How Time Goes Faster As You Get Older.blog

Eli found a fabulous threads x 2 exhibition and as I had to return to Israel via London from Tokyo (and via Addis Ababa and Larnaca!) I could see this wonderful duo of exhibitions with her.

Chiharu Shiota: Threads of Life

Yin Xiuzhen: Heart to Heart

New York, Hamburg, Melbourne, London, Brussels, Seoul, Shenzhen and Dunhuang

We almost weren’t going to go there. We were on our way to somewhere else but it seemed popular and huge and fascinating. It was and we were there for hours. Superb.

What a smashing museum. All sorts of art. Including a swimming pool you can look at up from above and enter from below.

One evening, when Carly’s neighbours, Noa and Pini, were over, they noticed there were seven Barbies in lilac outfits that were peeping over the top of the TV. Noa told Carly that her collection of Barbies displayed in this way was kinky, and they both laughed. In fact, she did go on quite a bit about it, and Pini privately reprimanded Noa for embarrassing Carly. Far from being embarrassed, Carly had delighted in Noa’s judgement, and both felt relieved. But this did give Carly an idea. It stemmed from the photographic project she did of Carlos who is an embroidered pink toy dog. Maybe she needs to take these seven Barbies around Jaffa and take a series of fun photographs to create an album? Carly has a new obsession. Oh but don’t worry about Carlos missing out. He has already been photographed all around Padua, Limoges and Oslo.

Carly had bought the fake Barbies in Highbury, North London for extra decoration when she had an open house to display her sabbatical purple, prime number and spiral makes. She had her doors open for four days, from dawn to dusk, and welcomed over 150 guests. They were all allowed to choose a piece and take it home after the end of the show. Carly had festooned purple bunting outside between street lamp posts and her railings whilst tying up 13 purple helium balloons by her front door. She offered purple sweets and drinks, music, and in return, visitors needed to fill in wise and kind (compulsory!) words in a book. The pandemic had delayed this exhibition and Carly, who needed to carry on with her creative journey, made even more things. This helped her reconcile her very angry feelings towards lockdown.

Besides the bunting, she made hanging room dividers, dyed a hammock and made a macrame holder for her favourite tradescantia plant. This had very long hanging strands. What better or kinkier than hanging seven Barbies by their legs under this plant? It certainly provided humour as well as derision. 

The Barbies arrived in the shipment to Jaffa, but Carly wasn’t initially sure what to do with them, so she placed them behind the TV. But now she has an idea. Like a crazy woman she raced around Jaffa photographing them in all sorts of places. In coffee shops, in plant pots and in the pet shop, balancing on cat collars there. She took close up shots and from a distance. Always all seven together. Then Tova had an idea. “Let’s put them underneath an oncoming train”, she suggested. For sure, no one would get hurt as the train would easily clear them. But, wisely, Tova went to speak to the driver so he wouldn’t worry. 

Carly thought this had been a splendid project, but it was a one-off. But no! Once Carly is on a mission, she finds it hard to put on the brakes. She saw a Barbie in a lilac furry coat whilst travelling to see her son Tobes for a short break in Thessaloniki. He was very unenthused about Carly insisting on bringing ‘Furry-Coat Barbie’ on all their outings and adventures. As it happened, they did quite a lot of different things, so he was saved from his weird and embarrassing mother. Carly’s favourite place to take Furry-Coat Barbie was the Museum of Deception and Illusion. There she needed to persuade the staff to take photos of them together in all manner of poses. She did manage to take one photo of this Barbie with Tobes when they were having cocktails on a pirate ship. The next day, all three went to the beach. Joy of joys. Carly found a ‘Mermaid Barbie’ to buy for her next holiday.

Carly went, as usual, to Lemnaradis for her biannual yoga and writing retreat but this time took Mermaid Barbie. She was photographed by the sea, sunsets and in a variety of kitchen equipment. Carly managed to persuade both deer and peacocks on Moni Island to be in her photographs with Mermaid Barbie.

Carly was now on a roll and actively looking for Barbies. But that is when you are least likely to find them, so you just have to think right outside of the box. On her way down to a family weekend away in Sandbanks, she found a sweet dispenser she named ‘Pez Barbie’. “She’s really called ‘Princess Peach’”, her niece, Braiens, told her. She had no idea trainee lawyers would know such things. “Well, I never”, Carly snickered to herself. This Pez Barbie found herself buried in sand, seaweed and drowned in glasses and vases of water. Not so good for anyone who wanted to flick back her neck to reveal some soggy sweets! On the last day, she and Braiens went on the bus and chain-link ferry to Studland Bay. The tattooed driver was happy to get involved in Carly’s photography antics. As was Braiens’ brother. Not so Carly’s own children. 

Later that summer, Carly was returning from seeing Sandra in Berwick-upon-Tweed and stopped to meet an old colleague in York on the way. They went to eat in a historic house with a rather wonderful shop. Carly found six ‘Drinks-Markers Barbies’ called Sassy, Kellee, Chrystal, Candice, Ginger and Lacey. They were only 4 cm in height, had enormous breasts and had their names emblazoned on their bikini bottoms. Carly decided they would be a good addition to the Barbie retinue. And they were all photographed in hospital between seeing patients. Carly got rather carried away and put them in, under and on medical equipment such as vomit bowls, bladder syringes and specula. She also pierced them with cannulas and lumbar puncture needles as well as sewing them into blue medical masks. Her friends Noumi and Sol didn’t have a very clear number sign for their house. So, Carly bought a square box frame, painted a huge number, 14 and speared all the Drinks-Master Barbies with a huge spinal needle and placed them all in the corner at the bottom. She’s sure they can cope as they are both medics. 

In India, Carly bought some bindi spots and placed one on a Barbie there. She took ‘Bindi Barbie’ (after checking with Noumi who is Hindu that it wasn’t too politically incorrect) all around Pushkar. Everyone she asked was delighted to be photographed with her. The cows too, but they didn’t give informed consent! Whilst there she bought an outfit that Shiva (a Hindu god) would wear. Back in Israel, ‘Shiva Barbie’ hurtled around Ra’anana, having photos taken with her stuck in flowers and plants, on playground equipment and on people’s garden gates unbeknownst to them!

By now, Carly had amassed quite a collection of Barbies and was beginning to feel overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of them. Her friend, Sarabeth, was throwing out two rather nice wooden trays. Debby, another friend, suggested she take them and start making some Barbie installations. So, another craze began. Carly managed to fix the seven original Barbies on the two trays. Some were attached using plastic hooks around their necks and others were laying down. One of them ended up being squeezed into a defunct clock. She really did look creepy. But “This is all in the name of art”, Carly told herself.

