Past peak social media?

I think I have reached exhaustion point with social media. What with the Jeremy situation, my anti-fracking involvement and Rammylitfest, plus my mostly on-line employment, my brain hurts every time I look at a screen! This last week of fine weather is to blame!

14040000_10153910130842428_7132007774630722557_n It started with me in the park reading eco-poetry, dressed in my ‘nana against fracking‘ outfit, thoroughly enjoying the gentle ambiance of the ‘love earth’ day and the lovely people who took part.

I am a good weather gardener and so much of the following few days of fine weather, warm enough for me to find some energy, has been spent outside in our communal gardens, planning how I will develop them into a sanctuary that is wildlife friendly and as a result, as the rain drives me back indoors, I find I have lost interest in all except ‘the real world’.

It is strange how life overlaps though. An anti-fracking meeting this week found me in the Quaker house at Blackburn, a very special place where I both did and received a lot of healing some years ago. It was delightful to be in there again and I am afraid I was lost in reverie with spirit throughout most of the meeting, so did not take note of most of the proceedings.

As I watch the dark overgrown shrubbery and tree behind my flat finally getting reduced to more manageable levels, letting natural light back into my home, my mind is back where it belongs,with the earth and with spirit…WP_20160819_10_04_35_Proand it’s not just me …

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I’ve only ever been on one public demonstration in my life so far. I was in my fifties when I went to London and marched in objection to Tony Blair taking us into Iraq. I knew then in my heart he was lying about the reasons for declaring war. Time has already proved it to be so.
13528714_10153554771527274_2655799754528374154_nTomorrow, now a nana in my sixties, I will be boots on ground for a second time. I know we are being lied to again, but this time the fight is on my home turf. I believe the future wellbeing of all our children and grandchildren is at stake, so I am going to Blackpool tomorrow in support of Tina Rothery who has become the figurehead for the UK’s anti-fracking movement and who is now being pilloried by the legal system as a result.


The go-ahead to frack in Ryedale in Yorkshire sadly has been given already and this beautiful area is now under threat in so many ways, not just from the environmental pollution aspect.images

Fracking was initially rejected by Lancashire County Council in 2015. Despite this,  Cuadrilla will be starting work on Monday 27th June 2016 at 7am. With Council permission, the company plans cover the use of an existing well to carry out seismic and pressure monitoring.

You have to ask yourself why they would want to do this? Is it because the Communities and Local Government Department has intervened ? In the light of the initial Lancashire decision, the secretary of state, Greg Clark, said he would make the final decision on whether fracking can go ahead or not, overriding the wishes of the local electorate. Financially, environmentally and morally in my eyes, he has the low ground.

Tina may go to jail, but another woman will take her place to face up to bully boy tactics We are not going to go away Mr Clark. #iamTinaRothery


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Reptilians, shadow people and jinns.

Repcon 2016

I recently attended this UFO Alien Conference – supposedly dedicated to the exposure and understanding of the reptilian alien military agenda. A weird place for me to be you might think? To be honest, I only went for the crack, as this was Bury’s contribution to the Greater Manchester Science in the City week and I thought it was hilarious that it was being held in the Lancashire Fusiliers Museum when the annual ‘war weekend‘ was on and the place was full of people trying to relive WW2,  as romanticized by Hollywood of course!

However, I stand corrected, as I found myself totally entranced by some amazingly spiritual people, the very last thing I had expected at such a gathering. On my own spiritual journey I have had some wonderful, some strange and some often disturbing personal experiences. As the speakers told their own stories – the parallels with my own were totally unexpected. The language and some of the conclusions drawn might have been different, but I have no doubt they were talking about the same sorts of experiences.

Ellis Taylor says of himself that ‘I’m not well-known, and to be honest, I like it that way; but stayingWood Nymph Cathedral Grove 1999 1 in this comfort zone is not in the remit for my journey during this incarnation. I don’t have high-level secret government confidences to share, that I’m aware of; what I do have is evidence of interdimensional contact and accounts of their circumstances…which included numerous witnesses.’

So do I Ellis, so do I! What’s more I’ve got the pictures to prove it!

Then there was Frank Willis. I’ve met him before. In St Anne’s, when we were the only people waiting at the railway station one quiet Sunday evening. He frightened me immensely at the time telling me about his life and explaining how he protected himself. I thought I was being set up to be assaulted and/or robbed by this dark ex-soldier. Now several years on from that day, I found this remarkable man to be someone to be admired for how he has turned his life around.

