Autumn whispers in the early morning.
Hello dear friends,
Here are 4 things I'd love to share with you about my summer in Spain.
Note to self. Keep it short Meg, and colourful. People don't have time to read screeds, especially on phone!
So...
1. Milestones in my recovery.
2. New paintings.
3. New horizons and the message we were born to share.
4. The miracle of the mad dog.
Autumn whispers around the farmhuse and the star filled nights are getting longer. In the early morning, before swimming, I love to walk in the glistening dew through the orange and lemon trees to greet my chicken family. They're waiting to be set free to lay their eggs and play in the orchard.
.July and August were all about art-making, writing, recovery from the hip operation and waiting for the next all clear from the oncologist.
Home was the ‘Blue Hideaway House, near Comares, inland from Malaga, Spain. You can't see the swimming pool in this pic, but it was just about 15 paces from my bed !
In August I spent two weeks at the 300 year old farmhouse near Colmenar with my beloved 'soul daughter.' It was hot. Very hot.
The summer routine flowed seamlessly.
I loved the vigorous swimming exercises twice a day.
I loved the evening hikes to the pine forest, passing the 400 goats on their way home. I’d stagger with crutches passing the mulberry tree to the top of the hill where a pretty little white house stood on the brow of the hill. It was home to a pack of invisible dogs who lived without and owner.
They sky was often deep orange by the time I arrived. I would assess my walking progress by observing how lopsided my shadow was. I’d try to be my own physio. Shoulders back Meg, straighten the left foot etc., etc.
I loved having my drawing table set up and usable all day long. The drawing and new themes flowed.
I loved byung simple food form the only small ship in the village, and stocking up on veggies from to Tuesday organic market down the mountain.
From the little table beside my swimming pool, I could eat breakfast lunch and supper looking out towards my evenings goal. The first time I managed to walk to the white house was a real hallelujah moment. A milestone. Summer brought halleluiah moments and milestones every week. 5 weeks ago I discarded both crutches.
On Monday 31st July in the supermarket, at 1.30, standing beside the lentils, my phone rang. I knew who it would be, I was expecting the call. My oncologist called to give me the good news I was all clear again. 26 months in remission.
A few hot tears of relief sprang from my eyes, then I went back into no man’s land. A friend suggested it was survivor guilt. I think it was. The months wait for the news had been very hard. Long medical story not worth sharing.
During the summer there were three local fiestas, each higlighted by the tradioal music called Los Veridales. This kind of music predates Flamenco, and is only found in Malaga province. It symbolises – for me- history, joie de vivre, being 100% on the world in the moment and the power of music to join people together. It touches the soul. Wonderful beyond words.
In September I returned to Tablones, where I’ll be renting this friendly house with chickens, swimming pool, and mini orchard for the next 10 months. Then , who knows ??
First of all, there's been the fun of arrangeing of the kitchen, my food laboratory.
I'm buying 98% organic and only seaonsal produce. Eating really healthy and locally is imperative for me now.
Then the delight in organising of my small studio.
Here are 4 things I'd love to share with you about my summer in Spain.
Note to self. Keep it short Meg, and colourful. People don't have time to read screeds, especially on phone!
So...
1. Milestones in my recovery.
2. New paintings.
3. New horizons and the message we were born to share.
4. The miracle of the mad dog.
Autumn whispers around the farmhuse and the star filled nights are getting longer. In the early morning, before swimming, I love to walk in the glistening dew through the orange and lemon trees to greet my chicken family. They're waiting to be set free to lay their eggs and play in the orchard.
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| Add caption |
.July and August were all about art-making, writing, recovery from the hip operation and waiting for the next all clear from the oncologist.
Home was the ‘Blue Hideaway House, near Comares, inland from Malaga, Spain. You can't see the swimming pool in this pic, but it was just about 15 paces from my bed !
In August I spent two weeks at the 300 year old farmhouse near Colmenar with my beloved 'soul daughter.' It was hot. Very hot.
 |
| a pop up art exhibition at the 300 year olf farmhouse. |
The summer routine flowed seamlessly.
I loved the vigorous swimming exercises twice a day.
I loved the evening hikes to the pine forest, passing the 400 goats on their way home. I’d stagger with crutches passing the mulberry tree to the top of the hill where a pretty little white house stood on the brow of the hill. It was home to a pack of invisible dogs who lived without and owner.
They sky was often deep orange by the time I arrived. I would assess my walking progress by observing how lopsided my shadow was. I’d try to be my own physio. Shoulders back Meg, straighten the left foot etc., etc.
I loved having my drawing table set up and usable all day long. The drawing and new themes flowed.
I loved byung simple food form the only small ship in the village, and stocking up on veggies from to Tuesday organic market down the mountain.
From the little table beside my swimming pool, I could eat breakfast lunch and supper looking out towards my evenings goal. The first time I managed to walk to the white house was a real hallelujah moment. A milestone. Summer brought halleluiah moments and milestones every week. 5 weeks ago I discarded both crutches.
On Monday 31st July in the supermarket, at 1.30, standing beside the lentils, my phone rang. I knew who it would be, I was expecting the call. My oncologist called to give me the good news I was all clear again. 26 months in remission.
A few hot tears of relief sprang from my eyes, then I went back into no man’s land. A friend suggested it was survivor guilt. I think it was. The months wait for the news had been very hard. Long medical story not worth sharing.
During the summer there were three local fiestas, each higlighted by the tradioal music called Los Veridales. This kind of music predates Flamenco, and is only found in Malaga province. It symbolises – for me- history, joie de vivre, being 100% on the world in the moment and the power of music to join people together. It touches the soul. Wonderful beyond words.
 |
| Los Verdiales Comares 2017 |
In September I returned to Tablones, where I’ll be renting this friendly house with chickens, swimming pool, and mini orchard for the next 10 months. Then , who knows ??
First of all, there's been the fun of arrangeing of the kitchen, my food laboratory.
I'm buying 98% organic and only seaonsal produce. Eating really healthy and locally is imperative for me now.
Then the delight in organising of my small studio.
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