Outside her apartment, Carly found some discarded, slightly damaged large canvases. Being resourceful and trying to keep a sort of eye on her expenses, Carly quickly brought them inside. She easily repaired them and painted the largest one a luscious Barbie pink. Now for a community project. Every time some came round, they had to choose one of 15 Barbies, decide her pose and position her on the canvas. Then Carly would sew her in with waxed thread. Everyone loved doing this. Apart from one person who sneered and declined. However, by taking the canvas on and off the wall, 15 times meant the wall hook loosened. Crash and down the canvas and all the Barbies fell. This meant the waxed thread ripped through the canvas and they were now all rather wobbly. But luckily, as Carly was able to avert disaster by inserting small blocks of wood, it lived to tell another tale. 

Jesus and Christina came round one afternoon. They were upfront and honest about the gift they had brought. It had been passed on several times. It was an amazing box that contained unbelievably sweet treats from Algeria. They sample them all but, in the end, most went out on the street. However, the box was beyond sumptuous with a cork backing. Carly imprisoned four small Barbies with drawing pins and sock yarn. There was then a debate. “Why don’t you call it ‘Trafficked-Barbies’, Carly,” Yasmeen suggested. But Jesus countered that it narrowed down the viewer’s interpretation. Carly is in a quandary. She, not only, wants to please her friends, but hates it when artists are too lazy to give their piece a title and call it ‘untitled’. She isn’t sure where to go. For the moment, she will leave it as ‘Imprisoned Barbies’. And how much do people want to be told what is in front of them and how much they should infer for themselves? Oh, these existential questions that should bother Carly. “Nah”, she says, “Not that much of the time!”

One evening, Carly went to a painting event. They were all to do their own version of Yayoi Kusama’s ‘Hummingbird with a red flower’. Carly feels her one could benefit from a bit of ‘Barbiefying’. So, she adds yellow feathers to the bird, some jewels for his eyes and enhances his beak by adding a long, black, shiny hair clip. By this stage she can only use a pair of Barbie shoes as the dolls have all been spoken for. She glues them in the centre of the canvas. She calls this piece ‘Barbie escapes from the beak of a hummingbird by a hare’s breath’. So much for leaving the viewer free-range to interpret her art in a way that is meaningful for them!

She was saved from her dearth of Barbies by her friend, Jen, who sourced a load more Barbies for free. Oh no. What direction now for Carly? She has made clothes for three Barbies to represent each of the monotheistic religions. She started with Nun Barbie, moved onto Frummer (orthodox Jewish) Barbie and finished with Palestinian Muslim Barbie complete with a hand knitted cardigan and delicately embroidered clothes. Then she moved onto ‘Disco Barbie’ who dances herself silly with 13 silver balls. This was followed by some Rainbow Barbies who were attached to a stiff card with multicoloured glitter glue from a gun and then placed top to toe inside an old wooden tea caddy. And a Barbie who was punch-needled onto a canvas using black yarn to encase her in a ‘multicoloured dream coat’ made from rainbow dyed unspun fleece.

One of her final (well probably not really final!) pieces is possibly Carly’s favourite. Barbie is wearing a short T-shirt dress with ‘Femme and Fierce’ emblazoned on the front. However she is skiing, so Carly knitted her a headband, arm and leg muff to keep her warm. She is on a rainbow slalom run marked behind her with upright tubes of beads placed in a rainbow colour sequence and in front of her with a rainbow ribbon. Instead of skis she has whisks which are drawn by two small pink horses. This piece has a rigid title made with Carly’s trusty labelling machine. ‘Barbie attempts horse-led, kitchen rainbow slalom’. Carly feels, however well she explains this piece, maybe it just needs to be seen…

She is planning to have an exhibition. And she’d like to sell her work. And, of course, she has other ideas too. She’d like to crochet a purple outfit for Ken and a ball dress for Barbie. These will be extended to become their coffins to envelope them. And maybe she could make a retinue of Barbie Teletubbies. BarbiePo, BarbieWinky, BarbieLaa, and BarbieDipsy. The possibilities are endless…

Barbie attempts horse-led, kitchen rainbow slalom

Carly had never had any intention of going to Aegina, Greece. Not even once, let alone twice. Over the years she had seen all the fancy cars coming onto the ferry that was returning her from her marvellous writing and yoga trips in Lemnaradis to the Athens port Piraeus. And on Sunday afternoons there were so many wealthy Athenians returning from their expensive villas, that the ferry ended up stopping for almost an hour to load up all their vehicles. And then she was tight on time and had to get a taxi to the airport rather than using cheaper public transport. She did quite enjoy the spectacle of watching all these cars and some coaches reverse onto the ferry but then she became increasingly anxious as it was really taking an age. She was sure she could rush down there and take over the task of loading up the vehicles in half the time. Never mind she spoke no Greek, and her spatial awareness isn’t up to much. She still believed she would be better than those currently undertaking this activity at, what she felt, was a snail’s pace. Therefore, by association she didn’t like Aegina. But note to self. Just don’t return on a Sunday afternoon in future. 

But she did end up going there. And, of course, she rather liked it. She went once out of necessity and on a second occasion as a trip down memory lane. Every six months for five years, Carly went on a yoga and a partially silent writing retreat. And on her penultimate trip there she was destined to fly out of Athens on 8^th October 2023 on a cheapy airline. But the war had started against Israel the day before, so all flights were suspended apart from El Al (the national carrier) and she was stuck. It is always an interesting situation to have your holiday unexpectedly extended. Carly believes vacations are best planned for the length that suits the individual. Even more so in Lemnaradis as you can choose to go for a few days or several weeks. And Carly always chose one week which is the perfect amount of time to write six stories. Just like this one. And the extra days are for arriving and departing and just plain old thinking. So, Carly really was keen to get back to Israel. But she was stranded. For several days. She received so many messages of condolences about the situation. As well as most of her family, friends and colleagues both in the UK and Israel really trying hard to persuade her to give up on this ridiculous midlife crisis notion of emigrating to what was now a war zone and move back to the UK. She had been an Israeli citizen for only a few weeks. But she remained committed and keen to return to Jaffa, Israel. 

She, by chance, had a hotel room booked for the day in Piraeus, but this really wasn’t a scintillating destination for a few days until El Al could take her home later that week. She spoke to her son Haz and his lovely wife. They were really good at finding solutions. And Hotel Angela in Agia Marina, Aegina seemed to fit the bill. It was inexpensive, as it was off season, offered breakfast within the room rate and had excellent reviews. And there were so many boats to get over there from Piraeus. About 15 each way, every day. Despondent as Carly was, off she went on the boat back to Aegina. What a lovely island. And what a magic gem of a hotel. It was run by a woman and her mother. The owner had one daughter of eight who loved drawing and had a kitten called Blackie. This was a big draw for Carly who giggled about the name of the cat. You could hardly call any animal in the ‘woke’ UK that name nowadays. 

