Chi Building Week 1 – Results

Me: 60% success

Golden Curly: 60% success

Janin: 60% success

Naughty N: 0% success

Am feeling siren-blaringly grumpy.

On top of having to take kids back to school, suffering post-illness lower back ache and trusting Tesco delivery people to bloody well deliver my juicing stuff for tomorrow morning (which they then didn’t hence many aggravating phone-calls to spotty sounding youths that acted very caringly but in truth were probably chewing their nails and staring at Facebook on their phones whilst fobbing me off with promises that someone would call me back YET DIDN’T), the Fosbury-Goddess went home AND I’ve lost my juicing book.

Could the chi-building week end any more badly?

No.

And how did the chi-building go?

Well, it started very well. Even when the Fosbury Goddess declared a surprise visit, she was also in a chi-building groove and arrived on my sunny doorstep with a bag full of blueberries, blackberries, raspberries and just one bottle of red wine. For us this was startlingly good.

Whilst initially we remained Dorito free, by Friday I had careered recklessly out of control and found myself climbing into bed at two in the morning after a riotous sea bass and asparagus feast (not bad really), quite a few glasses of wine (bad) and far too many socially smoked roll-ups (shameful).

And Doritos.

And Maltesers.

And a Bueno Kinder that Ads had stashed under the blue spotty bowl on alcove above sink.

Strangely enough I didn’t feel even slightly hung over the next day. Decided that maybe the previous period of purity and chi-building had created some sort of late-night badness immunity. Rest of Fosbury visit was only mildly debauch and diluted lavishly with health-promoting activities such as:

* Walking in woods and scrambling down gorse cliffs.

* Buying ancient grammaphone from antique shop and discovering it actually worked. Came with one muffled record that played deliciously old fashioned music like on “Gooooooodnight Sweeeeeetheart.”

* Sitting in garden under stars and talking about Brothers Grimm, Clarissa Pinkola Estes, creativity, mythology and feminism (The House style feminism. Which we need to talk about at some point) whilst burning a wild gorse scented candle in a terracotta pot.

* Seeing badgers.

* Drinking the most delicate, high grade Jasmine tea that Fos brought down from London and I’ve not seen available anywhere on the island.

* Climbing out on ancient walkways on deserted yet beautiful shorelines and watching the sun go down whilst slightly disconcerted by rumbling boom below (caused by a hollow pipe in the ruined wall where ocean is crashing though).

* Visiting Mixologist and Fos getting Frequency Zapped by Mixologist’s Geezer.

* Driving around in two seater black Merc. This is surprisingly good for chi-building.

* Watching Roo on a kayak with Ads catching mackerel whilst me, Pix and Fos sit on rocks like chilly mermaids, shawled in faded blue towels and making Lists about what we want from Life.

All in all, a bloody amazing few days. All of the above made me feel quite non-guilty about the fact I’d failed Week 1 of my own Groove-athon Challenge.

So what about the others?

Well, this morning, just as Fos and I were leaving the deli, Golden Curly came in. She had her most dimpled cheeky grin on.

“You definitely beat me,” she insisted.

“No. No, I think you won,” I insisted back.

“Seriously, you won. I ate steak on Saturday night. And Prosecco slush puppies.”

“I ate Doritos and didn’t do one bit of Yoga.”

“I drank coffee,” countered Golden Curley. “And the only meditation I did was when I was lying in bed having a melt down.”

“I think we did bloody well,” I pointed out perkily. “Jol and Naughty N got nil points.”

Was secretly v relieved to see Golden Curley in high spirits. All week had received desperately traumatised texts as she had been having massive breakdown over not being able to have cooked food and drink coffee. Felt very to blame for suggesting we torture ourselves with the Groove-athon. Especially as whilst she was dying, I was secretly having a whale of a time.

“Right, so this week we are juicing and that’s it,” I confirmed with Golden C.

“I’m going to drink coffee too,” she told me firmly.

“And for the body bit we are spending time in nature?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Good.”

And now here I am, back to Monday night again, ready to begin once again. Not feeling quite so grumpy. In fact am even mildly motivated. Ads has just come in from spearfishing and has found my Juicing book lying on the arm of the chair exactly where I left it. I love him.

And I stopped writing, went to into the kitchen to find a little tub by my kettle. It was the brown box of loose jasmine tea that Fos brought down from London and on top it says “with love”. I love her.

And then, just as I was coming back, I noticed the box of cereal bars that Ads brought for kids packed lunches and I ate one. Because they are chi-building. And because they taste good. And because today is a new day/week!!

 

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