Too many emotions

"There's going to be a nuclear war," my friend looked at me, his eyes wide and sincere. "This will escalate, honest. We need to be prepared." I looked at my friend in horror. A friend I admired and respected. My stomach lurched and a knot of apprehension started to swell and grow. A seed of worry, planted there by the media, becoming fertilised and nourished by that one sentence.

I felt a dark cloud settle on me that day. It was the 1990s. A few months before I'd come out of a long-term relationship, been involved in a car crash, and taken my finals at university. All at the same time. It's fair to say I was a little vulnerable.

And now this. I think it was the break up of Yugoslavia. Or it could have been the Gulf War. It might have been neither.

Thank God then there was no such thing as social media.

Fast forward to 2016. When a tragedy occurs, or a major event that shocks the entire country happens, those who use social media turn to it for solace. They express their shock, their anger, their grief. It all comes spilling out. A stream of consciousness, a fast river of emotions.

To see them, amplified, by seemingly millions of voices, millions of thoughts exiting urgently out of my phone into my (limited) head space, it's too much. Especially when I'm still in recovery mode.

I have to back off. I have to tear myself away and, temporarily, I delete facebook from my phone. I mute (temporarily) voices on my twitter feed.

Their thoughts and emotions make me anxious. It is affecting my own thoughts and emotions. It is overtaking my own thoughts and emotions.

I am taking in millions of people's thoughts and emotions.

Can't. Breathe.

Whispers of a dark cloud start to form in my head.

So I turn, instead, to writing. I turn to real-life friendships, dog walks and baking. I would turn to gardening, too, but the rain is thwarting that.

I love social media. It is responsible for a lot of good that has happened to me in the last decade. But I make no apologies for backing off from it when it becomes too much.

And incidentally this is not, in any way, a complaint about people tweeting about their emotions. People have every right to do that.

However. My own mental health requires me to step back.

When it stops raining, do come and join me in the garden. I'll provide the cake.

Embracing a Slower Life

I've just been re-writing my about page to try and reflect what I'm writing and what I want from life. I cast my mind back to my early career and how, as a late nineties graduate, it was assumed women could do anything, be anything. There were no barriers. Well, there certainly weren't in my mind. And no-one ever put any in my way. (Other than being asked at a job interview whether I'd be having children in the near future. I mean, what?!)

I was excited about my career in business and marketing. It didn't occur to me that I might not like it. That I might not be fulfilled by this fast-paced world. I just assumed I'd be a career woman. Nothing was going to stop me.

Except, I stopped myself.

Writing this, four years ago to the day we moved to the countryside, I hadn't realised I yearned for a slower pace of life. I hadn't realised I hankered for a life similar to the ones both my grandmas had. Country living, fresh air, early mornings, chickens, baking, gardening.

And, for a while, I felt guilty. Guilty about being able to take a slower pace of life. Of being able to sit at my desk and write, then pop out to feed the chickens their afternoon tea, of baking cakes before collecting the children from school.

It all sounds a bit homely, like the working women of the past few generations have struggled for nothing. For me to give the career a go then just to undo all their hard work.

But, then I realised, thanks to their pioneering efforts, I have that choice. I can make a career that suits me. And, thanks to the wonders of modern technology and social media and my compulsion to write and write, I have the joy of making a living from these slower daily actions.

And now I feel I want to get up early. Not to catch the train but to open the back door and breathe. Foggy and frosty mornings are best for this, but sunny mornings are also good. Even the smell of rain is powerful.  It's all about taking in the moments.

Watching the year pass through the seasons: being aware when the blossom bursts, when the leaves come; when they go, of that first frost, those hot, sticky mornings, the distant sound of a chicken laying an egg, the fresh aroma of newly mown grass, the harvest, the apples and pears; currently the size of currants, beginning to grow on the fruit trees.

#embracingaslowerlife

I find Instagram brilliant for taking in those moments. Since I first downloaded the app I've been more aware of what is happening around me. So I've created a hashtag for the times in the day when you consciously realise what is happening outdoors. It could be that first blossom of the year, the first rose and its glorious smell, the fields changing colour, moody, thundery summer skies, a leaf falling signifying the beginning of autumn.

An appreciation for the simple. Those moments we take for granted, but are incredibly special.

Do join in.

Why I Love the Outdoors

It could be the early morning mist. The dew hanging onto a cobweb which is stretched over a gate. The pink bud on the pear tree that bursts; its white flower quivering in the wind. The dawn chorus. Competing to be heard over each other. The roughness of the pheasant contrasting with the laughter of the woodpecker.

