

We are a few weeks away from moving house. I am delighting in sorting out much of our houseful of accumulations and speculating on what is worth keeping.

Mindful Eating

Beating depression and anxiety is akin to marching uphill. Marching daily against the laws of emotional entropy and greedy gravity.

It turns out I don’t march so well on a full stomach. I have been comfort eating now for the past few months to the point where I don’t feel right watching TV or starting the next activity without a snack and there is always always a reason to eat. This is not right. I’ve been here before: I graduated several sizes larger than usual because eating and revision just go so well together. I changed my eating habits and lost weight gradually and sufficiently to marry three years later a size or two smaller than usual.

Marriage doesn’t always mean keeping the weight off. Those inches kept creeping back. I have never minded much how I look, but for the sake of my family and my arteries I have been having reservations about all the calories and unhealthy snacks I’ve been consuming lately.

I mentioned these worries to my counsellor recently, who had a great tool for me to use. I want to share it here for my own accountability and to encourage others. I have tried it for the past few days and it is having some success already.

It is an acronym. When I feel like eating, I need to ask myself:

Am I Hungry?

Am I Angry?

Am I Lonely?

Am I Tired?

If I am angry, lonely or tired, there are solutions which do not involve food (and I can ask others to help me in this too). If I am genuinely hungry, I should stop and think what my body actually needs to eat. What does my body really crave? Part of learning mindfulness to beat anxiety is in recognising thinking habits, acknowledging worries, anger and fears and becoming very aware of the moment. When you stop and savour something all your senses can be used. If I tune in to what my body really needs I can start to provide it. Sometimes my children just need an orange, or some milk, or a tomato. They are more in tune with their bodies’ needs than I am. I’m still in creme egg season and using food up because we have it, not because it is what would bring healing and wholeness.

There is still a time for cheese straws and chocolate. But there is also a time for carrots and kale. I am not going to tackle this one head on because I have a real problem with eating too much and too often. I am going to go at it slowly but surely. Having the HALT principle will help me, because I work well with a general rule. These next few weeks I am hoping to learn to savour things better and enjoy what is good and right.

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House-hunting Outside the Box

 

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My dad calls it divergent thinking, but I suspect my need to think outside the box in any and every situation has been a large part of my mental health issues these last twelve months. If I have one thought it spreads like a firework. If I have a box of thoughts, I need plenty of space to watch all the fireworks.

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When I got very ill twelve months ago the fireworks fizzled and fell. I had to accept limitations and let go.

This letting go has not come about lightly: there are a dozen areas I would like to do more in, a hundred people I would like to help, a thousand things that need thinking through.

But I am learning to let go. Let go of ideals I cannot reach. Let go of people who hurt me. Let go of wrong self-image. Let go of anger. Let go of trying to ‘achieve’ to impress. Let go of turning up the heat. The cold never bothered me anyway.

I am now at a stage where I need to harness what is good and right about my divergent thinking. The instant creativity when I’m in a good place and Joe decides we need to make an apple tree from things in the kitchen, for example. Or helping Lily remember a new times table. Or finding a recipe for ingredients we already have in. Being academically thorough because it hurts not to. Little baby steps that indicate I’m heading in a good direction.

And I’m part of a great team. My husband is single-minded and inspires me to focus rather than diverge. As a result we now have a great ‘get the house ready for viewings’ system, including keeping things in sensible places, having empty drawers at the ready for items on surfaces and not panicking when the ‘wrong’ load of washing is doing as I know it will all get straightened out soon and that I’m going to be ok whatever the outcome. Just keep swimming, Lucy.

We are convinced that God’s purposes are driving our endeavours to relocate, so the emotional energy I have can be spent focused on practical and reasonable tasks. Today Joe and I got to toddlers; a wonderful opportunity to see friends and how things have developed in great ways there. Later this afternoon I showed the fifth couple in eight days around our house. It used up all I had left emotionally. Corners have to be cut elsewhere: manageable cleaning and tidying, efficient use of time, time off alone, not counting the calories, not stressing over what I cannot control. Improvements are evident in lots of directions, for which I am utterly grateful, even when pushed to my emotional limits.

One task I love doing is house-hunting, and I go at it with a combination of God-driven purpose, single-mindedness learnt from my husband and outside-the-box problem-solving techniques I can’t help but bring to the table. One of my sustaining strengths is writing and it appears that another is researching.

