Festival Virgins!

Since Ricky and I first met, we bonded over the mutual love of several strange things like cheese and jam sammiches (yes that's purposely misspelled). However, our taste in music wasn't quite on the same wave length, he had his core music likings in the world of heavy metal, and for me it's been quite eclectic, to say the least. He's always loved going to concerts, enjoying the live performances and the energy and atmosphere each concert has. Whilst I've been quite content with listening to my Pandora radio (now defunct in Australia, insert sad face here), or Spotify, CD's or the radio. 

The only real experience I've had with concerts was being an usher at the Michael Jackson Black tour in 1996. Didn't care for it much. I hate loud music unless I'm dancing to it or it's the classical stuff, full of string instruments that make your skin all goose bumpy. When my younger brother asked I wanted to go to Jack Johnson in December I immediately said yes, quickly followed by a no and then a can I think about it. My indecision, partly to do with anxiety, and a feeling we had booking for a market that weekend, kept up for almost a week when I finally said just get them! Last Tuesday he purchased the tickets and I'm now going to go to my first official concert. 

I spent the next couple of days packing for a music festival in the Sunshine Coast Hinterland, not having ever attended a festival of this type before, I had no idea what to expect. I've seen photos but that's the extent of my exposure. The line up had been billed for a while now and I hadn't recognised any of the names, which is ok, I'm not familiar with every band, group, singer out there. I honestly wasn't expecting to be submerged into a music culture that gets you from the inside. 

Thursday afternoon we arrived at Mitchell Creek for the first day of our 5 day adventure. We slowly set up our camping area which was directly behind our stall, massive blessing in disguise which I'll explain later. Marquees up, no tent as it was way too humongous for only two people, table for the stall were up, our camping set up was ready, we were set. Of course, being on diuretics, I had to find where the closest toilet was and ensure that in an early morning rush I could make it safely, there were a few close calls but I always made it. 

Where the festival is situated has to be seen. It's on private property, owned by the event organiser, 

Jimmy. The stage, camping and stall areas are in close proximity to the other and set in the valley along a creek. The dry winter meant the grass was crunchy and dry underfoot and no fires were allowed. Ricky and I left our camp and wandered around, looking for dinner as we were too tired from such a long days journeying. We found a Thai foodie. Serious yums were had that night. Their spring rolls were very yummy, but not quite as good as mine, but don't we all say that? They also had curry puffs. Ricky's always been partial to a good curry, however, I've been a little more hesitant. I tried their curry puffs and it was delicious. The curry flavour wasn't over powering the veges that were in the filling, the pasty was soft but kept its shape. Just perfect. Rick ordered pad Thai for his dinner and I ordered beef masaman. I shouldn't have eaten it all by myself. My tummy can be a bit intolerant to coconut milk/cream and spicy chilli. It was only mild but added to the over all flavours of the dish. Luckily it didn't react as badly as most of my previous experiences, hahaha. 

Friday morning the bands started around 10am. I wasn't too excited, I wasn't really looking forward to any of it to be honest. By now my anxiety and panic attack was setting in, knowing that we had spent so much money on the weekend, thinking just make what we spent and be happy. All day I felt it creeping up, sinking it's teeth in with the negative mantras that circulate deep within my psyche. When self doubt starts the snowball effect of anxiety and panic attacks will just continue until I sleep. Sometimes I'll wake feeling free, sometimes I'll still be trapped within its grasp. That night, I got a break, just long enough to hear the chorus to the song Natural Woman by 19twenty. I fell asleep. 

The next morning I wasn't 100% but pushed through. The lyrics to Natural Woman echoed in my mind all day in between guest spots from Jack Johnson and other artist, I had an abridged version of songs in concert playing in my head. ALL FREAKING DAY! 

Ricky wandered over to the merchandise tent as we weren't very busy with our stall, to grab a CD of 19twenty. I hadn't told him that I had fallen in love with their song. He got the CD with the song he liked. I was a little disappointed but thought, it's ok. He went back the next day to get the CD with my song on it. 

Sunday morning came rushing in too quickly. The nights, initially were cold as hell, you felt it get down into your bones, the days were warm, but the wind would pick up and cool it down enough. My anxiety had taken off for the moment and allowed me some time to enjoy the entertainment, on the last day of performances, I mean seriously couldn't you have left earlier anxiety?

We both spent the day creating some Mitchell Creek pieces, carrying the vibe of the area within the pieces we had made. Towards the afternoon, as the sun started to drift down behind the hills, we moved to the front of our stall with a little table of pieces to make and some snacks and later dinner. 

