Welcome

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Greetings

Good morrow, I am Mrs WH. I guess if you were to meet me you might find me to be a number of things. First and foremost, 'OLD', like your nan. I am old. A real life gammer. It's just that my brain doesn't know it yet. I am extremely proud to say that my life has entered that autumnal era of a woman's life, the stage known as the 'crone'. If you aren't familiar with this term then I suggest that you might endeavour to look it up. I'm absolutely delighted to be a crone because it means I get to worry less about things that don't require worrying about at all. A Capricorn crone; not a wise one yet but I'm getting there. That's basically me in a nut shell. Oh, and I love Kate Bush. And wildlife.

One would undoubtedly describe me as long haired. Colour wise It's pink and green. I like it that way. Exactly how long it measures I do not know but I shall soon be able to rest upon on it, should I find the need . A wanna-be 'hippie' type crossed with an old woodland faerie, living on the edge of a quiet village, always with dirt under her fingernails. A stranger once compared my image to Stevie Nicks, but other than that no-one has ever really noticed me, apart from that one time when someone randomly asked me if I lived on a narrowboat. I don't yet own a narrowboat but if folk think I do that's fine with me. A bit of a gongoozler, living that life vicariously. I'm not quite sure exactly what it is, but there's something rather magical and mystical about living aboard a narrowboat. It remains an alternative lifestyle that I may yet get to experience. I have already 'cosmically ordered' it. Along with an array of other longed for wishes, it waits patiently in my shopping basket.

Talking about being noticed, I recall a few years ago, stepping back into a Tuesday evening, in the midst of a gathering of 'fellow, and spiritually like-minded souls', an unfamiliar face leant in to inform me, rather candidly, that my 'colours were cold'. She elaborated. This had nothing to do with my aura, just that she saw I exuded pastel tones, emphasising that this was in no way a negative thing. A short time later, the lady's eager voice still in my earshot, it was a friend's turn for enlightenment. Here, descriptions such as sunflowers, pumpkins, cloudberries and clementines rang in the air. Much warmer tones than I. It didn't mean that it was true but she was entitled to her opinion. We all have them. It doesn't mean that they are right.

In life, I choose to follow my own path, possessing some strong beliefs. Albeit, I do not expect or wish for anyone else to agree with or even share in those beliefs, for they are indeed my own. They are mine. Not that I air them vociferously, (except to Mr WH over breakfast), but they are  extremely important to me. Opting to live simply and humbly, holding very little value in material things, a vegetarian and caretaker to the earth, I find that happiness stems from within. If you are true to yourself and who you are, you are on the right path. It is my thinking that no-one else can be held responsible for your happiness, only you, your pets and the local publican. And now we find the birth of 'wastedhippie' because a happy life is a life well spent.

A Life Well Spent, by Mrs WH

Most days I am lucky enough to be one of the 'fortunates'. Fortunate enough to be able to get outside; be it rainbows or moonbeams; wellies or walking boots; tamed hair or tousled. Stepping out into the green, open spaces that surround me, it is so invigorating to just stand still. To just stand and breathe, allowing the fresh air to gently fill up my lungs. Feeling set free from all the constraints and shackles that unfortunately go hand in hand in today's modern society. Pausing often to take in the view, armed with my hip bag full of potentially life-saving tools, I utilise my binoculars eagerly. Here, I can ramble along in total silence, simply just being me. Whether it be foraging from the hedgerows or photographing gnarly trees, I find contentment. Sometimes opting to sing a simple song, either to a hazel or an old oak tree or stopping to take in the sight of the swifts, swooping and scythe-like in the summer sky. That said, I have been known to get into all kinds of trouble when in the company of mischievous miscreants, those woodland pixies, especially when they have been on the elderflower wine.

Dragonflies and damselflies are so enchanting. Vibrant in colour, dainty and delicate, a beautiful sight to see as they dance and skim the glistening cool waters of ponds and canal. Hardly anything escapes my gaze when rambling, not least the herons. They possess an aura of grandeur, standing statue-like and posing proud. They are indeed a creature rather symbolic of a prehistoric time.

Wild flowers entertain me and I am only now starting to remember some of their names, albeit I draw the line at learning any Latin. It's the memory you see, it struggles to remember everything so I now do crosswords to help with this. This is most likely a 'crone like activity' undoubtedly associated with becoming wizened.

I really do live on the edge of a village. Along with Mr WH, our dogs and the wildlife, we make for an alternative set up. I love our garden and we have, over time, begun to make it our own. Planting flowers for the bees, vegetation for our sustenance and fruit for the jam pot. Seeds are abundant for the birds, healthy snacks for the wood mice and squirrel, a supper platter for the badgers and fresh water for the occasional hedgehogs that drop by. A small garden pond sits discreetly in our Fairie Corner, still establishing itself.

It is in this very garden that I have become a harvester. During the summer months I will harvest a cucumber like a revered actress, stepping up to rapturous applause as she eagerly makes to collect her well-earned accolade. I inhale deeply, hold for the count of four, exhale for five, compose my inner goddess and step stylishly forward into the kitchen. Last year, upon proffering a marrow sized cucumber to Mr WH, he patiently paused upon his sudoku, raised his head and proclaimed, "Wow, that's a big one, my love". Grinning, I allowed myself a naughty slice of pride before flouncing off to harvest more vegetables; this time for friends and family. You see, it's a life well spent.

Mr WH Comments

Graduating from the University of Life, Mr WH now has time to spend on motorcycling, walking, MTB (cycling) and adding any new skill to his bow. When he finds the time to sit and edit you too will be able to see what he has been up to, simply by viewing the pages within this site.