 Carly decides to explore Aegina with a positive mindset. She can do some editing of her Dr Carly videos for her YouTube channel as a break from enjoying this gorgeous island. Her main aim with these videos is to move them from one channel she has, to another. She watches several different videos on how to do this. There are so many helpful people out there making instructional videos on just about anything. It means that you no longer need to keep manuals for any gadgets. You just hop onto YouTube and put it in the search. How to fill up helium balloons. How to open the hood for your car engine. How to cast-on in the round with knitting needles. It is marvellous. Nowadays, companies are onto this and make bespoke versions for all their customers. But try as hard as she could, she was unable to transfer these videos across. She even asks more tech savvy people later and they cannot do it either. In the end, she leaves it for when she returns to Aegina seven months later. By then, the tech felt less scary and, as often the way when things are less urgent, it all works easily. 

To get around Aegina, Carly decides she is going to rent a 50cc scooter for a couple of days. On one of her last family holidays to Mykonos before getting divorced, they tried to do this too. That was five years ago. And the men who lent out the scooters decided neither Carly nor Ades had it in them to scoot about their island. They were deemed incompetent. But Carly wasn’t going to be defeated again. Aegina was less hilly, and she could practise around Agia Marina which was fairly flat. The main issue for Carly is getting the bike back onto its stand. This is about technique and not brute force. She had a good teacher and mastered this. She also learnt how to kick start the engine should the starter motor fail. Which it did quite often. My goodness. Carly just loved travelling around on a scooter. There was such a feeling of thrill with the wind and exploring places that would be tricky on a bus. And way cheaper than taxis. She went to monasteries, churches, shops, remote coasts and had meals in out of the way places. It was a total joy. She could see the attraction of motorbikes. On this small, rather deserted island, riding one felt relatively safe. She got up early and scootered off to see sunrises and returned to base at the approach of darkness. And then Carly remembered a similar experience. When she was in Goa, her son hired a scooter and Carly was on the back. But occasionally he let her drive and was a good teacher. When Boo came to Goa, Carly decided to share a scooter with her. But Boo was a bit unpredictable. As were the men around her. It is fun travelling with grey hair in your 50s. Not so for blond 18-year-old girls. And certainly not on the back of a motorbike with them…

Back to Aegina. Carly is surrounded by all things pistachio. One of her favourite nuts. She buys a bottle of liqueur which is lovely to drink on her balcony with ice. She samples each of the five different pistachio ice-creams. And brings back a jar of pistachio butter. Carly must have ‘pistachio-nutter’ applied as a label to her forehead that is only seen by Greek salesmen.

Carly also finds a few art galleries. She goes into one that is run by a fabulous woman, Previnia, from France. Immediately they hit it off. Previnia has some beautiful gems from her father and Carly buys one of every purple hue. She will add them to her collection. Previnia has recently completed a number of oil paintings of women in local Greek traditional dress. The women she painted were from her own family in France and Carly likes this unusual juxtaposition. She buys a set of large postcards to keep and explain this idea to others. Previnia then has fabric produced based on these designs and makes them up as cushion covers and other items for sale in the shop. “A great marketing idea”, thinks Carly. They get together another evening to have pistachio liqueur. Both for fun and as Carly only has hand luggage, she needed to finish this rather large bottle! 

But chatting with women from completely different and alternative backgrounds is magical for Carly. Despite being in Aegina for rather negative reasons, Carly had a very wholesome and wonderful experience there. And this is particularly so, once she had met the fabulous Previnia.  And for this reason, when she returned to Lemnaradis the following spring, she thought she would trip down memory lane and return to the same hotel, in the same town on the same island after her yoga and writing retreat. She took out a scooter again and went off to Moni Island. This special place is overrun with peacocks and deer. It has an odd juxtaposition between some beautiful beaches, windswept fir trees with wildlife dancing amongst them and a load of burnt tourists on sunbeds around an English pub.But the previous time she went to Aegina it was off season and slowing down for the winter. This time it was high season and kicking off for the summer. It seemed everyone was either in couples or with friends. Carly felt truly lonely. She contacted Previnia who had no time to see her and had probably forgotten who she was. Poor Carly. She is not good at feeling lonely. Yes, she is happy to be alone and manage solitude and its multifarious benefits but not for a long time. But she cannot manage being lonely. And, also, she thinks she isn’t very forgettable. But clearly, she was to Previnia. “Hey ho”, Carly deliberates sadly. No more going back to romantic resorts alone with notions of faux friendships.

Carly has always made a lot of effort with neighbours. Well, she has tried to over the years. When she was a student living in Hackney, May and Flo, two sisters-in-law lived next door. They grew bronze-coloured chrysanthemums and said “Shame, shame” a lot to Carly. When she was living in her first property, she became friendly with a woman who lived next door and was then her doula for her two home births. In the house she lived for 20 years she was at war with one neighbour – a grumpy old couple. They had two cars but only he drove. This was so when they did venture out in one of their cars, they could move the other car a few feet and ‘sterilise’ the space so they could always park their two cars outside their house. 

But the neighbours on the other side more than made up for it. They were so friendly that they had a door made in the fence so the kids could easily go between the two houses. And then on the other side of these neighbours was another family with kids. But to enter their garden, they had to clamber over the intervening wall. But kids love this sort of thing, so it didn’t stop them hoping over anyway. Carly’s neighbour had a trampoline whilst Carly had an impressive climbing frame and swing set. They even had a zip wire which was tremendous fun until the miserable neighbours found some loophole and made them take it down. Such killjoys. 

After Carly had returned from her sabbatical in India, newly divorced, she lived in an Airbnb during the first part of lockdown in Turnpike Lane, London. The neighbours there had a super-cute white kitten. But this was a short six-week stay. Next up was the house in Horsell Road, Highbury, London. It was really near the Arsenal stadium and once the games resumed after lockdown, her road would be lined by swathes of fans in red marching down her road to and from the game. She could hear it so clearly when someone scored a goal. She had two neighbourly friends there, one of whom was Bessie, whom she met when passing her garden and commenting on her flowers. She lived seven doors away. Bessie, an artist, had a long-term partner Reginald and they had some unusual ideas about food and radio waves in the environment. They only bought food from a very limited number of producers, but Carly had several meals there, accompanied on two occasions by her younger two children, Tobes and Boo. Certainly, the conversation was fascinating. And Bessie was able to look after Carly at the actual time her ex-husband got remarried on the 4^th September 2022. Carly is forever grateful to her. 