Cycle of Grace

Armed with access to the internet and a couple of clever spreadsheets, I review the houses that have appeared on our search radius on a frequent basis. They are constantly changing as we are moving to an area of short supply and high demand. A house we viewed at the weekend is currently in a bidding war and already at  £43,000 above the asking price, days after appearing on the market. We did not bid on it, as we cannot buy until we sell. But I am making sure I do my outside-the-box homework. Systematically.

Rightmove is the most useful of the property search websites I use, with their various search tools, floor plans, school distance maps, and invaluable Saved Properties feature. Zoopla is better for learning about sold house prices, with interesting heat maps and information on what sold in various streets if you are prepared to work through in detail when you are serious about a property. As we are searching within a target geographical area we’ve realised it also pays to get registered with local agents who send you information ahead of homes appearing on the market and to check their own websites, which update sooner than Rightmove.

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We like to know how long a property has been marketed, and whether the sellers have changed agent at some stage. While EPC checks on the energy rating are some use if they have a date, they are valid for up to ten years so weren’t necessarily produced for the most recent sale. We downloaded a toolbar from Property Bee (which uses Firefox) with a sidebar listing price changes and number of weeks on the market. Fascinating stuff. As our own house is proving to be a niche market, we know this doesn’t prove everything, but is useful to check out whether a property has not sold for some months, so that we can check why that might be and whether the vendors are willing to consider a lower offer.

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If a house looks promising, I like to familiarise myself with the area. Nothing beats driving or walking around in person, but some useful sites for getting extra information from a distance are Google Maps (especially with Street View and to check distances and routes by car, foot, bike or public transport, which may impact upon the children as they get older), Bing Maps (for Bird’s eye views of the location from North, South, East and West) and the Environment Agency‘s pages on flood risks from rivers and elsewhere. Online regional planning information is useful to determine the scale and dates of development for a property, currency of local greenbelt, the year the street was built and an indication of whether extensions of one sort or another might be granted. Wikipedia is a surprisingly good source of information on village life if there are links to local community websites as well as history of the area.

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I have learnt a lot about school catchments (including relevant high schools) from Cambridgeshire’s education admissions website, and we applied for Joseph’s school place based on data we picked up online as well as a couple of visits. If he should not get any of our three choices, we will be able to find out quickly where there are spaces in both his and Lily’s year groups for September so that they can be together if possible in another local school. Ofsted reports and data tables tell you a certain amount, as do schools’ own websites, but going around a real school and meeting staff there, as well as learning about schools from local people where possible are much more fruitful. We have also taken a keen interest in location and websites of churches in the places we’ve been looking at, as a strong community church will have a big impact on us as a family and we’d like it to be not too far to travel to. Hakuna Matata, as they say.

So, lots of things to keep this divergent mind happy in a useful way on days when I want to crawl into my mindspace all by myself and shut the door. When we are moved I know what my next project will be, as I am preparing a book. However, I cannot write a book and move house and raise a family at the same time. I have learnt to let go and focus on what is best. Freedom within fixed constraints allows me opportunity to thrive and feel useful. I am moving from the first quadrant in the Grace Cycle (Acceptance) to the second (Sustaining Strength). I am allowed to write. I am allowed to research. I have a value and a purpose, and I feel like a room without a roof.

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Finding your Treasure

I am on an amazing j0urney. I thought my testimony might have finished when I gave my life over to the One who gave it to me. In fact, it was only just beginning. I have journeyed through valleys of death’s shadow, known fierce ups and crushing downs and needed affirming over and over again, like the wayward sheep that I discover myself to be. I have left wool on so many barbs, thirsted for water I cannot find alone and ached in the depth of me for meaning and purpose. My fears have left me irrational and hurting and my anxieties have stolen my nights and my days.

Only recently have I been discovering the depths of meaning of some very familiar things. Verses I thought I understood and lessons I had not internalised.

I would love to explain this. So, to humour me, try imagining Paisley. Not the town, the politician or football manager. Imagine the pattern of Paisley. Try and draw it if you can. No – really. And no cheating. You probably know what a paisley pattern looks like. You would recognise it immediately in any colour scheme. I am not going to put an image of paisley on here just yet. See if you can remember the detail.