The bands just went off for their last performances. Wow! I got to feel the full energy of the whole event, the air was electric, and lightly perfumed by smokers of the green variety. I was finally in a place where I could let the music in, I felt it deep in my belly, wanting to get out and scream and 

roar. There was a thunder inside me that needed to escape. Age, anxiety and conditioned social norms kept me from truly letting go the way I wanted. That night we went to bed late and left our light on again. 

I wanted to keep the lights on as we had people walking in between our stalls and neither of our neighbours were comfortable with this. We did everything we could to block it off. Luckily for us we had been, for the most part successful, as come Saturday night three stalls, who's area was poorly lit as they were around the corner from the main stage and arena, were broken into and their stock stolen. One stall had over $2000 worth of their stock taken, macrame jewellery and hand carved bone pendants, another stall was handmade rings made of kitchen utensils and the other was a cured meats stall. Most of the stock was returned. The rumours abound regarding who it was, when it happened. Luckily we kept our lights on that night. 

This was the only negative thing that happened during the five days, one incident that was caused by non-festival goers (or so the rumour goes). 

After the arduous task of breaking down the camp site, repacking the back of the ute and ensuring we hadn't left and rubbish, we made our trek home. Ricky and I were energised from the festival. Our creativity, our minds were in overdrive for what we wanted to do next year. As we listened to our new CD's on the way home we gabbed about getting our Gucci van ready for next years festival, how we'd set up the stall and the camping area behind, what we would do differently, what we'd bring that we forgot at home. 

It's almost exactly 12 months until the next festival. Next year I won't spend my time sleeping off my anxiety. I'm going to say "FUCK IT! LET'S JUST DO THIS THING!!!"

Ekka.

We've been quite busy readying ourselves for the Ekka in August. For those of you that don't know or haven't heard of the Ekka, it's an annual affair where country farmers present their wares, livestock, produce to the city folk. It's a great event that brings the country cousins to the city. There are rides, wood chopping competitions, bake offs, dog shows, show bags (many of which are procured just for the myriad of junk food which is inevitably ingested before riding on fair ground rides), the strawberry ice creams and the dagwood dogs.

This year they welcome a new area to the show, Makers Street, which will literally be taking up space on a street just up from the show bag pavilion. We are lucky enough to be one of the exhibitors in this new area. The process started around February/March this year and has been a mixed bag of emotions; genuine pleasure at being invited to take part of the inaugural Makers Street, fear of paying site fees, anxiety of having to create a bulk lot of stock that will be sold during the 7 days we opted to be at the Ekka, and lastly the unknown quotient- my health. I fear that exhaustion could be more than what I have bargained for and 7 days straight of trading could takes it toll on me.

Nonetheless I know it will be a great experience and amazing exposure for our little business.

The old normal

Towards the end of the last year Rick and I went through a drastic change in lifestyle and income. He was let go from his old job. While financially beneficial, it wasn't helping us in any other way. Rick was suffering from micro-sleeps on the way to work, he was constantly stressed, he was away from home for a minimum of 10 hours a day some 14-16 hours shifts would happen at least once a fortnight.

With the proverbial rug pulled out from under us, we were left hanging and re-thinking and re-assessing what we really needed in life, what our goals were, what we could afford to buy during a weekly shop, this evidently didn't end up being very much at all.

Last night, while at the chemist, I was feeling out of sorts and not in the right frame of mind to do any shopping. Our chemist carries a lot of products that aren't just medical or therapeutic related, laundry liquid, make up, toilet paper, all the stuff I call bathroom things. While we waited for my scripts to be filled, we walked around to grab the other items that we desperately needed, bad idea as my sense of budgetary constraints weren't functional. These were just simple item, face wash, mouth wash, new toothbrushes (ours were about 8 months old), laundry liquid, normal items most people would shop for.

This morning, after breakfast, I used my face wash, brush my teeth with the new brush heads, used the dental floss before using the mouthwash we had just purchased, as I listened to the washing machine churn with our newly purchase laundry liquid.  Such simple normal things. An everyday routine for most that I hadn't been able to participate in. As I flossed and realise the amount of laundry I was facing, as sense of gratitude for the lack of control over budgetary constraints whilst at the chemist, washed over me. I thought to myself, this is what our old normal was. Spending money without really needing to conform to a set budget. I choked back a little as tears welled up.