Then Carly moved to Walthamstow, aka ‘The Stow’. She was only there for 13 months but met so many friends and neighbours. It was a really delightful time in her life. She didn’t like the Victoria line but discovered the joys of the overground and using innumerable buses. And she made the most of her time by preparing for her move to Israel with her dog Talulah by being organised and disciplined. And Talulah turned from a puppy into an excellent dog who was happy to go on all these aforementioned forms of transport. And up and down escalators. 

And off she goes to live in Israel. Talulah in the hold. Carly with all the other passengers. And it all works out. She arrives at her flat a few days later once her shipment paperwork has been cleared at the docks. She has a full container coming with 104 boxes. Six burly Ukrainians come to her place and moan about the narrow state of her road. She is a bit bemused as she gave the haulage company a heads up many months ago. And there are two entrances, but they calm down and dump the said boxes mostly in the right areas of her apartment. She is rather miserable and overwhelmed. The place smells damp. It is really dark. There is no cold water or gas and of course no Wi-Fi yet. But this will be rectified. These men make up her bed and dining room table and off they go. Carly feels exhausted and she hasn’t even started to unpack. 

But she decides it is best to go out and discover a bit about the neighbourhood. And not remain depressed in her flat. She needs to sort out a vet for Talulah. But always a coffee first. And there she calms down from the morning’s antics with all the boxes and the men who were nasty and mean and complained about their tip. As she sips her wonderful coffee, she asks about local vets. So off they go. Carly and Talulah. In search of a vet. She needs Talulah to be registered and to show all her vaccine certificates and health checks. She wanders around and eventually finds the vet. They speak English and are very welcoming. In fact, the veterinary assistant, Yala, gets up from desk, walks around it, gets down onto her knees on the floor and then rolls around with Talulah. Carly just cannot believe this country. So many extremes. Carly was miserable in the morning and elated in the afternoon. But it is time to return to said dark and damp apartment. This was probably because it has been vacant for a few months, Carly tries to console herself. Whilst she is emptying the boxes she leaves open her front door and as everyone goes past to enter the lift, she can jump out and say a friendly “Hello”. And Talulah can rush out, wag her tail, and add to the mayhem.

She is not yet friendly with all of them but she is making a concerted effort to do so.

Roy is with Eden, and they have a toddler Itamar. Roy came to Carly’s rescue on the first day and shared the entrance code. Repeatedly, as Carly seemed to have a block with this code. Roy has a motor bike and sometimes her cat Bobbin sits on it. Which isn’t good, as Roy is allergic to cats. But Roy is just far too nice to say anything. She has a fun, secret game with Itamar, which suits them both. She buys small toys and hides them around the hallway. It can be cars or animals or small rubbers. And she hides them all over the show and Itamar has to find them and point them out to one of his parents. Sometimes when he is feeling brave he may re-hide them.

Noa, Pini and their rascal son Raphael live next door. They have keys which is important as Carly was forever going out without hers! And they often feed her cats. Carly has been in their mamad (safe room) during a siren, but Raphael just much prefers to come into Carly’s apartment. He can run up and down the corridor inside her flat whilst being chased by Talulah and everyone is laughing. At any opportunity, if Carly’s door is open, Raphael rushes in. This is much more fun recently since he has learnt to run. Carly made Raphael a Chanukah present last year from fabric she was given from an elderly holocaust survivor who loved textiles. She made him a book with animals and the names written in puff paint. It was his first English cloth-book.

Eran and Dana. They petitioned Carly when she arrived to seldom use her garage door as her previous tenants did, as it is so noisy. She agreed and only uses it rarely – mostly for parties to provide a direct entrance to the attendees into her garden. Eran runs a bar and comes home late, and Dana is a pianist, and Carly adores hearing her practicing and giving lessons.

Ada is a lovely and friendly neighbour. She has an old dog Max and gives Carly an unused curtain with green embroidered bugs on it which Carly has transformed into a challah cover and six napkins.

Yotam and Noa are another couple who spend half the year running their Airbnb business in Costa Rica. Yotam is so very helpful and kind. And Noa crochets, like Carly; so all good.

Eitan is head of the building committee and writes notes quite a lot. And prints them out and puts them on the central door. Probably because he is not on WhatsApp. He, however, does love her cats. There are some other couples in the building who don’t. But they do have a point muses Carly. Her cats would often poop in one of the huge communal plant pots. Even when Eitan put in loads of wooden skewers. The cats would gently and carefully move the sharp sticks apart and still do their business. For an additional flourish, they would ensure that a load of earth was flicked onto the ground too, just so that everyone knew. Carly ended up buying large black river stones which solved the problem. She turned it into a communal event and she was ably assisted by Itamar and Raphael. This is not child labour. They loved it and anyway it was mostly the adults who did the work. And guess what? No more communal cat poop…

Carly has felt so warmly supported, even loved, by all the neighbours she has met. She experiences all the effort she has put into garner friendships and being neighbourly has paid off. She feels satisfied. But hopefully not smug. She cannot abide that!

Carly often thinks she isn’t good at doing charitable work. She thinks that as a healthcare professional you feel like you do this all the time with your patients. But let’s be honest, you do get paid to do this. So, it isn’t really benevolent, but it does make you, as the ‘volunteer’, feel good about yourself. Carly looks back on her long and varied career. She is glad she became a doctor. It afforded her a huge amount of variety and, in some instances, creativity. But this story isn’t going to be her work curriculum vitae (CV). No that is done and dusted. Well, pretty much so. Carly has an excellent part-time package to return to the UK from Jaffa to see patients in person for some of the year and get paid for it. So, in Israel, where she moved in September 2023, she has had loads of time on her hands. The bureaucracy at first was a huge and unfortunately necessary time waster. 

But this has passed, and not long after she arrived, the war started. So, Carly really felt the overwhelming societal pull to volunteer. She thinks that she either isn’t good at it or dislikes it. She wonders a great deal who actually benefits from all this relentless volunteering. At the Whittington Hospital, where she works in London, she sees some very noble volunteers in tabards trying to direct patients and relatives where they need to go. However, she has worked there for over two decades and helps inordinate numbers of lost people. She actually goes up and asks them if they are lost. They often are and she can help redirect them to the right place. It is astonishing in this day and age that no one takes signage that seriously and these punters are often already worried and anxious to be in a hospital. But Carly puts on her friendly face and tries to help those looking shell-shocked and overwhelmed. 

And anyway, Carly does have a track record of volunteering. She ran a local playgroup for years. When that finished, she planned to be a scout leader. But that was full of weird older men wanting to wear a military style uniform and spend their free time shouting at kids. No thank you very much. She had enough exposure to other people’s kids at work and didn’t want to start bellowing any more than she did already. 

