Pictures can be deceptive

I was looking through my holiday snaps and came across these two of myself. Do I look like the same woman? Both dont do me justice - both make me look thicker round the waist than a whale ommlette (cheers for that one Black Adder).

However both do seem to say something about my cheery disrespect for fashion and conventional style. If ever I buy a women's magazine I completely skip anything to do with fashion or beauty. Whats the point of endlessly conforming to what a bunch of (usually gay*) image police say is 'in' at the moment. I have yet to meet a man who liked an anorexic looking woman or who did not get EXTREME pleasure from making the wobbly bits wobble in the heat of passion. Sooo I am going to post these pics and stick a big unmanecured finger up to the recieved wisdom on what makes a woman beautiful.














I already know I am beautiful I let my energy, earthy sexiness, warmth and sense of fun do that for me, oh and the boobs help too :o)



* Nothing against being gay - I like the whole gay thing, just find gay men a little bit hard to take serviously when it comes to what makes a woman appealing to men.

Just a quickie

Since Monday's long blog I have been very remiss. Had a brief foray into my blog chums blogs but have not sat down to write. In the light of this I thought I would write a quick post while I wait to pick my son up from his job - waiting on tables at a very up market pub in the wilds Staffordshire/Derbyshire.

I had a massage client tonight and found it a most uncomfortable experience. The rather healthy muesli and chopped banana for breakfast was reacting unfavourably with the guacamole for lunch. Not good! I forgot my sequence twice and managed to spill the ylang ylang on the towel while painfully distracted by the rumbling Krakatoa that was my digestive system.

After such an ordeal I popped straight upstairs to change, freshen up and get into my nightie - pink fluffy socks as well. On coming downstairs Mr Vix watched me settle onto the sofa and then raised an empty bottle of red wine in salute. Someone was over the limit and unable to pick up hard working son! So as I say .... just writing a quick post while waiting to do taxi duty. I am still in my nightie and pink socks and that's how its staying - sod it. I shall put on a pair of shoes, go out in a state of undress and hope that I don't bump into any over zealous coppers.

The Interview

Ok, so Kahless asked me five questions and I have already answered one, so the next one is

How did you get into being a masseur?

When I had kids I made a decision to stay at home with them and bring them up. Mr Vixen was climbing the corporate ladder so I retreated to the home to be a stop at home Mum. I still believe it was the best thing to do for them, they are fabulous young adults and very settled, confident etc. It was the right choice for them however I did not fare so well. I was depressed and got into thinking that I was going to die. It took ten years to diagnose me with depression. What finally did it was the poltergeist activity.

Wierd things started to happen, and the rest of the family got really freaked out about it. I used to be able to turn on tellies and stereos when I was distressed. Things randomly fell out of cupboards and I used to turn on the shower just by walking past the room. One day I returned from shopping, put my car keys on the table, bought in the shopping and when I picked up my keys they had all bent over, like they had melted. I got my ass down the docs and was sent to a therapist (I think you can work out who that was) who amongst other things told me I was bored! She was right - she was so so so right. She also suggested that I look at my book collection to see what I was naturally interested in. The big themes were myths, legends and magick, cookery and complementary therapies. I had done enough bloody cooking, so I opted for the complementary therapies.

The first thing I did was to look into courses at my local college. I wanted night classes because I was still needed for childcare. There was an Aromatherapy course I was interested in. I signed up, it was daunting after being away from things for so long but I did enjoy it. I was good at it too, it was an NVQ and I passed without a problem earning a Certificate in Swedish Body Massage. The second year of the course was Aromatherapy but by then I realised that I needed more of a challenge. I needed more depth, and was getting interested in healing and energy. I found a Diploma course in Holistic Aromatherapy and joined it. It was my first taste of weekend study and it was the course that changed my life. I met my first witch on that course, and I went away on a residential stay for the first time since I was 14. Suddenly I realised that there was life outside of the home and the church.

