Lost in a world that doesn’t exist.

Quote Anon (possibly song lyrics)

We are all absorbed in a world that often isn’t what it seems, always learning new things and what I’m going to share blew my brain. Its an experiment conducted by Dr. Masaru Emoto, where cooked rice was put in three beakers. Dr Masaru then speaks to the beakers daily (or shouts), you can also label them. The results blew my brain and I invite you to try it yourself.

What do you need?

  • 3 jars
  • 3 teaspoons of cooked rice
  • a best friend (optional)
  • a permeant marker to label the jars, or a sticky label and pen.

My bestie and I were talking about the experiment and I have to say, I was intrigued. I seized the day and grabbed three jars. I labelled my three jars gratitude, disgusting and ignore.

I placed a teaspoon of cooked rice in each jar, let in cool and then sealed it. I then spent the next few weeks daily telling each jar how thankful I was for it, how revolting it was…or I ignored it. Over the next few days and weeks I then sent the following photos to my bestie and we exchanged thoughts on the experiment. A good google will give you lots of scientific analysis and tell you more information on the experiment, below are my results after thirty days.

When I opened the jars (outside in the garden) the gratitude jar has no sign of fermenting, it smelt sweet but not necessarily pleasant, I really couldn’t believe how clear it was. The disgusting jar was very different – the smell packed a punched and the rotting is clear to see. I could see at least five different types of mould. The ignore jar looked clear too (which surprised me) the water in the jar was a little cloudy, however when I opened the jar the smell was unbearable and I’ve changed many nappies at close range.

I realise that this isn’t  very ‘scientific’ and that there are many variables; from the position of the jars, how many grains were in each jar, what was in the jar previously…the list goes on, but my world was altered for the better from doing this experiment and perhaps thats all that is necessary. Below are my thoughts and what I’ve taken from this…

1). If humans are approximately 60% water and water has a conscience- then how we speak to ourselves and how we let others speak to us has much more of mental and physical effect than I ever perceived. Since doing the experiment I am much more aware of my inner voice and the thoughts I choose to think, I also avoid being around others that could poison my jar. If the conversation turns negative, I make my apologies and leave.

2). Now I understand why my Nanny talks to her plants. If rice in a jar can be THAT effected by negative words, objects I once thought were just that – objects, are much more sensitive to their surroundings. *at this point my brain slightly blows with incomprehensible truths about the world we live in. If the sea, plant life and animal kingdom are all receptive to the energy projected at them then the first place to start being kind is to ourselves and then to spread the kindness and gratitude like…water.

3). My son was part of this experiment but I will do it with him again when he is slightly older, I hope it will teach him about his inner powers.

This last image is powerful but again, don’t take my word for it. Grab yourself a jar or two and let me know how the conscious rice experiment works for you.

And like a book cover I am what I hide

As soon as I saw this quote my heart did a double flip, after all I love books and I adore quotes.

Probably because I love learning, I like the fact that once we open our eyes as new born’s we don’t stop until our last breath – even if we wanted to. Books are a great place for wisdom, bringing far away lands closer or learning how to rustle up something for dinner.

Book covers however, just like the human body are highly controversial. Within this corner of the internet there are many posts on judgement – so here comes my confession. I totally judge a book by its cover. (*hides head in shame) In brutal honesty I love a cover that is bright and vibrant, if it has glitter – all the better, a little embossing never did anyone any harm…did I mention glitter?

That said a couple of years ago I began to read the top 100 novels of all time, so far I’ve read some epic classic’s and once again I’ll be honest and say that often the covers of the most thrilling book aren’t that vibrant.

However, like my cover or not, I am more complex in the story I tell. If you were to meet me I have an advantage – I can decide what I tell you, how I portray me, the leading lady. I can let you have a quick flick and leave feeling satisfied or I can pour out a chapter if I think you can relate to it, but most of my chapters live inside my head and the best ones are inside my heart. They aren’t shared with the world, loved ones or enemies – some stories live in people so deeply buried that even they forget they are there.

Some people walk around with their book wide open, they have fast track pages to the juicy bits and just like a book, if you expose it to the elements, the paper will perish in time. Others keep their book sealed that it isn’t worthy of existing. It hides in the shadows and without light and adventure the pages are empty. A note book isn’t a life worth living.

This brings me on nicely to genre’s; some people are pure romantics intwined in a relationship that lasts a life time…some are thrillers, crime based tales or I’m afraid – tragedies. Then there are the purely non fiction people who only exist for a work related goal, they usually have a specialism, a niche and there book slowly absorbs the pages of a slice of life. The saddest part about books is how many words they hold. Some are epic tales with thousands of adventures amongst millions of words, commas and full stops…some are only a handful of pages before the book comes to an abrupt end.

