Tag: Travel

The Joys of Hygge & Fernweh

We have all felt the pull of the universe against the warmth of ourselves. At times, the expectations of the outer world seem to be in sync with our inner worlds, and at other times almost discordant. Like the tree whose branches wildly throw themselves into the air – without shape or form, nor any apparent laws of Physics – skewed right, skewed left, center of gravity tilted.

Wild, and yet ensconced safely behind a fence. 

Could that be the human spirit on some days? The pull of society vs solitude. The pull of adventure vs comfort. The pull of this vs that. Here Vs There. 

Here & There – By Thea Lu

I read this children’s book, Here & There, written by Thea Lu the other day that seemed to encapsulate all these feelings through two different characters who experienced and belonged to this wild Earth in their own contradictory ways bringing home the fact that both our domestic and wild spirits need a home within us. Or maybe that was the interpretation I came up with. Regardless, it addressed a certain yearning for Fernweh – a lure for distant lands – that the holidays seems to awaken in us. A contrast from the cozy comforts of the home and reading by the Christmas tree that the very same holidays beckon one towards.

The book compares and contrasts the lives of Dan and Aki. Dan owns a cafe in a seaside town. He stays there – always welcoming new friends and visitors into his cafe, but firmly rooted in his space. His perspective widening, and mind broadening with every interaction with a stranger. Never once leaving his place of belonging.

Aki, on the other hand, craves travel and adventure. His life is colorful – he meets many people who have become friends during his travels. He has seen volcanoes erupt in the oceans, made friends with migrating whales, and shared a drink with fellow travelers in sea-side cafes. 

It is a beautiful meditation of all the different ways in which we belong. How we can broaden our horizons whether we leave a place or spend all our lives in it. After all, perspective, imagination, empathy are all fantastic human capabilities.

In Praise of Mystery – By Ada Limon, Illustrated by Peter Sis

Another book that I read in the cozy light of the Christmas tree also evoked similar feelings. This book, In Praise of Mystery – by Ada Limon, Illustrated by Peter Sis is a beautiful book about the poem that left Earth in 2024 aboard NASA’s spacecraft, Europa Clipper. Europa is Jupiter’s second moon and is believed to be full of water, similar to our own. So, this probe is meant to investigate the possibility of life on Europa. 

Ada Limon is a poet laureate and it is her poem that is inscribed on Europa Clipper. The book is illustrated by an equally illustrious illustrator. Peter Sis – is a MacArthur Fellow, Hans Christian Anderson prize-winning etc etc.

How it will be read is another question altogether.

This isn’t the first time we have sent our presence out into the universe either. Voyager’s Golden Record contains as many snippets of life as could be managed on the capsule – images, songs, and greetings in 55 languages are on it. Whale song, folk songs from Bulgaria etc.

Hygge Vs Fernweh

The message and book, In Praise of Mystery, speaks to that human yearning to find life outside our own planet. We have been sending probes to see if there is life outside, but here, right here on this beautiful planet, we can spend so much more time appreciating and protecting what we have. Sitting by the twinkling Christmas tree lights, warmed by the hot cocoa that is essential on such occasions, I thought of the world in Europa. It could be thriving or desolate. Cold or warm. The thrill of that extraterrestrial adventure is all very nice, but I was happy to be in my little home by the tree, enjoying the warmths of winter –  Hygge

The human yearning for Hygge & Fernweh can both be there, can’t it?

Do Skunks Eat Ducks?

A few years ago, an aunt asked me, “Don’t you get bored looking at the same trees and park everyday?” She looked genuinely concerned because she had heard my mother-in-law say, yet again,  that I was setting off on my walk. 

They could not imagine why I would take the children on walks, or if they weren’t in the mood, then set off by myself. 

I was genuinely shocked. Not because of the question but because nature is very rarely boring. It is full of adventure and mystery, not to mention humor, and joy. 

Take for instance the morning walk a few days ago for me. 

Hibernation would be a marvelous pursuit

Winters in California can be tricky – cold, foggy, misty, cloudy, cold (did I mention cold already? Well – the cold this week is worth mentioning twice, so I’ll leave it). 

I went reluctantly for a walk. See climatic conditions mentioned above for explanations. When I get up in the morning these days, I fervently wish I was born a bear. Hibernation would be a marvelous pursuit. The self-help channels and articles are all banging on about getting enough sleep, and yet society wants you to be up and about for long hours and at absurdly cold times too. Ridiculous!

That morning I moaned about being awake, and the husband gave me an amused look. I snapped petulantly, “What?! I have to be awake all the time once I get up – till I sleep again!” 