Carly then went on to volunteer on the Chevra Kadisha as someone who helped prepare bodies for burial according to Jewish tradition. She felt she could be good at this. There was something not only very satisfying, but also calming in the procedures followed. And it didn’t matter if you were young or old, rich or poor, you all ended up with the same shroud garments before being gently placed in a coffin. Carly worked there for many years on a Sunday morning. She found it cathartic and enveloping. The cemetery had expanded, and the new area for the Chevra Kadisha was surprisingly poorly designed. This coincided with Carly’s divorce. She felt she no longer needed to cover her head. But she was told she did as that is the rule. Anyway, she had done it for long enough and so she quietly, yes even Carly can do that on occasion, left. 

Carly then had a bit of a volunteering nadir. Most of the time was taken up with Covid and then preparing for her move to Israel so she let that one go, without too much self-flagellation. This is in the metaphysical sense. Carly wasn’t a fan of the whip. Even when horse riding, she would rarely take a whip and if she did have a truculent mare or gelding, she could break off a branch to use instead, more as a threat than to inflict pain. She muses on the word ‘gelding’. This is a neutered male. She would like to have ridden a stallion but let’s be honest here. Carly can stay on a horse walking, trotting, cantering and even galloping. But she cannot control a headstrong stallion who might rear-up at any moment. We digress. Back to volunteering. Carly thought you could be a better mother, daughter, sister, doctor, and friend and that should be counted towards or instead of your charitable giving but really, she wasn’t able to think of something useful to do. So, she just carried on working and doing her stuff. 

Once Carly could find no more excuses, she submits to social pressure and agrees to volunteer. She prefers to offer her time randomly and not for too many hours. Also, she needs to be able to communicate in English. Despite her commitment to living in Israel, learning the language seems to be a non-starter for Carly. There are many ways to learn Hebrew. She could do an online course. But she would just spend her time fiddling about on her phone and not really concentrating. She did start an in-person Ulpan. This is the recognised way for new immigrants to learn to speak Hebrew. She signed up for a 10-week course. It was three mornings a week for four hours each time. It was in a classroom setting. Carly was by far and away the oldest. She just couldn’t sit still. Her classmates were all between a third and half of her age. She wriggled around on the hard school seat and did, sort of, try. 

In her family they have a rule that you need to try at least two sessions before agreeing to continue. She did this and said firmly, “No, get me out of here!” Then she tried private lessons with a lovely teacher in his home. She spent a lot of time not doing her homework, playing with his beautiful cats and avoiding doing much speaking at all. She lasted for a total of seven lessons. And then she remembered. When she was 18, Carly came on her gap year between school and university to Israel. She did a three-month army course. She felt standing there with someone pointing an M16 gun at her, she would learn Hebrew fast. But she didn’t. Yes, she was super fit by the end and could do 50 press-ups and 100 sit-ups. But still couldn’t communicate. She was good with nouns and appalling at declining verbs. Well, anything to do with verbs. It was hardly surprising she couldn’t learn the language 40 years on. 

But there is lots of volunteering where no communication is involved. Like food preparation or fruit picking. She started off in a cafe to make food for evacuees and soldiers. She spent hours cutting up frozen chicken into thin slices for schnitzel. Many of the volunteers seemed a bit clumsy and would often drop bits of chicken on the floor. Washing it wasn’t deemed hygienic enough, so she persuaded the leaders to let her have these rejected pieces for her dog. She had a huge amount to take home at the end of the shift. She washed the chicken and cooked it in a multitude of ways for herself. Talulah, her dog, had a bit but mostly it was for Carly. At the food prep place, if Carly was well-behaved, she could progress onto putting food into containers. Funny how there was even a hierarchy here. Much like at work. 

Working in agriculture was incredibly hard. A strain on your back and you were expected to do it for hours. Carly couldn’t last in Ulpan for hours and certainly not in the fields. She often managed to borrow a car and take friends and Talulah with. She picked a lot of citrus fruits this way for a few hours and then it was off for a fancy lunch nearby. There were often young people from America on volunteer programmes. They loved throwing oranges for Talulah to catch and return to them. Win win. Once when Carly was up a ladder with her sacks stuffed to the brim with lemons, she felt the ladder start to sway to one side. She really wanted to manage alone. So, she held onto a branch and used her legs to right the ladder. Phew. No embarrassing moments! She was with a load of Mexicans and her Spanish is about as bad as her Hebrew. 

She once went to a teaching hospital south of Tel Aviv. She enjoyed the session but was never asked back. Carly says to herself “That speaks volumes”. She also did some silk painting with children who were evacuated from their homes. But they just didn’t have the patience for this. 

Her favourite volunteering was with goats. Normally on Christmas day, Carly works in the hospital. She loves the camaraderie, and she doesn’t celebrate this festival. But in Israel, her friend Linda found out about goat herding. Goats can only eat whilst walking and need herders to keep them out of danger. So, they set off to get to the farm at 7am. They took 600 heavily pregnant goats for their daily walk over and then along a pretty well used highway. Lots of trucks and speedy cars. It was quite an effort to get these obviously very ‘herdy’ animals to go to where they were supposed to be. One goat would say. “Hey, fellow sisters, let’s see if there is some yummy grass over there”. Which might mean stumbling back onto the road. One brave goat followed by 599 of her best girlfriends. But they were pretty easy to redirect. Linda and Carly were whacked out at the end of this 4-hour walk. But they now have a new ritual for Xmas day they say to themselves. 

They decided to return the following month but on arrival the family seemed displeased to see them. The goats had given birth and were too busy getting milked and feeding their kids to be going on walks foraging for food. So, Linda and Carly instead bottle-fed the straggler kids who were too low down in the hierarchy to do it for themselves. It seems that not all kids are fed by their mothers. And when you have 600 to choose from you can see it can be tricky to choose the right mother… 

Luckily, Carly had and breastfed her children whilst living in a single-family dwelling rather than a commune. Carly chuckles at the thought of this intimate feeding being a free-for-all.

As is usual, Carly is exaggerating. In Jaffa, she has met a few diplomats. For sure more than she ever met in London but still not a load. And although she has met the one from Georgia more than once they are not yet friends. Carly is ever hopeful. And there was only a coffee meet up with the girlfriend from someone in the UK embassy as a one off. And a very fleeting friendship with someone from the American Embassy that Carly tried afterwards to meet up on Thursday evenings when this lovely woman came from Jerusalem to Jaffa. But the war on October 7th, 2023, started and the American woman was beyond busy. Oh, and there was someone that her son knew who worked with him in Erbil, the capital of the Kurdistan protectorate in Iraq. E-Nicola worked for the German Consul there, and she took Carly’s son Tobes under her wing. When Carly met Tobes for a weekend city break in Thessaloniki, she was introduced to E-Nicola and her son. They were a very warm family and invited Carly and Tobes over to watch the Eurovision song contest. Not usually something either Carly or Tobes would watch, but it was a good idea for an inclusive activity during the weekend. 