Holding the hand of my little girl as we walk around the field. Observing the colours that are appearing. Dots of pale blue, purple, a red tulip we'd never seen there before. Exploring behind the trees for a secret clump of bluebells. Trying to convince my daughter they are bluebells, even though we also have some white ones.

Watching the chickens as they scratch and squabble. The peacefulness that comes over you when you see a hen with its wing outstretched, sunbathing in the weak sunshine.

Watching the ducks splash. Chasing each other out of the water. Water droplets flying everywhere.

Coming in, out of the cold wind, settling in front of the log fire.

This is what I love about the outdoors.

Why I Love the Outdoors from Helen || a bookish baker on Vimeo.

Music: One Fine Day by Jason Shaw

The Morning Routine

I wrote about my morning routine with the chickens and ducks back in February. Well, now, as part of my film-making course, I've tried to capture the peacefulness of the morning through film.

Morning routine from Helen || a bookish baker on Vimeo.

There are so many things to learn with making films but I'm no longer anxious as I wrote about on this post. I thoroughly enjoy walking around the garden, crouching down, getting mucky, putting my knee accidentally in chicken poo, all for the sake of that perfect shot.

Of course, the subjects of my mini-films: the chickens, ducks, and the dog, completely ignore my directions. The dog often running in the wrong direction or even full force into me when I'm trying to capture her movement across the camera. Most of the time I miss framing her completely.

But it's all good fun. I'm a fan of the detail outside anyway; of looking up, looking down, of seeing light differently through various angles, but this makes me appreciate even more what's out there. Right on my door step.

Thanks to the music from "She Moved Through the Fair" by Sláinte.

New Skill Anxiety

I'm rather taken with creating films. Obviously I've only just begun my online course with Xanthe Berkeley but it is something I've longed to be able to do for some time. It's also something I've been putting off for some time. Because I'd told myself I wouldn't be able to do it. But remember my post about Being Brave? Well, this is me putting my words in action. New technology often overwhelms me. But, once I have finally decided to do something, instead of taking the easy option I push myself and I have to stop everything and do it RIGHT NOW. Otherwise it'll be niggling at me. Taunting me.

On Tuesday when the first filming lesson pinged into my email box I became increasingly anxious. Don't get me wrong, Xanthe's instructions and video clips where she demonstrates how to do things were amazingly clear. It was me. I kept thinking, what if I can't manage this? What if I don't understand or something goes wrong?

The answer was just to get on and do it. Make my first film. Show myself I can undertake something new. And it worked. I feel so much calmer. So much so, I've created a second film. Just to show myself it wasn't a fluke the first time around.

It's funny how we can have confidence in many things but when it comes to something new and out of our comfort zone we are floored. It's just occurred to me that I was the same with the chickens. It'll be four years ago in August when I held a (live!) chicken for the first time (and yes, that photograph on the left shows the very moment). And my goodness I was so overwhelmed. How to look after them, yes. But also specifics: what house to get, what to feed them, when to feed them. What happens if they're sick?

So I scoured the internet looking for answers. And found a chicken-keeping course. (The answer, it seems, is always on a course). I took so many notes when I went on this course. The chicken farmer said he'd never known anyone take so many notes before. (Sara, my coach, who is helping me with social media and photography said something similar in our last session. I appear to be a note taker-er.)

Now, four years later, my flock has grown, as has my confidence. I've done a talk on chickens for nursery school children (I could have talked for hours, they loved it, as did I) and I've written about how they've given my life balance and given me a sense of calm. And I'd almost forgotten how anxious and nervous I was when I was first contemplating becoming a chicken-keeper.

It seems apt, therefore, that my second film, the first project in nearly four years that's given me similar anxiety, is solely focused on the chickens.

The Chicken Routine from Helen || a bookish baker on Vimeo.

Nature Baking Journal Instagram Project

Earlier this year I created a steller project about My Year in Cake. I wrote:

"The time of year always dictates what I bake. Unconsciously I use pastel icing colours in spring, with the trend continuing and brightening as we surge into summer. Autumn baking is more muted; often inspired by the apple or plum harvest. And winter baking, both the act of and eating of, is for pure comfort."

I've found with my baking pictures on Instagram that I'm inspired by what is happening outside my back door. Or, sometimes, what is not happening. When the ground is frozen, soaked and brown I look for comfort within the kitchen. Therefore chocolate and ginger feature heavily through the winter months.

But with the arrival of spring, I've noticed I'm being inspired by the colours I'm seeing as I step outside. The vivid pinks of the hyacinths, the emerging dark pink of the flowering currant buds; fading slightly as they burst into flowers. And little cones on one of the trees. A deciduous needle tree that I haven't worked out what it is, yet. Tiny and pink cones, they are. Stunning colour.