“Isn’t that true for all creatures who aren’t nocturnal?”, he said, and I apparently replied in gibberish. Semantics. The point is, I did not want to get up. I do not want to get up. I do not want to start my day in the cold. But I do – everyday the alarm seems to go off earlier and earlier. It could not have been the whole night gone, could it?! I just got warm and comfortable. The comforter took that long to trap body heat, the heater did not turn on, the frozen nose took awfully long to thaw. 

But human-beings are resilient if nothing else. So, I dragged myself out into the cold. On my morning walk, the fog was still lifting, and the cold made me look like Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer. Even the birds seemed to be quieter. No chirping, no loud squawking. 

Down in the riverbed, that I stopped to take a quick stroll before starting the day, life was slow too. I saw a great white egret with her little chick, some geese, some ducks, and a grey heron. All lethargic enough to match the atmosphere around them. 

What is that – a rat, mole, otter, weasel?

That’s when I saw the sleek quick movement of the water mole. The water must have been biting cold. The frost on nearby rooftops could confirm that much at least. Yet, the water rat or mole or weasel or otter (I honestly do not know) was sleek and fast. 

I was fascinated. I started walking to keep pace with it, and looked on amused as it kept away from the waiting blue heron. Smart.

That’s when I saw a duck family nearby. The duckling must’ve hatched late. For it was the only one its size in vicinity. The water rat was gaining on it, and I held my breath.  That’s when I caught the white streaks on its tail. Ahh – it must be a skunk. 

Do Skunks Eat Ducks?

Would I be witness to a tragedy that early in the morning? A creature’s got to eat, sure. But can’t it be less gruesome than watching a little duckling being pulled under water? 

I willed the duckling to fly away, but it seemed oblivious. After what seemed like an eternity it sprang to life and ran away from the skunk. Slapping its webbed feet rapidly on the water like a basilisk – those creatures the children were fascinated with in elementary school. 

I released a huge breath of air – I hadn’t realized I had held my breath in for that long. 

Who says there is no adventure and mystery in nature? 

There’s plenty of it. I will have to tell the aunt all about it. 

The water-skunk went on its way, the sun slowly started to peek its way through the misty morning, and I jogged my spirits up to get back home and start a day of work.

Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts.

-Rachel Carson

Themes of Friendship and Cooperation in Hail Mary

Hail Mary by Andy Weir

We decided to read Hail Mary by Andy Weir in our book club, prior to the movie’s release early next year in 2026. This book proved to be delightful pick for all the different discussions we could have:

There were many fascinating areas in which our discussions went:

The grandeur of microscopic life

The Microscopic Wonders in Hail Mary by Andy Weir

It takes enormous creativity and brilliance to pull off a face-off between his microscopic light warriors that he christens, astrophages, vs taumoeba who are the only known predators of the astrophages. 

Encountering friendly alien-life

Encountering alien life and making it a friendly encounter, instead of the usual fear of an alien takeover is a bold move. As humans, we think of conquering and owning the next available world – so why would aliens be any different? Yet, in this tale, the first Eridian he encounters isn’t antagonistic, simply curious, and our messenger from Earth reciprocates. 

A tale of cosmic cooperation is uplifting and it led us to a wistful wish about having more uplifting literature to read too. Why are we this enamored by war and angst?

Eridian Art & Culture 

The alien-life encountered in the movie comes from a civilization where their planet is enveloped by an atmosphere that is 29 times thicker than the one that protects Earth. This results in a life-form evolving without sight since light is not a viable input source for them. They rely rather heavily on sound.

Of course, for a culture like that, I am curious to hear their music. Will their tonal variations be the same? Can their music encompass the range of hearing of whales and dogs? Or more?

Absence of Light

Towards the end of the book, I couldn’t help wondering how much we would miss light and its effects , if we were to live on a planet like Erid. It isn’t that I have a ritual singing praise to Ra, The Sun God, Surya, etc, but I do love sunlight. Especially the periods of transformation – the sunset and sunrise. Even this evening I sulked unduly because the sun sets so early these days, and I had barely time to close up my laptop when the day was gone. 

We all loved the book, and of course, saw the trailer at the end of it all. The choice of one of my favorite songs, The Sign of the Times, by Harry Styles is already promising.

What do you look forward to in the movie?

Novembers Blues and Joys

Describing a Blue Sky

It’s hard to not fall in love with rain-washed November mornings in California. I remember once as a child being asked to describe a sky of indescribable beauty and getting frustrated. The sky was blue. But it was a blue that was not just a color, it made you feel happy! What was the color of that blue?