When they were shown round E-Nicola’s apartment it was full of heavy reproduction furniture and many glass-fronted display cabinets. Tobes totally loved all of them and to Carly’s horror (who was in fact an anti-fan of this type of dark and foreboding furniture), he would love to have this style in his own house one day. There are so many things you learn about people that you just don’t expect, mused Carly. The other thing of note in this flat is that E-Nicola very proudly showed the certificate her grandparents were given from the Athens Holocaust Museum for rescuing a Jewish family during WWII by hiding them. Although Carly felt that Thessaloniki was probably one of the ugliest cities she had ever been to and certainly the most in Greece which she so loves, she had a fabulous time with her son, a Barbie in a furry lilac coat and going to the museum of deception and illusion which was mind blowing for both Carly and Barbie!

Now to get back to the diplomats she knows really well. Christina and Jesus. An interesting set of names for committed Buddhists. And yes, they are both Buddhists but they aren’t both diplomats. Jesus has had a huge number of jobs from working in finance, with dead bodies as a pallbearer and now in wind farms remotely. But Christina does really work for the French Embassy. Carly met Christina with her colleagues at a fancy vegan restaurant when Carly was there with her NOT date Eric. Or maybe Carly was there with her gay friends Lorenz and Marc. She was for sure there with her dog Talulah as that is who Christina recognised straight away. Carly likes this vegan restaurant but sometimes thinks they try a bit hard with the food and it can be rather heavy. Carly doesn’t know anyone who really enjoys cashew cheese. However, Carly does love the 3D printed beef. The texture, taste, smell and presentation look exactly like the real deal. Amazing. Carly is still a committed carnivore.

Carly first met Christina and Jesus with their dog Rover as they were out walking their dogs near Park Midron where Carly goes pretty much every morning. It is a stunningly beautiful park and Talulah and Carly have their rituals. Carly allows Talulah off the lead which isn’t allowed and she has had a few fines. The last time they actually managed to run away but this was after the park warden had read Talulah’s microchip, so the escape was in vain. When Carly met this lovely couple with their dog, Christina had just broken a bone in her foot and was wearing one of those nifty plastic boots. No one seems to have funky coloured plaster-casts on their lower limbs now. Just these boots. Carly presumed that keeping people walking must make bone healing better and faster. Carly is a doctor and should know these things. But she hasn’t kept abreast of the latest orthopaedic developments. Lucky, she does now prescribe the newer medication ‘Movicol’ for children with constipation rather than lactulose. She has moved with the times. But even that is fraught with problems. All this only electronic prescribing is a nightmare. At least lactulose is lactulose on the drug menu but movicol isn’t there. You have to remember these wonder sachets are really called Macrogol 3350. Not a very meaningful name. Movicol says it all. To move along the stool…

Back to Christina and Jesus. Things went well and they all met for drinks at the Jaffa port for sunset with their dogs. And they came to Carly’s parties and brought lovely presents and made a fabulous cocktail for the partygoers. They went to each other for dinners and then came the games. It seemed Jesus loved games whilst Christina did not. And Carly was ambivalent but why not on limited occasions? She had brought some board games with her to Israel. But her diplomatic friends hadn’t bought any. First, they played ‘Touring England’. A rather dull game with little skill and a lot of luck. You each pick eight random towns around England and work out the best route to join them. That is the skilled part. The rest is down to the number on the dice. Next up they played ‘Rummikub’. This is a version of the famous card game with 4 different coloured pieces, jokers and numbers one to 13. And Carly, despite having played several times before, still came last. Their plans for the future are to play Monopoly. Jesus had never heard of the game. Christina and Carly were appalled. Carly had a set from her school that they had made on a special anniversary. No well-known names of streets like Knightsbridge and Pall Mall (London game version) or Times Square or Central Park (New York version). Just different areas of the school, the headmistress’ office, the games field and possibly the sheds where naughty girls went to smoke! Jesus wouldn’t be any the wiser. Then Carly remembers way back to her previous girls’ school, where she was caned by Miss Mackie, the headmistress, for some misdemeanour. It was humiliating rather than painful. It’s a shame she cannot remember the reason for the said transgression. Anyway, no more beatings in schools nowadays…

There was one day when Carly needed dog-sitting for Talulah. She knew that Rover got on with her, but Jesus and Christina were new to dog owning. But Carly thought it was worth an ask. They agreed. It was only for one night. And it was a weekend so that meant it was easier for them too. Carly went round with Talulah who was very excited to be with Rover. However, she was even more excited to get her mouth around a soft toy donkey. She had played with it on the previous visit. Rover wasn’t really into soft toys. Not so Talulah. She loved them. But, and this was a big but. Christina knew Talulah loved the donkey but it was a bit ripped, so she had set about mending it. See, says Carly, she is not the only mender in Jaffa. However, the doorbell had wrung, and Christina had forgotten about the donkey in mid repair. And Talulah made a beeline for the donkey and rushed off to play alone with it. The needle was nowhere to be found. It was not on the floor, not in Talulah’s mouth and not sticking out of the semi-repaired donkey. 

But Carly had a plane to catch, so had to leave. She told Christina and Jesus in her experience as a paediatrician of children swallowing sharp objects that they generally passed through them without catastrophe. Then Carly remembers when she had left her cat limping, and the vet had severely reprimanded her. Children and pets are NOT the same. But she had an aeroplane to catch and had to go. Christina decided to dismember the donkey and hey presto the needle was recovered! Everyone was happy and disaster averted. 

Carly has decided that Jesus has some funny ideas. She isn’t sure if he is actually pulling her leg. He refuses to believe that Carly plays netball. He thinks she has made up this game and it is a figment of her over-suggestible imagination. It is true that only people from the former commonwealth play it, but it is a fun game and although Carly has only returned to it after a 40-year break, she does enjoy it. So, Carly sends videos of not only her playing netball but also some on YouTube because that is where the truth is always to be found.