With the benefit of hindsight, I was guided into my spiritual journey by a lady of the highest order of both the Pythian Sisters and the Eastern Eye. Not that I knew any of that at the time of course. Since first meeting her and even beyond her death, I have always felt I was being looked after by her and so when Simon Parkes talked about what he called ‘shadow people‘ and showed a picture – my  first thought was – ‘Oh I’ve got one of those in a photo too’.

3 Watcher on the BankI called it ‘The Watcher on the Bank’ because that was what I felt at the time, that I was being watched. I was glad it was on the other side of the river as I was quite on my own!  I was on my way to meet that same lady at her church that day – it was only when I got there that I discovered she was leader of a spiritualist church and also a highly gifted medium, who is still with me on occasion, some ten years after her death.

Simon talked about other beings too, using some words unfamiliar to me ‘ Mantid (Mantis) beings, Draconis, Reptilian, Jinns – my body hair was tingling at several points in his talk, as he described things that I have felt, seen or photographed over a number of years. I regard them as nature spirits or elementals and my own experiences have mostly been very positive, so it was disturbing to hear them being spoken of in a negative way, although later in his talk Simon was keen to point out that they too have a choice to work for the highest good, as do we.

It was James Bartley who brought back to me more unpleasant memories, with his research into how negative beings interact to women, especially women of a spiritual nature. Again I had had a different way of interpreting what happened to me, but it was interesting to hear his take on things. Some of the drawings he showed were very close to my own description of the beings I had encountered some years ago.

All in all, a most interesting day. I am way out on a limb with all this, but as usual… synchronicity struck several times and I now look forward myself to giving a conference talk about some of my own work next year, albeit in a more grounded environment – mysterious earth!




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Tales from the kitchen table 3

Well, it’s not strictly true this time, as my own cosy nest does not have a kitchen big enough for a table, so the taptap is on my knee.

It was the drive back across Anglesey that began this draft and at the time I was not quite sure where it was going…


This view got me thinking about the bigger picture of life and how physically insignificant we humans really are in the universe, other than our detrimental impact on the planet.

I came back to lead a spiritual healing course at Vitality in Ramsbottom and in doing so, reconnected in a more intimate way with people of like mind once again. The connections triggered the same chain of thought. Why, if we are so insignificant, do we have this wonderful ability to think, reason and create at levels way beyond any that other living things appear to have. Why then are we as a species seeming to get things so terribly wrong? Big questions that by the end of the day, I was too tired to find answers to in my own mind.

I went to bed early to read ‘The Twelfth Insight’ by James Redfield, a mystical tale about the approach of Armageddon; what it means to the major religions and how their sacred books all point to something that could be a non violent leap in evolution instead of our extinction, if non-acceptance of differences were put to one side. It’s only a story, but it strengthened my resolve to be part of the spiritual awakening needed for James’ stories to become a positive reality.

Syncronicity then struck (just as the book describes) and not just once (time to pay attention – I know when that happens, it is important!)

I woke to watch a recent TED talk, by Yanis Varoufakis, who was pointing to our future potential world society as either being like ‘The Matrix’ or ‘Star Trek’ if we do not act soon.  (Thank you to my friend Ann for posting) He made a lot of sense. I do not have the time left to develop the skills necessary to operate effectively in his world, so… on the basis of the Twelfth Insight being very close to real life, I joined the Celestine Vision Community and encouraged my spiritual friends to do the same, in the hope that our energetic contribution will help turn the tide of self destruction.

I love Facebook ! The very next post that appeared on my timeline (thank you to my friend Robert) was the latest by Clarissa Pinkola Estes in which she talks about standing up and showing your soul. (It’s in the book too) where she says ‘ours is not the task of fixing the entire world all at once, but of stretching out to mend the part of the world that is within our reach’.

I have a poem along those lines. Apologies if you have read it before:


I am a pebble,

When I throw myself into the pond I cause ripples,

Ripples that spread

To the solid banks of certainty

And nibble at their edges.

The more pebbles like me

That do just this,

The faster certainty crumbles,

Creating soft fertile earth

Where seeds of a new understanding

Can flourish and grow.

So if you care my friend,

Follow my lead


The third syncronicity??

Kurt Jewson, who stood up and bared his soul (and his body complete with catheter, stoma and scars) on Facebook in order to try and help other men not end up where he is – which is living  with prostrate cancer. Blessings on you Kurt. May you make a full recovery & to go to lead a long and prosperous life.