It is so cheering to see pink outside after all this time. The landscape is still a smudge of green and brown, the trees have yet to explode with the vivid green of young leaves. There is the striking yellow of daffodils, which I love to see, but the colour is too close to brown and green to create that passionate delight. Seeing these different hues of pink is a feast for the eyes.

And yes, it influences what I bake or how I style my bakes for photographing and, ultimately, Instagram.

With this is mind I've created a new hashtag for Instagram. I do love a hashtag. It's #naturebakingjournal. And I would love it if you'd join in.

You might use nature within your baking; a wild garlic and cheese scone for example is perfect for March. Or you might use nature to inspire your baking colours. Or you might find some thyme flowers, a hyacinth, or maybe some plum blossom is the perfect prop to enhance your pictures of your bakes.

However you interpret the hashtag I would LOVE to see your pictures.

Each month I'll feature my favourites on this blog.

Find me on Instagram as @abookishbaker.

My Love Affair with Cake

At some point during my childhood I developed a passion for baking cakes that has never left me. A passion that has taught me (much needed) patience and saved me from myself during difficult times.

I'm not talking about beautiful, delicate patisserie or magnificent sculptures out of sponge and icing, although I did flirt with the latter for a while. I'm talking about every day cakes, family cakes, cakes my grandmothers would make, as well as their grandmothers in some form or another.

This passion did leave me temporarily. I was distracted by my university years and early London-working years, but I rediscovered baking soon after having my first child. And it has never left me since.

I suppose having two grandmas who baked a lot, as well as a mum who baked, were, and still are, my influences. Which takes me back to this post about Recipe Book Inspiration. I read my mum's Be-Ro recipe book avidly over and over to choose what I could bake next. I see my daughter reading baking books in a similar way now.

Then I became tempted by the bright lights of the shaped birthday cakes. I researched sugar craft; even designing and making a Formula One car out of cake when I was about nineteen. But as I've got older I found I don't have the patience to continue in this vein. But I did learn how to flood ice biscuits a few years ago. Always an impressive skill. N.B my photography skills below of my early cakes were extremely hit and miss. Or rather, mainly miss.

The concentration of weighing, measuring, tasting, checking, melting helped me during difficult times. It took me out of my head-space for a while. Distracting myself from unhappy thoughts. Even now, if I feel low, I grab the scales, turn on the oven and bake something.

It isn't the eating of the cake. Although that is a rather tasty outcome. It's the process of baking which I love so much.

Little rituals: Coffee

Mornings go like this:

Feed ducks. Feed chickens. Feed cat - she shouts very loudly so gets hers first just to silence her. Feed dog - she's more patient. STOP EVERYTHING FOR COFFEE. Feed children. Feed me.

If it is school holidays or weekends that is the routine. Every day. And I love it. I love the quiet and calm that the first cup of coffee brings me. The satisfaction of knowing the urgent morning chores have been done. The ducks and chickens are out enjoying their freedom, the dog is with the children watching TV and the cat is somewhere, goodness knows where. All I can hear is the quiet murmuring of the fridge, some chirrups from the birds outside, maybe a few blasts from the bird-scarers and the distant sound of the TV.

I never used to like coffee. I made myself like it. There I was in the refectory at university force-drinking myself black coffee. It was a cold winter and I needed something to warm me. I knew I couldn't keep drinking hot chocolate and - gasp - I hate tea. Loathe it. (I wish I did like it. I would love a tea ritual, too.) So I drank a cup. Without milk. (Can't stand warm milk either.) And I've enjoyed it ever since. And when I say I've enjoyed it I mean proper coffee. Not instant.

A proper coffee whilst working in the city of London, one with my weekend pastry as I trudge along Oxford street on a Saturday enjoying my own company and being a London-girl-about-town, a cafetiere full as I read the Sunday papers on the floor in my friend's lounge where I was lodging. And a coffee and a chat with other mums when my children were tiny enough to fit into prams.

And now, a coffee with my laptop as I write. Speaking of which. This cup is empty...

My Month in Three iPhone Pictures: January 2016

I know some people are not too keen on January, but I enjoy the calmness and routine this month gives me. The festivities of December are fun and happy but busy so I welcome the chance to get back to my desk; to begin writing again and put into practice my plans and dreams that I thought about in that beautiful much-needed lull between Christmas and New Year. Writing

I was determined to make a big impact on my novel this month. With my son being poorly and hospitalised towards the end of 2015 (he's fine now) the novel was seriously neglected. So with the relief of having a healthy family once more I read through the words I already had. All 55,000 of them. Then I 'borrowed' my daughter's large art pad and divided two sheets into fifteen chapters. First I stuck post-its in each chapter square of what I already had in terms of plot/character/sub-plot/emotions and so on. Then I took some more pages from my daughter's pad and stuck post-its in each chapter square of what I would like to happen; moving chapters about, adding in emotions my main character has to be feeling at each point and making the overall narrative make sense. I also went through notebooks and added in sentences and ideas that I'd forgotten about. This took me a week.