I passed my Diploma and am a Professional Aromatherapist but that was not enough either. My therapist advised me to think about becoming a therapist myself - my third category of interest on my book shelf was myth, magick and legend; The stories of the subconscious, the commentaries of the human condition. I signed up for a Masters Degree in psychotherapy and here I am, almost there. Its been an incredible journey and I am unrecognisable from the woman I once was. Massage got me started on that road.

Imagine you are a champion sportswoman. What sport would you excel at and why this one?


Archery. That was the immediate response. I have never held a bow, but have a bow and arrows on my birthday list, a native American set. Perhaps its because I am a Sagittarius and have always identified with the Archer. Plus I like working with Artemis energy, the virgin goddess who hunted in the forest with her bow. I guess it fits with my interest in ancient times. If society collapsed, being able shoot an accurate arrow would come in handy.

Tell us about one of your favourite books.

Ludo and the Star Horse by Mary Stewart. I first heard this on Jackanory - yes I liked Jackanory, it was great! I remember being enchanted. Spell bound. I still read it regularly. It plots the journey of a young boy through the star country of the 12 signs of the zodiac. Ludo accompanies his horse through the twelve houses to catch the sun. The only chance for his horse to survive is to catch the sun, and be harnessed to the solar chariot - otherwise he will die. Ludo enters the star country in the house of the Archer, Sagittarius. He then travels through all of the houses meeting the 'Lords' of the house on his way. Some are benevolent some cruel. He learns so much on his journey and grows as an individual. His loyalty is rewarded in the house of the Scorpion, when he is allowed to return to the real world and his companion passes through death to become immortal and pull the chariot of the sun. Ludo returns home; he is found in the snow - he has been buried in an avalanche and as he looks to the sky he sees his horse gallop across the dark expanse and into the dawn, his golden shoe striking sparks from the top of the mountain. It always makes me cry. It is of course one of those script stories that appealed to me because it resonates with my life path. As well as the obvious astrological and mystical setting it describes a journey through life, the ups and downs and how sometimes we all need someone to travel along side so that we can achieve our dreams.

Tell us about one of your proudest achievements outside of your family.

I think all of the above qualifies. Getting back onto my true path. Being able to meet old school friends and hold my head up high, to know that I have fulfilled my potential at last. Being a mental health professional, working in the NHS - having a busy Private Practice. I am so proud of what I have achieved. Its all the more important to me knowing that I came from such a place of despair to do it. I am proud of that. When I actually graduate with my Masters degree it will be a dream come true. Then comes the PhD - I want the title!

So there it is. If anyone wants to do an interview email me and i will come up with 5 questions. Thanks Kahless - I have enjoyed it.

Ok so thats enough cleaning!

I don't like doing the housewife thing. I really really don't like doing it. I can stand about 48 hours of it and then I seem to lose the plot. The wheels come off the wagon and I grind to a halt imagining life to be an unfair conspiracy to keep me imprisoned in an endless cycle of laundry, cooking and cleaning. Not for me the sunny day outside, not for me the opportunities of the open road, not for me the countless wonderful experiences that are out there. Hey I know its scripty crap but it still takes me completely by surprise. Amazing what a sustained blitz at the kitchen can do to my mental health, which also sheds light onto why I got quite so depressed for 10 years raising my kids. Which also brings me onto the next question in Kahless's interview so I shall make myself a cuppa and start writing. Writing is so cathartic and I will be right as rain in a couple of hours!

I am having a tidying day

Its bank holiday weekend. The weather is great, got my Lara Croft shorts on and I have a day with nothing in particular to do. I am going to sort out my blogs - ie visit everyones blog that is on my roll and go hunting for others. I rarely get the luxury of just surfing. Plus do at least one more question from Kahless's interview.

The other thing I fancy doing is tidying. Now I am no house keeper. I loathe cleaning, I cannot raise any enthusiasm for cleaning products, I tend to make beds once every couple of months. It is a picture of slovenly deshevellment. However, today I really do need to smell cif lemon fresh and be able to go into the untility room without a bio hazard suit on. So my friends, its rubber gloves and a squeegy for me today.