I felt that way this morning too.

The blue made me feel the opposite of blue. No one who has experienced this blue would attribute sadness to ‘feeling blue’. So what gives? When language is not enough, maybe the fluttering of the golden thrush is enough. For that’s how it feels – to swoop and dance through the air.

The leaves are beautiful, star-shaped, hues of green, yellow, orange, red and maroon with little sunbursts through their leaves sparkling and shining to uplift your day. Peering through that riot of color to the blue sky – how does one describe that?

Prized Priceless

That’s when I noticed the helicopter flying low, and I peered up at it, and feeling like a toddler asked to point at the helicopter in the sky, waved at it. Of course, it was at that very moment that our empty suburban streets produced neighbors walking on the streets. I smiled sheepishly at them, and said, “A day that makes you want to wave at helicopters isn’t it?”

They exchanged a swift, almost imperceptible look of concern, and then being the kind folks they are, arranged their features to polite interest, and said, “I think there is a police chase going on. We saw several police cars earlier today.”

Oh.

If people ask me at the beginning of the day how I plan to make a prized fool of myself, I am not sure I could tell you. These things are not planned. There is an innate talent to these things.

I didn’t know what to say to that. I goggled a bit at them, and felt my cheeks brightening to match the color of the maroon leaves through which the sunbursts looked splendid.

“So! Have you seen what they are planning to do for the park?”

Adulting in November

I recovered and walked home, though, the nincompoop before this little social chat might’ve skipped home. Really! Sometimes being an adult can be very restrictive. I thought of Anne of Green Gables – I felt for this girl so much just then.

“Tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it… yet.”

― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

Just before I closed the door though, a beautiful butterfly and am engaging hummingbird seemed to understand what I was feeling as they flitted around the flower patch, and the trees nearby.

I watched them go, and then grateful that I got to step out at all, headed inside.

Feeling blue? Take a walk and wave at passing helicopters will you? The November world around us works like a charm.

Hail Mary & The Martian: Potato Love

As part of our book club, we decided to take up interplanetary themed works by Andy Weir. Hail Mary releases next year in March, and it seemed like a really cool idea to get a little astrophage love beforehand. 

So, we started off with Martian, watched the movie, then moved on to read Hail Mary. 

This led to many interesting outcomes. The first was more primal in nature. 

🥔The scenes where the protagonist, Mark Watney set up and farmed potatoes on Mars, appealed to all of us. Far fetched, but so is almost everything humanity has achieved up to this point isn’t it? Who doesn’t love to see a little potato pant sprout in a red and dusty planet?

We developed a new appreciation for potatoes and all the ways in which we make it. Poori sagu, potato fry, kaara curry, mashed potatoes, baked potatoes, dum aloo, french fries, potato chips, hash browns, cream of potato soup. 

Every time I pick up a potato these days, I gaze at it with awe. The other day, I watched a little sprout from one of it’s eyes, and the son gave me an eyeroll. 

“If potatoes could save medieval Europe from starvation, they could do anything, couldn’t they?”

“Yes – I love this new honey roasted szechuan style potato that you made for me the other day, so I can’t really complain about this new potato love can I?” said the wise fellow, and I laughed. Honey roasted s.style potatoes it is.

🧑‍🚀One of the many things that occurred to me as I was reading the Martian book was to see which of my friends were best suited for the different roles in the book. Who would be best suited for Mark Watney (not as a replacement for Matt Daemon of course!), but from an engineering and problem solving perspective. I am an engineer, and am surrounded by engineer friends after all. Who would be the best Dr Venkat Kapoor driving things from the NASA side? Who would be the scientist diplomat who works with the Chinese team? Fascinating exercise. 

👭One of the many things I liked about the book is how Andy Weir goes out of his way to show the bond between the astronauts on the Martian crew. Selecting a top notch team is a hard enough task without having to consider the effect they would each have on the other in a closed space for extended periods of time. What psychological tests must they have to figure out friendship, respect, and trust among the crew after/before all the obvious things related to technical competency are taken care of? 

💫Let me play a song I said the day after we watched the Martian movie. The son groaned. “No – I want something fun – not melodious today.’ he said. 

“I think you’ll like this one!’ I said with a confidence that stems from knowing the pull of the cosmos on the son’s psyche. 

”There’s a starman waiting in the skies.” David Bowie’s song filled the car and the pair of us bobbed to it startling folks in neighboring cars at rush-time.  

I already like the song by Harry Styles in the Hail Mary trailer. It’s one we listen to often. “Stop your crying it’s a sign of the times”

The movie, Hail Mary, is slated for release in Mar 2026, and we are looking forward among other things to see how the Eridian, Rocky will be visualised. Any of you looking forward to the movie?