We've been struggling to get used to our new norms. The little things have been hard. My parents have been coming over, using the excuse of saying hello so they can drop off home grown vegetables and other goodies that they have "too much" of. Their visits have become more frequent. I appreciate their help immensely, although hard for me to accept as I feel we shouldn't be in this position, but know we need to learn a lesson from it.

Simple things that we used to take for granted. $5 of chips from the fish and chip shop was nothing. We now factor in if we have enough petrol for an extra trip down the road, do we have enough drinking water and petrol to go and get more water. Can we buy fresh vegetables and fruit or will we have to wait for next weeks pay. Which of my medications do you we wait for, which ones can I safely not take so that we can keep to the budget. Restrictions I've not faced in nearly 10 years.

It has been hard, but to be honest, there is nothing about our life now that I would want different. I have a greater appreciation for friends and family who offer help without being asked. I have a greater sense of what we waste and what we use in our fridge. Left overs are given to our dogs as to make sure it's not just a waste of food but to respect the animals, the farmers, the land from which the base ingredients come from. My mindset is slowly changing, and that is the greatest and best change that I have been allowed to experience.

New direction

Rick and I have been in our little piece of heaven for almost 8 years now. It's the longest I've ever stayed put in the one place, I've never lived in a house longer than 5 years. I've been fearful that I've become restless, anxious and wanting to break free. I don't know if I'll ever really escape that feeling. As the years progress, I know I've surrounded myself with unwanted clutter, burying my emotions and fears with material things, so I don't have to deal with the deeper issues that lie just below the surface.

We have recently decided to purchase an large, old caravan that has had the guts of it removed and ready to be renovated. We have a small 3mx3m shed ready to put up as an extension for an outdoor bathroom, god help me during the winter months, hahahaha. We will be creating an outdoor kitchen on the deck of the caravan. We're downsizing our life to be able to live it larger and with more vigour.

We've never had a big house, rented or owned. I'm not a fan of having a big house, so much more to clean and the echoes would haunt me, as I would be alone for most of the day, just myself and my dogs. Moving from a two bedroom little cottage, to a tiny house/caravan is going to be hard; however the ability to down size our lives to something more manageable and less cluttered and materialistic, that would be more heavenly than what we have now.

I've been thinking about how all the shoes I used to wear to work when I worked in a call centre have just been wasted as they have just sat in wardrobes, unused and disintegrating from lack of use. The shoes I do wear aren't the expensive $180 shoes that are not comfortable or look pretty but are impractical. I have clothes that I have worn once, they were gorgeous on, but in the scheme of things there were no places we frequented that would require me to wear an after 5 dress.

I have underwear drawers that have bras that I hate, yet hold on to them just in case; in my head I always ask myself, "What? Just in case you stop hating them and they become comfortable?" Yup! I keep useless underwear.

I figured it's time to get real with our lives, we're not here forever and there's no real point accumulating things that will just bury us under debt and waste.

I'm planning on donating what I can to charity shops and offering them on facebook grops as a way to give back to people. We'll sell some pieces of furniture or gadgetry, in order to fund the transformation of the caravan. We'll reuse, mend, transform some clothing into floor rugs, cleaning rags etc. in order to save some finances being spent on items that can easily be created at home.

The most important thing for us is to reduce our waste.

At the moment we're making a point of going through our freezers and not buying copious amounts of food that will spoil or be forgotten. We're making our left overs that have been frozen or close to the expiry date into dog food; I swear they've never eaten this well. We want our food to be more nourishing, not just a quick and fast solution to the I'm hungry what's to eat banter that has been our lives in the last 8 years.

With this caravan we're downsizing our lives and hopefully creating something more personal and meaningful by creating a vegetable and herb garden near the caravan. We're hoping to use our grey water as underground irrigation for the vegetable garden and the fruit trees. We'd like to also use our vegetable scraps for compost and regrow vegetables and herbs from the off cuts of shallots, celery, silver-beet, coriander. Some recipes call for just one stick of celery and I abhor the idea of having to buy a whole celery bunch just to utilise one stick, so wasteful, and the celery never stays fresh in the fridge like it would if it was still in the garden thriving.

Our lives have become so cluttered, we don't know to function effectively within our own home. We joke about lost items within the spare room, un-affectionately named the cat room, as that room has become our dumping ground from what we haven't used or weren't using at the time. This in turn creates more clutter as we assume we don't have a piece of kitchenalia or manchester and purchase another one to satisfy our wants only to rediscover that item a few months later when we dare enter that cat room.

So here's to decluttering our lives and regaining a new sense of focus where it's not just us who will benefit from the change.