I am going to crack on, get some heavy rock on the stereo and get jiggy with the bleach.

See you later.

Do you like my new pic?

The old pic seems to have disappeared but I found a new one and she looks far more like me. In fact she could be me - and I will be getting this outfit along with the other leather treats when I hit my target weight loss. Woo hoo. Vixen is well and truly back!

The rest of Kahless's interview will probably be tomorrow (come back Kahless we all miss you). I have just finished chatting to Pixie, following a massage client so I need to relax with my bowl of fruit. No, its not code for something involving plums and melons but all free foods and therefore I can eat to my hearts content.

Getting back to my old self

Its quiet in Blogland tonight but I want to write a little post. Feel as if I have not been attending to things over much. School holidays and all that! I still have the interview with Kahless to do, the questions she asked are: -

What makes you smile?
How did you get into being a masseur?
Imagine you are a champion sportswoman. What sport would you excel at and why this one?
Tell us about one of your favourite books.
Tell us about one of your proudest achievements outside of your family.

I shall reveal all tomorrow as I would like to be all fresh and fluffy to answer such questions. As opposed to knackered and frisky. Bit of a contradiction in terms but I feel dead tired after my day working in the NHS.

As for the friskiness, well I have lost all my holiday weight and fitting into my clothes rather nicely. Got the bit between my teeth with exercise and I keep visualising myself in black leather coat and trousers plus boots. It feels great to have a stirring - my essay hell seemed to have eradicated any sensual needs and revellings but it looks like normality is being restored. About bloody time!

Come to think of it, I will answer question number 1. Why not?

What makes me smile? Now, is that smile or laugh? I always laugh when someone falls over in a comical fashion. It comes from my Dad who used to fall over regularly. I once spent an entire 3 mile walk laughing hysterically with my sister after my dad fell over 5 times. Trips, slips and stumbles, the final straw was when he slipped on a stile and crushed the family jewels on an uncompromising wooden slat.

He went down the side of a cliff once, all we heard was was a plaintive curse "these crappy shoes!". He fell down the stairs at night - stepped out into the abyss thinking it was his bedroom door. We all leapt out of bed to find Dad groaning at the bottom of the stairs. No one helped him, we were all to busy laughing. It sounds cruel, but you havnt seen my Dad!

I am not one for slap stick comedy but I will always always laugh when someone falls over.

As for things that make me smile, my kitten Lewis regularly does. I love the way he swaggers about and tackles huge obstacles with manic optimism. I smile all the time, I smile when i think of what I have achieved, I smile when I think of my family, my friends - the warm and wonderful people in my life. I smile when I think of my witchy powers, of finding my right path, lots of stuff. I smile at life and how wonderful it is.

OK folks thats enough from me. I still have a few holiday snaps to share and a whole series on, 'What it means to be a witch' - you have been warned.

Shall I, shan't I?

Hello all you lovely bloggers. It is me, Vixen - after all the Bobo fluster I do hope that normal service will now be resumed.

Just a quickie as I am off to get weighed. I am thinking of joining a Kick Boxing academy. I have been wanting to do self defence for a while and after all the shenanigans with Bobo I thought that a black belt may come in handy.

Its a little more expensive than I would like, and its a commitment. I am not sure, but I know it would be a good thing for me. I shy away from confrontation and I want to tackle my Please You driver. Kick boxing may be just the thing, plus I would get fit and lose weight. I sooooo like the idea of having a black belt!

On the way out of the car park, one of the instructors had to move his car. There were a group of wispy youths blocking his way. He gave them ample opportunity to move then just drove over them. (loud laughter) I kid you not, the guy just drove into this youth and went over his foot without a care in the world. 'Said youth' responded by gesturing in a tried and trusted Anglo Saxon salute, and bawled "You Twat" at the instructor. Mr Black Belt killer simply waved and drove on. Now that is the kind of confidence I want to have!