And now I'm editing, re-writing and adding chapters. This has took me the rest of the month.So far. I'm not quite half-way. Editing takes SO much longer than I thought it would. It also makes my eyes squint a lot.

Reading

This month I started to read DH Lawrence's Lady Chatterley's Lover as part of my intention to read more classics. I'm also joining in with Circle of Pine Trees #theyearinbooks project on twitter, instagram and here on this blog. And so far so good, although I sometimes struggle with DH Lawrence's style of writing.

Also read this month was the rather gorgeous and unusually structured The Versions of Us by  Laura Barnett. I wholeheartedly recommend this book.

On my kindle app I read Destination Thailand (The Lonely Hearts Travel Club, Book 1) by Katy Colins. Katy is a friend of mine who has had a whirlwind week or so with the release of this, her debut novel. Including an interview on This Morning. Her novel, loosely based on her own life, where her main character is jilted a few weeks before her wedding so takes up backpacking, is lots of fun. I thoroughly enjoyed it and am looking forward to the next in The Lonely Hearts Travel Club series.

I'm now starting The Trouble with Goats and Sheep by Joanna Cannon. From the first chapter I'm in love with Joanna's writing. I think it's going to be good.

Photography

Always wanting to improve and not wanting to be outdone by a camera, I have joined Emma Davies' Free Photography Workshop. Emma is emailing budding photographers once a week with a focus on a different part of photography, easy tips and a few challenges. We were asked to come up with a project that we can add to throughout the course. I decided to photograph The Seasons Outside my Back Door. Which then expanded to become a weekly series on this blog. You can read January: Week One, January: Week Two and January: Week Three.

It has been a busy and packed month. As I write this I have one eye on the clock because time is just speeding. It always does when you've a lot on.

So, although I'm sorry to be saying goodbye to January I'm looking forward to what February will bring. I know my novel will be finished (at least in this draft form) before the month is out.

The Year in Books ~ January 2016

My office is teaming with books. A table by the window with books stacked alongside notebooks and admin that somehow drifted there over the Christmas holiday, ikea cabinets behind me with books stuffed in both horizontally and vertically, then, on the windowsill in front of me I've even more books. Pretty books, special books. Lots and lots of books. Every time I venture into town I'll pop into a charity shop or a book shop and a book of some kind will always be purchased. I can't stop myself. Even now, I'm currently reading The Versions of Us, by Laura Barnett, and there is a mention of Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf. Ooh, I've not read that one, I think, my fingers tapping away, hurriedly searching it out online.

Following on from my last post where I admitted to being scared of the classics in literature, and how I got over that fear thanks to Rebecca, I'm now at a loss as to what classic to read next because I have such choice: My Cousin Rachel, Sense and Sensibility, Cold Comfort Farm, Madame Bovary are just a few books I can see from my desk. There are so many I wish to read.

But then, I casually pick up a battered copy of Lady Chatterley's Lover and happen to glance at the first page. It pulls me in. I want to read more.

So I guess that's my January ~ The Year in Books decision made for me.

The Year in Books is a book group with a difference set up by Laura on the lovely blog Circle of Pine Trees. Each participant pledges to read at least one book a month and then blog, instagram or tweet about it. Take a look at her blog and check it out.

What Rebecca has taught me

Studying Chaucer and Catch 22 at A-level temporarily killed my love of literature.  Ok, maybe that sounds a bit dramatic. Maybe it was a compatibility issue. We just weren't suited. Maybe it was the droning lecturer; a dreary man who laughed at all the Chaucer jokes. Again and again. Or maybe it was just me and where I was in my life. But I didn't pick up another book again, for pleasure, for some time. And for this to be significant you have to realise I was a voracious reader. I would devour anything and everything; visiting the library on a weekly basis with my sister. I think I read all the books in the children's section. I certainly read a lot of the children's classics.

When I finally did pick up another book, in my early twenties, I read stories I could relate to. Modern writers with books full of warmth, humour and real life. I adored these books. I still do.

In the meantime classics scared me.