So, whilst you work on your happy ever after, I wouldn’t worry too much about putting effort in to your cover, how you appear will probably only attract a shallow reader to the shelf. Instead, as always I’d recommend balance, perhaps invest in a strong spine to hold you together, pay attention to who you decide to share your chapters with, however should it all go wrong, don’t panic – everyone loves a plot twist. Don’t worry if the book isn’t long, we can’t always control the precious time we are given, but do pay attention to the experiences you have, the climaxes and the contrast…and when all is said and done, if you have any budget left, sprinkle a little glitter on your front cover, after all a tale isn’t great if nobody ever reads it.

The little things x2

It was back in August that Kirsty swam into our lives, you may want to recap with a quick read by pressing here , she wasn’t exactly invited and her entrance made me go against one of the many “when I’m a parent I won’t do that” things, you see my son has always had muslins as comforters – to avoid the love and devotion being put on to one toy that could be lost (dam you Kirsty).

It turns out that Kirsty is named after one of my work friends; my son is a little bit in love with her and since the arrival of fish hat Kirsty we now have shark Kirsty, crocodile Kirsty and at times Kirsty even pops up during Star wars battles.

When I wrote the last article I probably thought that fish hat Kirsty wouldn’t be around for very long, my son has my attention span for objects and quickly moves on…but not with Kirsty.

Kirsty the hat fish came to Barbados with us. She stayed in the hotel suite during the day (the sun/sand combo doesn’t agree with her scaly complexion)  but was allowed out for evening meals, cocktails and dancing by the pool edge. If you think this sounds romantic then you’ve never holidays with a three year old, a time difference that makes keeping said three year old awake long enough to jam some food in his mouth a mission. Most evenings we had some small success, but mainly we were always the first to the buffet restaurant (where you don’t waste valuable minutes waiting for your waitress) and minutes later Daddy was carrying sleeping boy in his arms whilst I juggled as many cocktails as I could carry in stilettos behind them.

However, one night Kirsty joined us for ‘Beach Barbecue Night’ and some how we made it through a leisurely meal? The next night however was a new challenge…a screaming little man realised – Kirsty was gone. If as a parent your child has ever lost their favourite sleeping companion you’ll know that to say my heart was in my stomach doesn’t come close, add that he wasn’t in his own bed, a huge time difference and an awareness that we were disturbing the people in hotel rooms near us means I did what any logical parent would do: I launched operation ‘find Kirsty NOW’. My first stop was to the glamorous receptionist on the night desk..

Gorgeous receptionist: Hi Mam, how can I help you this evening?

Me (stressed Mum): Hi, yeah my son has lost his favourite toy, he won’t sleep without it.

GR: No worries, I can phone down to lost property for you.

Me: that would be amazing…

GR: what does the toy look like?(she picks up the phone and dials the security office)

Me: Its a giant red fish…well hat, yes its a big red fish hat.

GR: I’m sorry madame, did you say a fish hat?

Me: yes?

Needless to say I looked like an insane woman who had had one to many rum cocktails (if only) however the massive security guard who kindly returned Kirsty to my by then hyperventilating child was more confused and enquired where you even buy such an item. Obviously the wacky and innotative flying Tiger hasn’t hit the shores of the Carribean yet. All I cared about what that my son was pacified and sleep for all on the island looked more promising that night.

Since safely returning to the UK it has come to my attention that despite being in the clutches of my sons hands 24/7 Kirsty has some serious skills. She has swerved the washing machine on many occasions (it would seem despite being a fish Kirsty isn’t that keen on water), little dude has spent the last few weeks with a tummy bug – everything within a one hundred mile radius has had some sort of puke over it…but not Kirsty, during night time nappy weaning (yes we are free of those costly never going to bio degrade wads of wee) when beds have been changed at ridiculous o’clock – Kirsty lay untouched by liquid, how she does it i’ll never know.

He still wears her with pride, but mainly they play together and we are still not allowed to mention the word ‘hat’ near her. She is much more than an accessory, she is probably his first love. I have to say as a mother I had higher hopes for my son than a giant red fish, but I guess thats another lesson kirsty has taught us: love is blind.


Sensory #8

Today’s learning experience comes from the advice of fellow bloggers. I recently reached out to my Mummy crew and asked a question…

Although I know it’s a normal learning stage at 2 1/2 years J loves to recite his numbers – but rarely in order…any tips for helping him to sequence?

Clare from Clare’s little tots came back with a gem of an idea (a kind of paper version of numbers through the hall) and it really captured my imagination. Unlike most halls ours is large and square rather than long and narrow, whilst I put my brain into ‘Mummy Mind mode’ we took a break to our local park, as I looked down on the floor I realised the work had been done for me.

This snake (below) is ace for sequencing and so many lovely games!   The photo above shows J and his cars…(who in there right mind would ever leave the house without a car / digger in each hand?) on a classic hop scotch, however we recently played a lovely game where I asked him to put the car on the ‘number 3’ etc and it seemed to help him with number recognition.

So, I guess this blog is about realising that sometimes the work has already been done and we need to utilise it. Next time you and your monster crew are at the park take a moment to look at the floor- you may be inspired! Don’t be put off by the weather either, I find the floor activities are even more enjoyable with the slides / swings are wet…plus a puddle adds an entirely new dimension to play, and it’s generally quieter.