Mindful Being

seriously good for you berry and kefir milkshake

What to do when you have bucket loads of goat's kefir (pronounced keefer - think Kiefer Sutherland) sat in your freezer waiting to be consumed?

If you've ever had goat's kefir, the much hailed wonder food, you will know it tastes like milk that's been sat in Caribbean sunshine for about 3 weeks and then maybe the goat has added it's own extra ingredient too whilst you weren't looking. 

I can just about neck a glass neat whilst imitating a champion gurner and that's what I was doing daily when I was working on getting my gut back in to good health following a spree of unwelcome antibiotics last year. The antibiotics also left me the gift of rosacea - thank you very much!

Goat's kefir is one of the most potent probiotics in the universe and can help repopulate your gut with all the good stuff it needs to keep your immune system strong. And goats milk is much easier to digest than cow juice. All round good for you. Forward thinking dermatologists highly recommend it for keeping your skin glowing. And I certainly felt it made a significant impact towards clearing rosacea.

After my Dad was rattling from a plethora of antibiotics following his stroke I ordered him two courses of Goat's kefir. We needed to get Dad's gut back in to good health and rebuild his immunity. Except Dad hated the kefir, even blended with berries or bananas - he point blank refused to drink it. My Mum packed 12 pints of it in a dusty old carrier bag and sent me off home with it all.

I must confess, I didn't want to drink any more of it either, not neat anyway.

So here's my take on a kefir milkshake, totally palatable, even tasty, jam packed full of goodness and right now after drinking it I almost feel I am wearing a nun's habit, it's that virtuous. Do your body a seriously good favour and make this.

Seriously good for you berry and kefir milkshake

1/3 pint goat's kefir

handful of berries (I use raspberries and blueberries)

1/2 banana

2 tablespoons of drinking oats (try Rude Health drinking oats)

Splash of maple syrup or other natural sweetener (not honey though as it meddles with the probiotics)

Stick it all in a blender, whizz it up and enjoy!

Any variations? Let us know below!

this feather...

...mysteriously appeared right outside my front door today. 

I'd just returned home this morning, in a craggy mood in the anticipation of a potentially difficult call I had to make, opened my front door - there was nothing there on the dark concrete floor below. I turned to do something else, turned back and this feather was just there, across my threshold as if carefully placed. About 7 inches long, perfectly formed, silvery grey and off white. No sign of a bird.

Now to clarify, I am definitely not one of those people who sees a white feather and thinks, oh it's a message from the angels. I'm more inclined to think it's a feathery offering from a bird midflight (thank you birdy) or a fox who's caught a bird and spat out the leftovers. Sorry, not very mystical of me.

This feather stopped me midflow and suddenly. Yes, it could have fallen right at that moment from a pigeon up above. Yet it's careful positioning saying 'no way are you not going to notice me' befuddled me in that very moment, creating a gentle sense of wonder within.

My paternal Grandma immediately came in to my mind and I flooded with a sense of calm. Was this a message from Grandma, who I met only once in India when I was 6 years old?  My legendry Grandma who died at 98 years old whilst washing her face...or was it whilst reading her Sikh scriptures? Or in her sleep? The same Grandma who came to visit me the night before Diwali? When I told Dad the day after Diwali that Grandma had visited me, he just nodded and said, yes she does visit you. And we carried on as normal.

I do believe in magic. I do believe this feather was a message from Grandma reassuring me that everything is going to be okay with Dad.

I made that phone call with feather in hand and deep breaths. A call to ask the NHS folk to bring Dad home urgently. He needs to be home and we want him home.  No more delays. Enough.  It went effortlessly.

And 4 hours later I got a call back. Dad is coming home this week.

Thank you Grandma.

the secret wisdom of Big Pants

Yep, you really did read that title. And that really is a photo of my pants. I am celebrating the fact that this morning I actually have the time to shove my undies in the washing machine and in a glorious 29 minutes I will have the time to peg them out publicly, one by one on my washing line.

I'm not an exhibitionist nor do I posses a fetish for hanging my pants on a washing line (and to be honest, when I say publicly - it's really my little back garden) but this is a moment to R E L I S H.

This week life has been hurtling along at such a frenetic pace that's beyond my control that when I woke up yesterday, I had no clean every day pants to slip on. You know, those every day BIG Pants. Big cotton comfies, especially necessary if you are on any kind of personal firefighting mission and need to move quickly. No digging or jigging or adjusting required. They just happily hug your arse all day. That last sentence is me going a bit Yorkshire on you all.  And I have a lot of pairs of pants.

Now please don't let your imagination digress to 'well where were all those pants piling up?' although I have just put that question in your mind. All you need to know right now is that they're in the washer. And let's be honest, unless you're super organised we've all had 'I've no clean pants days!' So there I was, in a hurry, looking for pants. Let me just say, what I ended up wearing instead felt like a day long surgical procedure.

Today, washing pants will be my metaphor for taking tiny slow pockets of breathing space in what is likely to be another hectic day. Of taking micro bites of joy out of the moments in between.

I'm a huge advocate for slowing down, it just makes life so much easier, comfortable, joyful. Like Big Pants. Sometimes life does not give us that choice, we have to move at the speed of a herd of angry rhinos and do what needs to be done. Now.

But referring to the secret wisdom of Big Pants we can navigate the rhino herd with our sanity and our nether regions, errrr herrrm, in tact.

Namaste good souls and remember, wash your pants. xox

If you have a Big Pants story, I'd love to hear it below!