So what about the future? Christina and Jesus have extended their stay till summer 2026. Yippee thinks Carly. She has persuaded her friends to allow her to teach Talulah and Rover how to use doggy buoyancy aids in their small pool. This is something novel to look forward to…

Firstly, Carly needs to explain what these challah covers actually are. As the saying goes, the name itself reveals the purpose. Well, as they say, the name on the tin gives it away. There is no hidden meaning, in fact. They are used to cover the two loaves of challah that are eaten at mealtimes on the sabbath (Shabbat) by Jews. Particularly on Friday night and for Saturday lunch. Challahs are a bit like brioche and often plaited. They are covered with egg to make them nice and shiny and oftentimes, they are decorated with poppy or sesame seeds. In South Africa, there is a tradition to make them with raisins for festivals. And nowadays you can get loaves made with organic dark brown rye flour. But, Carly isn’t enamoured with this type. They are so heavy. Carly feels her stomach falling to the floor just looking at them, let alone eating them. 

Now she is living alone, she is often left with rather a large amount of challah if she has had guests over on Shabbat. Previously, her ravenous children would have gobbled it all up. Along with the dogs and the guests. So, Carly slices it up while it is still fresh and freezes it. Gosh does it toast up well and can even be used for desserts. À la Nadiya Hussein who once won one of Carly’s favourite competition reality TV shows – the Great British Bake Off (known throughout the UK as GBBO). Nadiya now has lots of different series and the one recipe that is most memorable is one with croissants, jam, butter, chocolate drops and ice-cream that you bake. The ice-cream turns into a type of custard. Delicious, if a bit heavy. And Carly will normally switch all the ingredients around. I mean why waste ice-cream when you can whip up some quick custard with some Bird’s powder and a load of milk. And, actually, it requires a lot of patience. No, Carly has none of that. And this explains why her custard is so very lumpy and she always has to sieve it. But it is way cheaper than ice-cream. Although the margin is less of a cost saving when you consider the lumps. And, anyway, now Carly lives in a hot country, so having something frozen for afters is really called for. She wonders if the heat has something to do with not being able to buy fresh custard in Jaffa? Probably there just isn’t enough demand. 

But why do the two challahs need a cover? Carly knows the answer as to why there are two challahs in the first place. When the Israelites left Egypt, after the ten plagues with Moses, Aaron and Miriam, they ate for 40 years in the desert. A portion of ‘manna’ was there every day for sustenance but on Friday there was a double portion to last for all of Shabbat too. She is fairly sure that most people accept this reason. But as for the cover. That answer is a bit more precarious. Carly was told that as the wine is blessed first, the challahs get upset at being second place and so the challah cover is to hide their second-class citizen ranking from them. It seems rather far-fetched to consider that an inanimate object such as bread, however lovingly crafted, would have feelings of jealousy or envy. With the ease of checking things on the internet, Carly has investigated if there are other more seemingly serious reasons for this cover. She finds none, and anyway, the one she knows about seems to be rather charming. So, Carly will stick with that explanation. 

Traditionally challah covers are made from fabric, often embroidered with gold and sometimes a braided edging. Carly finds them, for the most part, dreadfully dull. They are likely to be used for years and so should be a thing of originality and beauty. An art form really. And the fabric should be sumptuous but is often polyester, so it is easy to wash. But that is part of the challah cover’s charm. All the stains tell a story. So now when she donates the challah cover to a lucky recipient, Carly writes a note to NEVER wash them. And this obsession by so many people trying to keep germs at bay. Don’t get Carly started on that one. Germs are good – well up to a point. And certainly, all this endless washing and cleaning really isn’t good for the environment or the gut microbiome. 

Making challah covers does allow Carly’s creative streak to be aired. And it is sewing rather than knitting which makes a nice variation to her default crafting obsession. And the end product is something unique and wholly Jewish that she can give to others. Often as an engagement, wedding, or birthday present. Sometimes just because she wants to. It is always difficult to know how much to involve the recipient. It seems social protocol says that everyone should delight in any and every gift they receive. But Carly knows that there is often no accounting for taste. It reminds her of a mantra of her wonderful paddle-boarding instructor who often says. “The one thing you can say about common sense, is that it is not that common!” So, what Carly considers as the height of good taste may be seen as utterly ghastly by someone who will receive her gift. Thus, Carly has had to come up with a compromise. She tries to involve the recipient in the planning process. Like choosing the fabric, colour, motifs and size. Maybe a beach scene or a favourite city like New York. Carly must be allowed some decision-making and this feels like an excellent and cooperative way forward.

Sometimes she makes challah duvets. Of course, the bread is not about to go to sleep or curl up and read a book under it. Carly merely uses this terminology to explain that this genre of cover is padded and cosy. She made a number with fuchsia pink silk her father bought her in Thailand. The sheen was sumptuous, and the colour changed depending on how you viewed it in the light. This was because the warp (north to south thread) was a slightly different colour to the weft (east to west thread). 

Carly invariably makes four tassels, one for each corner. She has this process down to a fine art and recently; to add interest and noise, she has attached a bell to at least one of the tassels. On the back she sews in a label to let everyone know she made it. However, Carly doesn’t like being seen as a show-off. So, she carefully hides the label under a flap or ribbon to conceal what could be misconstrued as boasting. Recently she replaced the tassels with gender-specific Anime keyrings, one to represent each member of the family of five. She had considered making a pentagon-shaped challah cover to be able to decorate each of the corners with a keyring, but the shape was proving a headache, so used a dreamcatcher motif and there were five feathery hanging components instead. 

Carly usually gives them to individuals, couples, or families. Once she made a bespoke, purple challah cover for the entire Jewish community in Pune, India. They were very grateful, and Carly hopes it will get well used and soon become covered in stains! 

Carly, ever the extrovert, has tried to inveigle her way into leading a session on the power, beauty and provenance of challah covers at Limmud, a Jewish Learning festival, in Jerusalem this year. She has petitioned the organisers to run a challah cover workshop. Most of the sessions are political or text based. Carly’s will have to just be a little bit different. She feels, after some introductory blurb, she will provide attendees with some lovely fabric, and they will have all manner of pens, pencils, paints, stencils, stickers, buttons, and beads to decorate. Carly feels she can awaken their creativity and help them reach their potential. Carly is so excited about this potential opportunity to galvanise others to banish boring challah covers to the scrapheap. So far, however, she’s received no word to say she’s been chosen to run such an event. “What a shame”, thinks Carly.  “They really are missing out…”

Carly went to India for four months for her sabbatical. This was to allow her to immerse herself in her obsession of crafts, old and hopefully new. By chance, it was just before the dreaded coronavirus. She had chosen her time carefully, as all her children were now the age of majority and had some sort of a plan. Whilst she was away, they were all at university. It’s always imperative for someone like Carly to have a strategy. It keeps her grounded and focused. These are both really important concepts when Carly is going off into the unknown, by herself for a four-month craft adventure. She knew she had the boundaries of purple, prime numbers and spirals for her projects. 