Something can be familiar and yet so difficult to recall and reproduce. Perhaps we never studied it in depth. Or we did, but a long time ago. Or we are ignorant in the first place. Perhaps we want to be able to recall something but it is not possible. We remember some of the major parts – a tear drop? A double line? Some swirly bits?

I think life is like that. There are many familiar pieces of great advice for living. But for all kinds of reasons we don’t action what we recognise as truth, no matter how familiar. For me, advice like not leaning on my own understanding – this is so difficult in an age of easy access to information. Or recognising that God loves me just as I am completely and utterly, and that this is real grace. Or that there are things I cannot change, but God has it all in His hands. That patience grows with time.

Trying to live a purposeful life and be all you were meant to be is hard if you attempt it in your own strength. Or perhaps if you follow selfish treasures. Try finding treasure without a map. It’s not unlike trying to remember and recreate something that is beautiful and complex. In the end you give up or get it wrong.

So what are your treasures?

Today I saw my son make an X with two sticks of chocolate. Proud of himself, finding fun everywhere, this fantastic little boy brightens my day so often. Where is my treasure? My family. Yes. The chocolate. Most definitely. But X marks the spot. My treasure is in the empty cross. The empty tomb (cenotaph).  I love all these things in utterly different ways. I can treasure sweets, sweetypies and the sweet grace of knowing I am safe forever.

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I have treasure in Heaven – this is so exciting, but I also have passions and dreams on Earth. Desires for my family, for my friends, for my society. Desires for personal fulfilment. Desires for God’s kingdom to be seen more in our lives and for us to know Him deeper.

So what are your treasures? What are your desires? You are allowed to have dreams – God has created you uniquely and placed passions in your heart. Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. I have been swimming in the shallows and I am keen to get out into the deep, use the passions and discover the treasures God has marked out not only for me, but for us as a couple and for our family while we raise them. For too long I’ve been relying on my own strength. So God has been teaching me to Trust more. To allow his Grace to flow in and through me. To live utterly on His understanding, not my own. To trace the pattern he already marked out for me, and to stop arguing or resisting. And in doing so, to find that I could really become who I was always meant to be. My counsellor recommended a book to me called Becoming Myself by Stasi Eldredge. It’s not for everyone. But it has been gently challenging and helping me.

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There I was, hoping I could impress people by doing what I felt duty-bound to do. It led me to study courses I didn’t want to study (and on occasion could not pass). It led me to live behind masks and battle with self-doubt. It led me to choose to lose the dreams.

Until God allowed me to burn right out and cry out to Him for all I needed, some six months ago.

And his grace – allowing me to be truly me – is just astonishing. There are dreams we are now going to pursue as a family. There are depths to God’s goodness which should not be surprising to me but which break my heart as He reveals more of Himself and His love to us. There are times when I wobble, but God picks me up, embraces me with His provision (friends at church, at home, in the community, in books and in music) and sets me upright again.

I am on an amazing journey. As I re-order my life to be charged up from God’s grace and love, rather than in pleasing others (see previous post) I discover He does deliver. I am going to do more writing. I am also beginning a new blog, which I will let you know about shortly. I am trusting utterly in God’s timing and provision for our next move as a family.

My treasure is in Jesus and in allowing Him to unlock me fully. What is your treasure?

Ah yes, and there’s also this. Or if you want a long and fascinating look at Paisley doodling, this.

Mummy Long Legs

I love this week of the year more than any other, and have done most of my life. Summer’s warmth and colour kissing each leaf goodbye before they hasten to new adventures. Breezes to dry washing by the gardenful. The first crisped flakes of autumn giggling around on the ground like dry cereal straight out of the box. Tired children and fresh casserole. Ahh.

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And odd things like daddy-long-legses. Where do they reside in other months? Did you ever see one in February?

Joe is fascinated by ‘piders, and noticing where they are and what size they are. He is generally very positive and hasn’t got a problem with bugs or creepy crawlies in general. His attitude to life is the boost I so often need, and frequently makes me stop and think. I was explaining to him that chopping onions makes mummy cry and he suggested that chopping onions makes him laugh.  I do hope this will come in handy when he can be trusted with a sharp knife.