Is your blog safe from Bobo?

So it has been revealed: The Power Behind the Throne of Queen Vixen is none other but I! Bobo ... NaaHaHaHaHaHa

Yes, as a loyal servant, I designed this blog to the precise specifications of my witchy queen chum, and still retain residual technical support privileges. Privileges that allow me test out the intricacies of posting via email by just making one tiny wee modest hardly noticable error, in an otherwise perfect trail ... ish.

Luckily, I am a responsible hidden hand. I completely resist the temptation to introduce spurious edits, as I could. Or upload artwork of questionable taste, as I could. Or impersonate my Queen with tales of faiery magick and hot throbing rock concerts, as I could.

No, my role is that of the very 'umble Uriah Heep (the Dickens character, not the 70s rock band), here to serve from behind the shadows, into which I will disappear ... so you can rest easy. Your blog is safe from Bobo!

The holiday

Finally got some time to write. Ok, so the kids are howling for their food, the cat tray smells so bad that it could be the next international deterrent and the ironing is taking on its own identity; It has its own sovereign state in the corner of the Snug. But so what, SOD IT! I vowed when I came back from holiday that Sunday was going to be restored to a day of rest; Peace, spiritual practices and pleasure. I have picked out my angel card for the week - Patience. (Bummer - I hate that one, I am not patient at all. Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up that's me. Manic rushing around most of the time) I am now blogging and have chilled out today. So thats a good start to the new regime.

I want to share a few pics from my holiday although I don't reckon a blow by blow account is really necessary, hooray I hear you cry, so I will post some pithy observations instead.

It was a holiday of two weeks. The first one in a static van, the second in a cottage. The weather was totally glorious. Sunny, I got a tan - I spent at least 5 days on the beach soaking up the sun and reading. Relaxation was at maximum and I can honestly say that I have only just got myself back. Most of me has been in Pembrokeshire muttering about how life should be and how crap working really is. Give me a VW van and a head scarf and I would be off to live in a wigwam.

One thing I have learnt though and my first observation is that I have finally kicked the caravan habit. I will never ever ever stay in a van again. It was damp, it was cramped and the beds were dreadful. For many years I have loved vans, transforming into a 7 year old the minute I walked in the door. Rose coloured specs firmly in place as I ooohed and ahhhged over the miniature stove and bedrooms. The cosy lounge that doubled up as a diner and being woken by the crows stomping on the roof and the little kettle that whistled on the hob. mmmmm yes, right - ok, finally shaken that off. Give me a BIG agar, real beds that are warm and in proper rooms, space to read in solitude when Jeremy Kyle is being avidly watched and no impact from the surrounding wildlife. Yes, its buildings with bricks for me from now on!

The holiday was ace, in spite of the van. Pembrokeshire was glorious.

I usually rush round like a Japanese tourist on hols but not this time. The Beach loomed large. Of course the weather helped but even so I would have gone there anyway; spending large chunks of time listening to the sea seems to clear out all the crap, from my head at least. I have resisted The Beach for a lot of my life. Loved it as a kid but once I had kids of my own it was a place of torture; endless requests for the toilet and ice creams. I used to do anything to avoid the beach but now they are all grown up and happy to book their own wetsuits and surf boards its a place of tranquility and peace.

I still enforce the law on the beach; Any activity is the total responsibility of the 'Dad'. Mr Vixen has always been the most amazing beach Dad and I am so grateful for this. He has played cricket and rounders. He has played endlessly in dingies and on body boards. All I have to do is prepare the picnic and read. Great stuff! This year was no exception and I caught up with my personal journal, read my new witchy book, sorted my entire diet out including recipes as well as an even more in depth look at the Tarot. Beach bliss!

Right ... wondered how long it would be ... daughter has just protested in a very loud and aggrieved way about the lack of activity in the kitchen. Maybe that should be the next Sunday rule, no cooking!