She compiled a list of 133 crafts she wanted to undertake whilst there. She arrived at this number by multiplying her two favourite numbers, namely seven and 19. There are some of the usual candidates such as knitting, weaving, spinning, and crocheting and some less common crafts like quilling, cyanotyping and lapidary. Come to think of it, she cannot even remember what lapidary is. Actually, it is the polishing of gems and stones. Well, she didn’t do it anyway. When she counted at the end of her sabbatical, she had managed to do 89 of them. Some would come under the umbrella of hyperbole. She, for instance, counted banana bread as two separate crafts! Bread-making and cake-making. But it did have delicious lilac icing which tasted of lavender and was totally yummy! 

Carly looked back at the list for some crafts that weren’t really crafts at all. What was she thinking when she listed walking, animals, family, and mindfulness? Never mind. Nearly five years on, Carly, who never was great in the memory department, couldn’t fathom out what she had meant back then. She did see her family as they came for a visit, and she did some mindfulness, saw plenty of animals and walked most days. She hangs her head to the side and questions herself, “For real?” 

In the end, the only new skill she learnt in India was to make dreamcatchers. Well, it was the only skill she learnt from another person rather than on YouTube. She met Babu in Pushkar, and he was delighted to teach her. It was essentially pretty simple. Cover the wooden hoop with thread and then make a series of loops until you arrive in the middle. It needs adornments and embellishments to enhance its attractiveness and, of course, feathers to hang down from the hoop. In India, Carly made four dreamcatchers ranging in size from small to large. She used feathers she found and bought from Babu and jewellery items given to her by a fellow traveller. 

When she returned to the UK, she had an exhibition of all the arts and crafts she had made. It lasted four days and over 150 people came to see it. She encouraged all visitors to take pieces they liked after the show had finished. She was really surprised by what people chose. She, never in a million years, could have predicted what people liked and wanted. And it got her thinking. All these years, she made things for people. She knitted for them, sewed for them, and generally made all manner of items for them. But it was her choice for them. Not what they chose, and she kept this thought close to her, for the future. Certainly, if she is making something like a commission, she involves the recipient as much as possible, so they choose the pattern, colour, and size for example. 

And then Carly thinks back to all the presents she has received. Not just handmade items by her large circle of crafting friends. Everyone. Even down to her son Haz, who took a necklace out of a drawer and repurposed it and expected Carly not to realise. And her ex who used his secretary to buy her toiletries from just below his office or the very same chocolates each time, when she clearly neither needed nor wanted them. The worst present from him was an intricate piece of gold filigree jewellery. From Dubai. It was goddamn awful. And probably expensive and not returnable. Everyone knew it would never be her style. But therein lies the rub. You just never know what people choose to like and consider stylish as it is very personal and oftentimes unpredictable. Recently Carly has seen how Yemenite filigree work is made, she actually finds it quite attractive. Part of her change of mind is the ‘story’. Customers would go with a silver coin. The jeweller would keep a third as payment and then spin the rest into very fine wires and wind them round repeatedly to make these intricate designs. 

Carly liked the provenance of dreamcatchers, what they do and how they look. And it was a skill she wanted to continue. Best of all was the mantra she had learnt in medicine. See one. Do one. Teach one. That is for learning a surgical skill. But it would work well for making dreamcatchers. And she was asked to contribute towards a wellness day for paediatricians in training. She had done silk painting in the past with this group and this was very popular, but this time Carly offered her skills as an expert dreamcatcher maker. Carly knows all about imposter syndrome. But this is the opposite of that. She had made a sum total of four in her entire life and that was several years ago. Hardly an expert at all. A dabbler at best…

Carly is sure she can live up to others expectations of her. She just needs a little practice. So, she gets busy ordering vast numbers of wooden embroidery hoops. She buys brightly coloured feathers and uses her large stash of beads and yarn for her teaching. She is told there are likely to be about 100 participants. “Fabulous”, Carly says to herself. She loves to amuse a large crowd. The bigger the better.

On what, Carly thought, was the allotted day, a little ahead of time to be able to set up, Carly arrives with a vast suitcase of materials to make dreamcatchers. It is rather odd, Carly ponders. There is no sign and there are no paediatricians. And then she checks. Oh no! She has the wrong date. And she is abroad when she is supposed to be doing this teaching. Being a resourceful person, she makes some videos and leaves all the supplies visible for this to be a self-directed session on the right day. However, Carly refuses to let this crush her. She finds some maxillofacial surgeons on their lunch break that very day she has turned up with all these supplies. She persuades them this is a skill worth learning and they agree. So, all her preparation, which was minimal, is not lost, as Carly is comfortable improvising.

Carly has always thought of dreamcatchers as objects. Physical ones to catch dreams, obviously. When she went to a hippy-dippy village in the north of Israel she found an excellent coffee establishment that sold lovely temporary tattoos. She chose a few but the one she really liked was a pretty and floaty dreamcatcher in blues and purples. And this put an idea in her head. She has been looking for a logo to represent her, the creative Carly, and she thinks she has just stumbled across it. A purple dreamcatcher. And, also, it was flat. It was representational and not a catcher of dreams. But lovely with the iconic shape.

And now Carly has a plan when she is away from home to get her creative juices going. She makes purple dreamcatchers on khadi paper which is made from recycled cotton saris. She collects all manner of things to decorate them including local leaves, flowers, small stones and shells. As well as beads, buttons, tablets and sweeties. She uses pens, pencils, inks, paints and crayons for the basic shapes. And uses glue to attach objects and embroidery thread to sew items on. Carly is really a dreadful artist. She is, for sure, not a copier of reality. She cannot even draw an oval or circle, so, uses stencils to help her out. She only ever makes them on holiday and has made up to seven a day. They are labelled with the location and date. Carly has made several hundred to date. It seems to be something that both calms Carly and sets her up in an inspired mood for the day. 

And with this number of them, she must give them away. Otherwise, she will be overwhelmed with them, and they will get dusty. She catalogues all her dreamcatchers and has written several blog entries about different sets. And then they are up for grabs. She suggests people take one or two that they like and tells them that she won’t mind at all if they don’t take any. Obviously, this is a ruse because Carly sees it as an affront to her creativity if people cannot even find one they like. But what she does know is that people like to be able to choose them. In some instances, people like the same one, but the good thing is that there is likely to be some other but similar dreamcatcher in her stash that appeals and satisfies the loser. Carly muses that people who take over three are just plain greedy. 

Carly has recently returned to making real dreamcatchers. She has all these hoops and plenty of other materials. But she must never buy any more of those brightly coloured feathers. They are from China and cruelly removed from birds according to Carly’s new friend Linda. But that is ok. Linda has a parrot, Perro, who provides wonderful feathers for Carly’s real dreamcatchers. “Phew”, thinks Carly, “Everyone is happy now!”