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Tales from the Kitchen Table 2


The landscape on Anglesey fascinates me. It is not bold like the lakes or soft like the Chilterns, but here are hints of the open Lancashire moorland that I love so well, especially at the north end of the island. It has a magical feel, especially after it has rained and the sun brings a soft mist above and around the trees and fields. Driving down some of the narrow lanes between hedges and small glades of tree dappled with sunlight, even now in January, when branches are bare, it is easy to imagine that Herne or a Druid may step out into the road at any point and there are most decidedly still lots of nature spirits here. I sense their presence often. The side roads are so quiet here, that you can drive slowly, bimbling along, (a great word I have recently learned) looking at things in depth, without anyone bothering you to go any faster. I went 5 miles and back today and saw no-one but a walker.

Golden hillside

The golden light of the early evening sun lit up the old quarried hillside opposite the house  yesterday and revealed the most beautiful array of rich earth colours. Glowing gold amber and bronze, it is hard to believe it is only the first week of January. I travelled a way up the road to get a view of the mainland. The first snow of the Winter sat on the tops of the coastal mountains of North Wales.






But at the North side of the island, it is easy to see why the Druids called this their ‘Holy Mountain. It sits proud of the land around it and looking at it from Church Bay where this photo was taken, the busy ferry port that disfigures the mountain can hardly be seen. I cannot wait to get to explore it more closely. It is a nature reserve and so much of it is untouched by development.

Holy island

Phillip Coppens, author and investigative journalist, has an interesting article about the Celtic heritage of Anglesey on his website.




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Our local farmer has lost 10 sheep in the last two nights – he thinks to pneumonia, but the vet is checking samples, just to make sure. It has been so very wet and apparently none of the local farmers have enough shelter to bring all of their flocks inside.

It’s not just a sheep that is lost; it is also the lamb inside of it. That’s a financial loss of around £100 per animal, £1000 in just two nights. What kind of business can continue to sustain that kind of loss? No wonder the farmers are worried. There is no sign of an end to what the BBC calls this unusually wet and unseasonable weather.

We have not flooded here, the house is 75m above sea level, but the car has being getting a regular wash down from dips in the roads as we tootle about the island. I had never noticed water coming off the fields and through stone walls before, but it has been happening on a regular basis this last few weeks.

I had never paid much attention to sheep either until I came here. Sheep were just sheep to me, some of them white, some of them black. Now I notice sheep have long legs, short legs; long tails, short tails; long hair, short hair. There are white, cream, brown and black sheep and some that are a mixture of all of the above. I am promising myself a book on sheep so that I can learn more about them.

One of the joys of being out of the city is that the pace of life here gives you time to ruminate on such things. ‘Useless things’ some might say, but to me anything you learn about Nature is never useless. I am not a vegetarian; lamb is my favourite meat and to be honest, if learning about different types of sheep enables me to choose a better piece of lamb for Sunday lunch, then bring it on!

Yesterday brought our first visit from the ‘honey truck’IMG_2112 (otherwise known as Mr Roberts with his slurry machine) to empty  our septic tank. Not as unpleasant a situation as it sounds, but it is now apparent why different levels have been created at the bottom of the garden – our ‘soak away’ from the septic tank would run like a waterfall over the 12 foot drop down to the house behind if it were not diverted.IMG_2118.JPG

I wonder if the neighbours down the hill actually know what heads their way from us.  It is very noticeable that our resident mole does not appear to venture down to that end of the garden.

Apparently our more solid effluent will end up on the Robert’s farm to sit in slurry tanks along with that from his 100 strong milking herd for 2-3 years before being sprayed on the fields. I have not found out yet whether that will be crop fields or pasture. Perhaps it is better not to know.




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Post festival musings


So that’s it. Finished. Rammylitfest 2015 done and dusted. It was fun, it was exhilarating, it was bloody hard work.

Was it a success? Yes. Very much so, according to those who took part and some of those who came along.

Would I do it again? No.

I met some wonderful people, experienced some amazing performances, made some new friends and was left with a couple of potential collaborative spin off projects that look very interesting, but no, I would not put my time and energy into running another festival.

Financially it was a disaster. My life and my work got put on hold, my relationships strained to breaking point. Now I have to pick up the pieces and carry.

A festival needs youth, energy, creative vision in new media; I have none of those things. I am poet and a writer, a nature photographer. I crave solitude, quiet, time outdoors. Organising the festival stole all these things from me from months on end and left me exhausted.

All I want to do now is curl up somewhere warm and be still. I want someone to take care of me for a while. To support my creative output.  To do the housework that has not been done and to make that sure I eat properly while I get my work written, typed up, organised and out there into the world.

I have a book, The Simple Path, about to be published in paperback next month. I have had to trust my publisher that it will be fine, because although I read and approved everything he sent back to me. I have no idea whether the text was ok or not. I do know the cover picture is fine.






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