Lily is planning for Christmas and rearranging the squashes in the front room. I do hope this too will come in handy. Perhaps when she can be trusted with carrying oversized vegetables around the house. I am now so middle-class that I can’t imagine much point to squashes beyond looking beautiful for weeks on end, but I suspect I will be baking and roasting some in due course.

And finally both children are talking and both children are eating. Let the feasting begin!

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I could eat all winter, and probably will. I am not pregnant, but am starting to look like I am. Occupational hazard of depressed stay-at-home-mum I think. That and large packets of minstrels. Do they really expect you to stop halfway through? My current attitude is that I will be very pleased with myself when I shed the extra pounds at such time as I know I can change my eating habits and also actually attempt to. Mummy Wide Legs is more like it.

It is a good thing I have never taken all that much notice, much less cared, about my physical shape. I am not easily embarrassed physically. And I am reasonably brave emotionally I’ve realised. Too brave lately. I had to go into toddlers today, to deliver a large box of toys and books we’d won. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, and lost a lot of sleep last night (although that might have been the minstrels). Joe had a great time. I was chatting with people I care deeply about – there are a lot, and even more new faces, who I ought to care deeply about and haven’t met yet – and realised I’d shuffled into winter while everyone else was in summer mode. While mums were kissing their little ones better and sending them off to play with the Brio, I was frozen with panic. While autumnal chatter filled the air like a good breeze, I could only feel the pain of inhaling sub-zero oxygen, stabbing at my lungs. I collapsed inside like soggy cereal and headed out of the door.

My friends minded my son and kept him happy and fetched my things. My friends listened to me and cheered me up through tea and tears and terrors. My friends refused to judge me or make things harder for me. I managed about half a session this morning and then got through the afternoon by trying to thaw out in front of the computer.

I will get better, and I am so aware of God guiding me. I have discovered that the unit of trust is the step. Each day is made up of several kilosteps, but with a limited number I cannot travel too far, or too fast. Even when tough walks need walking the steps taken in pain are still steps forward. In retrospect I am not as angry with myself now as I was this morning. I actually made it to toddlers. I helped out a little. I listened to people and chatted. I recognised that I am not utterly irreplaceable. Kilosteps or killersteps, I made progress. I just have to put my feet up now and stuff my face a bit more. I know it’s autumn, but please can winter hold off just a little longer? I want to catch more of the detail of the beauty of this time.

 

 

Pipwatch

 

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The piplings went on holiday to my parents’ house while we spent much of the summer away from home. Dad was good enough to keep the little trees alive and even separate out the conjoined triplets. There are still five. I am feeling the responsibility of growing these tinies as well as I can, and trying to keep the white mould which has been threatening them at bay. (There is also a sunflower in the picture, which apparently has something to do with my son.)

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For his birthday my husband went without a flame-thrower and instead received this mini-greenhouse from us. An utterly unselfish gift, honest. Anyway, the pips are trying it out. Great views, free drinks and penthouse suite. They probably think they’re still on holiday.

 

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Depression Toolkit #17: Unplanned lunch date

My husband is working from home this week while he recovers from a cold. The children are both out. So we went out for lunch. Ok, just for all-you-can-eat pizza (which was very much my choice and not his), but it definitely beats sorting out the guinea pig mites or moping about reaching the end of Frasier series eleven. I was able to face away from all the people and stuff my face with happy food.

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Even better, we chatted about and planned outstanding details for various upcoming trips and events which had been causing me some anxiety, so this has brought me huge relief on a few areas. I was also able to do some important admin with him at home and fill him in on today’s doctor’s appointment. The doctor has told me I should not commit to anything that needs my responsibility for the rest of this year. To be fair, I am not surprised actually. Even short meetings with good friends are causing major anxiety for me. I will have to review very carefully what I should and should not get involved with, and to what degree.

I am forever grateful to God for people who know how to cheer me up spontaneously and help me get important things done. Even more so for my husband and his patience and care. There is a time for happy food – and a time to work on getting out of the hole.

A remarkable video – and more so if you have never seen the tags ‘cute’ and ‘sewage’ used together before.

Anxiety weighs down the heart,
    but a kind word cheers it up.