I wouldn't turn to them when I wanted something to read. Instead I'd build up a forbidding picture of them in my mind. Secretly I thought they were too highbrow for me. I thought I just wouldn't get them. That I wouldn't understand the language, the narrative. Or simply, like with Chaucer, wouldn't get the humour.

Literary classics were my Rebecca.

"I don't belong to your sort of world for one thing." This is what the new Mrs de Winter said to Maxim when he proposed. Rebecca belonged. But she didn't.

And I believed I didn't belong to that sort of classical literary world.

As we entered a new century I entered the world of books. I wrote about them, blogged about them, am even writing one myself. Yet, during all this time, I'm tormented that I don't measure up to the classics. And I built Rebecca up in my head as some sort of literary monster that I would not be able to defeat. Just like the new Mrs de Winter perceived that she didn't measure up to the first Mrs de Winter. To Rebecca.

I bought the novel, Rebecca, on 25 May 2007. I know, because Amazon tells me. Yet I didn't read it until a few months ago. And, as I took a deep breath and dived in, reading about Manderley, about Maxim de Winter, Mrs Danvers and the beautiful descriptions of the woods,the coastline, about Happy Valley, I relaxed. I started to enjoy it. And, as Mrs de Winter, the new Mrs de Winter, realizes the truth about Rebecca, I began to realise the truth.

This is what Rebecca has taught me:

Classical literature is not some sort of literature that I cannot defeat. In fact, defeating it doesn't come into it. Classical literature can actually be enjoyable. I am worthy of it. And I can understand it.

It is just there waiting patiently for me to discover it. To embrace me in its arms.

All this time. It loved me.

Now, what to read next?

Favourite blogs and podcasts from 2015

So we're coming right to the very end of the year, indeed it may well be the new year by the time you read this. I've read a lot this year. Including, I'm rather pleased to say, a few books out of my comfort zone. Into, yikes!, the classics. I'm intending to increase my expansion out of this comfort zone in 2016. But 2015 included A Room with a View, The Diary of a Provincial Lady and  Rebecca. Novels that you just want to hold close. Rebecca deserves a post of her own and I'll be writing extensively about this wonderful novel in the new year.

Favourites from the summer include these two and a little later in the year I discovered Ruth Reichl. Oh my goodness I adore her writing, both fiction and non-fiction.

But 2015 was also where I've rediscovered a love for the online world. I've found great posts  through twitter, such as this great one by the writer Jo Hogan where she tells authors to be proud of their writing and to not feel guilty for promoting it. I've also found the inspiring writing story of @writeangie.

Then, on Instagram, I've found other people who love books as much as I do  (they're called bookstagrammers. It's a fabulous world of books to explore) along with other gorgeous lifestyle accounts such as Me and Orla which I mention below.

I've also been introduced to alternative ways of creating content, visually through Steller (see my sidebar about My Year in Cake) and through the written word via Medium. I intend to make full use of these exciting mediums(ha!) during 2016.

I know I haven't blogged as much as I would have liked to. Illness, both mine and, more seriously, my son's, in the latter part of this year has meant my time was better spent elsewhere. But I'm always on Instagram. I love creating pictures and documenting my reads, my bakes or other aspects of my life.

Then we have this lovely lot. All worth a read or a listen to:

Blogs I've been reading:

Girl Lost in the City

Emma Gannon has so many brilliant, insightful and inspiring blog posts. I particularly like:

20 Things I Learned from "Big Magic" and 5 Favourite Articles I Keep Re-Reading

Emma may well be a teeny bit younger than me and have a different life situation but I still find her posts relevant to me as a writer, reader and blogger. Her book, about Emma's online life, Ctrl, Alt; Delete, comes out in 2016 and I'm very much looking forward to reading it.

Me and Orla

I love Sara's moody photography, her gorgeous posts and the amount of knowledge she has about social media. On her blog, as well as writing about her daughter, her beautiful photography and life in rural Yorkshire, she provides Instagram tips. Her instagram feed is currently at 115,000 followers and it's not hard to see why. Sara also provides mentoring which I have booked myself on for early next year.

Podcasts I've been listening to:

Ok, it might be that I've only just discovered how great podcasts are. The following are two which I've really enjoyed so far. But I'm now on the hunt for more...

The Worried Writer

Self-confessed worried writer and published author, Sarah Painter, has created a brilliant blog and podcast with the anxious writer in mind. Such as myself. Her post on How to Write Your Novel in Ten Minutes at a Time could have been written for me. Well, actually it was as I asked the question that inspired the post. One of the podcasts I particularly enjoyed was the one where Sarah interviews Catherine Ryan Howard.

Magic Lessons by Elizabeth Gilbert

For some strange reason it has taken me until this year to start reading