driving miss robyn: another ghost of Christmas past <body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d31774133\x26blogName\x3ddriving+miss+robyn\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLUE\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttp://missrobynbme.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_AU\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://missrobynbme.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d-1578531726641110294', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

a journey of self discovery. You just never know what we might see. Is that a fairy ring under that rowan tree? Look! - a hedgewitch, I wonder what she is brewing in her cauldron today. Oh, and look at that poor menopausal soul, she needs our love & understanding. We may take a stop at the creativity school or a wander through the garden. And maybe, we will take the time machine back to the past! But wherever we go, we will always take time to stop for tea.

My Photo
Location: Katoomba, NSW, Australia

here I am in a little cottage that evokes the energies of my ancestral lands - a cottage on the moors of Cornwall, or on the cliff tops of Ireland or Scotland. It has a hearth. I am a hedge witch {of sorts}. I wear upcycled clothes, patchouli oil and Redback boots. I am a gypsy; an eccentric and a mystic [I often live with a foot in two worlds]. I serve my guests, tea from an old silver teapot. I love Vervain, yarrow, chamomile & mint. Star watcher and Moon gazer. story cloth weaver. keeper of family dreams and wishes. good friend and creator of life. herbal tea drinker and potion maker.

"a friend is someone who knows all about you, and still likes you" my dear DAILY PARCELS

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

another ghost of Christmas past

I would like to know:
just why is Santa holding my hands down?
and why was I crying? (was it because I didn't want to be here on earth? or was it because I was born in the southern hemisphere and knew in my soul that I was in the wrong place. Lord knows I was supposed to be living in Cornwall. Was it because I was thinking - oh gee, here we go again..another life - I wanna go home to the angels! or was it because I am a TRUE Wednesdays child - full of woe added with the ruling planet of Saturn * serious) ~ whatever it was, I wasn't a happy soul this day - 1959 - my first Christmas, ME ~ not quite 1 year old

Labels: , ,


Blogger tlc illustration said...

Dear Robyn - many babies cry when placed on a big, hairy stranger's laps. Especially overworked, somewhat grumpy ones (this does not look like a *happy* Santa). Life can still be good, even if our initial-Santa-contact wasn't all positive. :-)

7:23 am  
Blogger Tinker said...

Aaah! Poor cute little Robyn! My girls were terrified of Santa at that age too. Probably trying to keep you from ripping his beard off! Rip! Tear! Take that and that, Santa! hee hee just kidding. Is your birthday on the first of January? I think you're a whole 21 days older than me. Hope you're having a better day - blogger's not been letting me on your blog again, so I hope this takes!

7:41 am  
Blogger Janet said...

Even crying you're adorable. I think lots of little children are afraid of Santas....they're unfamiliar, don't look like the average guy, and they do that whole HO HO HO thing!!

8:36 am  
Blogger AnnieElf said...

Or it could be a much more mundane reason, Robyn, dearie. Perhaps you did not want to be on that Santa man's lap. After all, he was a stranger and sort of scary looking. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about. Krista would not get NEAR Santa until she was six years old and even then, Quanah had to join her in the picture.

9:16 am  
Blogger Shell said...

Maybe it's because Santa looks as though he is possessed with the devil himself! Geez.

9:32 am  
Blogger Sheila said...

You are a good judge of character and you weren't impressed with this Santa..even at that tender age. He looks like he's waiting for the pub to open...

9:52 am  
Blogger Lisa(oceandreamer) said...

This Santa looks like he'd had a nip prior to this. His suit is too shiny too, looks more like a smoking jacket. No wonder you were crying.

11:17 am  
Blogger Naturegirl said...

Oh what a sweet looking baby you are!
That Santa looks grumpy :(
No wonder you cried!

2:03 pm  
Blogger Daisy Lupin said...

That is one mean looking Santa! Once again we are the same when I was small I was notorious for screaming and not wanting to sit on Santa's lap and running away from him. I used to be quite frightened of Santas, I have been told.

2:11 pm  
Blogger Lisa said...

Maybe he was holding your arms down to keep you from flying away. :)

2:47 pm  
Blogger Blue the Spa Girl said...

THis Santa looks like he is near the end of his shift.
You, are an attuned, divine little thing who picked up on his problems/sadness/energy, and you felt it and it overwhelmed your new little human body.
Robyn, we Saturnian Wednesday children are indeed here reluctantly. We belong out there somewhere. We still have much teaching to do though, so carry on for now love.

4:27 pm  
Blogger Rosa said...

I think I would be crying with that santa too. How dreadful he looks. You look absolutely normal under the circumstances!

6:52 pm  
Blogger Beth said...

He didn't look like a very pleasant Santa,,kind of devilish looking in the eyes,,I think you sensed that, even if you were a wee tyke. I would cry now if I saw a Santa like him,lol.

10:37 am  

Post a Comment

<< Home