Proverbs 12:25

Depression Toolkit #8: Honesty

honesty-smallJust had a rough morning falling apart inside while trying to explain myself and my situation to a lady at the local NHS wellbeing service, in person this time. Their initial phone assessment left all of us confused and had me labelled in every category from post-natal depression to anxiety. Apparently this won’t do and they can’t help you if they can’t categorise you, so I had to go in and meet them. Now I am just a perfectionist with low self-esteem (i.e. I won’t tell you if you spell something wrong). I don’t think they liked the fact that I don’t fit their boxes that neatly. I am not convinced that they officially ruled the other categories out either.

In any case, because I cannot meet in groups they can’t really offer group therapy, and you need to pass that level to access CBT. I would know if I could meet in groups because I miss my friends, but am terrified of meeting up with anyone more than one at a time. To be fair, I’m not even great one at a time at present, including with the children. This may be in part due to the medication still kicking in at the higher level.

And I have a bit of an idea about CBT from skills my youth leader taught me as a teenager; since then can recognise my thoughts heading into negative territory and have a range of practised strategies for diverting them. Yesterday I caught myself wondering if the guinea pigs were sulking, and before taking that thought further changed the subject in my head and parked the idea for humour value. The self-discipline is a habit which takes years, but mindfulness and self-evaluation are already very much part of my life. I am utterly grateful to him for his time and tenacity in helping me when I was at my previous low ebb. We all need heroes at times to open up to and places where we can be honest and let the truth set us free.

The more I read, the more I think that rather than one cause for my current ill health, there was a drip-drip effect from a large number of directions over a substantial period of time. Everything from the past 18 years got bottled and I ran out of bottle.

I am so grateful for two very useful conversations yesterday. Without them I would have bought a whole lot more comfort food on the way home. The first was an honest chat with dad, who remembers what I was like before and for both of us to recognise how far I have come. The second was with a remarkable friend from church who is like a mentor – she is in the pastoral care team and is wonderful at listening and speaking truth. From her I realised that I have various options going forward, and am hoping to ask for counselling with a Christian group, who can understand better the way I can address my insatiable protestant work ethic mentality which cannot be lived up to. Or at least, how to cut myself some slack.

There is another reason I find it more helpful to chat with Christians about tough times. When I am at my lowest, I still have the capacity to experience joy and hope. It’s like being in a desert and finding shade. My mentor reminded me that joy is a fruit of the Spirit which would explain this. I remember visiting Death Valley with my husband nine years ago. It was 50 degrees Celsius in the shade. Even jumping out of the car to take a photo meant running through achingly hot air and trying not to touch metal in order to get back inside to the air conditioning.

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There were no trees in sight, and hardly any vegetation. Depression feels like that, but the deeper I go in my journey with God, the more I am able to find oases of joy, hope and calm. Going to the NHS today did not deliver, and I didn’t feel truly listened to or able to connect, but talking and praying with Christians means my honesty counts for something and is part of the healing. God’s presence is very real to me, and I find myself aching for Him as much as I am aching for healing. When I am through this valley there will be such a celebration of renewal and I know that I am on the journey there. I want to be able to talk over the hurts and come out the other side stronger and wiser.

Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
I will fear no evil, for you are with me

Psalm 23:4

 

“…the truth will set you free…”

John 8:32

Depression Toolkit #7: Great expectations

Meet Pip.

Actually, you might have met Pip back in November, here.

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And then of course, you may have noted that I occasionally mentioned Pip’s progress…

Here in December and here in January.

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I have not kept up with my little orchard’s progress here on the blog, but suffice it to say, that by Easter Pip and his four contemporaries were looking quite healthy:

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And today Pip continues to reach skywards, expecting great things (and the occasional watering) and full of potential.

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What’s the idea? Well, it occurred to me that some things take time, and all that while they are growing, straining with potential towards the light. To have great expectations means also to be realistic about the time it takes to get there. I never minded taking years to study and become qualified. I never particularly minded how many years I was a child. I always assumed I would grow up. I always knew I would qualify eventually (that took longer than first expected too). I also fully expect to recover. I can rest in knowing that great things will happen.

“I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.”

John 12:24

Depression Toolkit #4: Cheese straws

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Having a bad time of things today as the doctor increased my meds and the side effects are rubbish again. A little of what you fancy does you good. Well, especially if you have to walk to the bakery.

“They also brought …cheese from cows’ milk for David and his people to eat. For they said, “The people have become exhausted and hungry and thirsty in the wilderness.””

2 Samuel 17:28-9