The Bobo Identity

And no, I am not going to reveal the real identity of Bobo although he is having a good shot at doing that himself. Just thought it was a bit like the Bourne identity - unknown assassin shows up etc etc.

Soooooo Bobo. I am sure that we all have people in blog land that we know very well and thats part of the fun.

Bobo built my website for my business so he is a highly competent and excellent web man. As a favour and a gift, and an overall nice thing to do he also set up my blog. Website and blog - and the only payment he accepted was a book and a candle. No bell, notice, although maybe the third element is needed now to vanish the wraith of bobo from my blog.

Bobo is also a friend - I should say this. He may get all upset and flounce off if I dont. He claims to like being teased so I am having a field day. He is an excellent therapist and as I said in a reference I wrote for him, "he is a vibrant member of the TA community." He just gets his blogs in a pickle.

I notified Bobo of the massive indiscretion of posting to my blog and he apologised and said he did it via email and sent it to the wrong address. He has his own password to my blog as he was originally the author. He meant to send to his blog but obviously keyed in the wrong details ....

So there you are. Should I be more paranoid than this? Maybe the bevy of goddesses that commented on my last post may have more opinions on this one. I could go on and on and on - but I wont. I shall just prepare myself for more chortling.

Hey Bobo - get off my blog

Ayup this is a fine state of affairs. Bobo seems to be posting to my blog. Bit scary. I am getting paranoid and feel rather exposed.

Hey you - sling it!

PS I know this is a mistake from Mr Bobo but I will leave it up to have a good old laugh!!!

Or maybe not - it does contain some details that should not be seen.

PPS I have deleted it to spare his blushes but will leave this one up so there can be some sniggers.

:o)

I am going to a Moot

Just want to share my news. I have been in touch with the East Mids Pagan Federation and I am off to a Moot on 5th of September. Its in Nottingham and seems to rely heavily on the 'pub next door' with a guest speaker in the main room thingy. The talk is on Quantum Magick - or how magick works. Right up my street!

I feel wildly excited by the prospect. I am aware that the reality may be a bunch of wierdies, beard and beer bellies aplenty, swilling ale and extoling the virtues of free love but at the moment I am thinking fondly of some exotically elfin women and earthy green men types discussing theory and practice. A place to exhange ideas and laugh, the odd chant and plenty of pentacles.

Either way it will be fun and a whole new experience. Pagans know how to enjoy themselves - guilt being one of those things that is rejected completely and sent packing, "and it harm none, do as you will" being the motto. In actual fact that motto means that most pagans are very responsible people, generally kind and most deffinately environmentaly friendly.

If I come back with the jitters, muttering into my tea with post Moot trauma, try not to say "I told you so" - for now I am all enthused.

Holiday Blues - and lots of catch up

So sorry for being absent for so long. The whole time I was away on hols I was making mental notes of all the things I could blog about. Now I am back I have been struck by the post holiday blues lurgey - I cant be bothered to do anything!

In fairness to me, I am playing catch up. Lots of stuff piles up while you are away and the kids are still on holiday etc etc but I have pics to show you, and ideas for posts galore so it will happen. Promise it will.

As I write I am still in bed. Could not be arsed to get up. I have to haul my butt over to North Derbyshire in an hour for my surgery day, but have spent my preparation time drinking tea, eating cornflakes and cuddling Lewis, who is curled up in the crook of my arm making typing a tad awkward!

I have also been enjoying surfing the Pagan Federations website, I need a wider network of fellow wierdy folk and feel that this particular one is vibrant and inclusive. Its always a tricky one, how wierd is wierd? Some wierdies are way too wierd and I dont want to swap the tambourine and church hall cup of tea for a tabor and a glass of mead if you know what I mean. Organised groups tend to have the same dynamic whether singing for 'Jesus' or dancing round a brightly coloured pole. So I am wary - shall I dip my toe in the water or not? Whether I join or not there seems to be some interesting gatherings to attend.

Anyway - lest I ramble, I had better get up now but will be back blogging shortly. It may be the weekend now but I will do my best.