Also, what did you think of the Martian book and movie?

🦢🦢🦢 A Pod 🦢🦢🦢, 🥁🪘🪵 A Drumming 🥁🪘🪵, and a  🦅 ☕🦅 A Kettle 🦅 ☕🦅 

It isn’t often that one feels like the poet, Mary Oliver. The October mornings are starting to feel crisp, and then one remembers that this is California – so we have a beautiful mix of windy, cloudy, frosty, and this year, rainy days. 

🥁🪘🪵 A Drumming 🥁🪘🪵

The vibes that morning seemed to be around the themes of: Ready to bear moisture, and don the colors of autumn. Some trees had started turning orange, and the little family of woodpeckers I stopped to observe on my morning walk had me enthralled. There is something about the morning sun through the orange leaves, and little downy woodpeckers flitting and pecking their way through their morning that has to be experienced. They are called a descent of woodpeckers, or a gattling or a drumming of woodpeckers. I like the last term more – suits their percussion band theme. 

The trees reached and yearned for the blue skies, the birds tittered and chattered. I couldn’t say they sounded happy exactly, but they sounded content. The Earth around me at that point felt content to be part asleep, part awake. 

🦢🦢🦢 A Pod  🦢🦢🦢

Thinking of this and that, I made my way to a little spot I knew was favored by pelicans for their spot of morning fishing. Watching pelicans do a spot of coordinated fishing is one of the best experiences of nature. For all these men and their wars and their power trips, they should learn a lesson or two from a pod of pelicans. 

Glide, swim, swoop,

Glide, swim, swoop,

Glide, swim, swoop,

Glide, swim, swoop

Ballerinas and group dancers they are – It isn’t a rhythmic time-based swoop, for sometimes, they glide, glide, swim, and then swoop. 

Community creatures they are, and so totally in sync with each other, it is a joy to watch their companionship. Maybe they are territorial with their nesting and breeding grounds, but they also have an immense sense of taking care of each other.  

https://nourishncherish.org/?s=coordinated+fishing

🦅 ☕🦅 A Kettle 🦅 ☕🦅  

By the time I came home, my spirits were soaring with the kettle of hawks overhead. Hawks really do have a musical cry. They swooped and cried high in the skies, and really, they could be called a Swoop of Hawks. The agility!

Musical cries, percussion bands and group dancing is more than a morning’s worth of excitement, don’t you think?

A pod, a drumming and a kettle put me in mind for a hot cuppa tea, and I bustled into the kitchen full of purpose. A few minutes later, I sat sipping my brew content in the knowledge that mornings like this are not easy gifts. They are meant to be savored one precious breath at a time. After all, poetry, music, orchestra and words can only try to capture beauty.

Bring in the Horses!

“We live in capitalism. Its power seems inescapable. So did the divine right of kings. Any human power can be resisted and changed by human beings. Resistance and change often begin in art, and very often in our art, the art of words.”

Ursula K. Le Guin

What will we fill our heads with?

This is an oft remembered quote for me. Every time I see patterns of behavior that I hope will be changed for humanity’s arc, I think of this. Sometimes, in order for things to change, it has to reach levels of intolerable.

Maybe that is where the attention industry will reach, and it this feeling of overwhelm that will herald in a new system of reward.

We had our hands full with survival in humanity’s infancy,  
   we filled our heads with myths and legends of heroism, superhuman strength, superhuman abilities.

We evolved and figured out ways of relatively sustainable food sources, 
   we filled our heads with epics, art, and music.

We figured out mass production,
   we  filled our heads with science fiction and fantasy seeking out other planets, other environments.

We figured out how to amass our thoughts and search/retrieve with ease, 
   we filled our heads with social media.

We are figuring out meta-cognition,
   what will we fill our heads with then?

Some days it isn’t the woodpecker who brings on the musing. It is the memory of a gas station.

The gas-station quandary

I had stopped the other day at a gas station (for gas – the clarification is necessary. These days we can stop at gas stations for milk, chips, entertainment and so much more) . Now, I don’t know about you, but I usually like to see the steady increase in the gas the tank is taking in. 12.00, 12.11, 12.12, 12.13, 12.14, 12.14, 12.15, 12.16.

A smile on my face when I see our car gulp in the gas like it’s a thirsty horse after a long run. The silly comparison makes me cringe a little, yes, but then I had seen a few horses trot in their pasture once just before stopping to fill gas, and often when the mind wanders at a gas station, I think of these chestnut beauties throwing their manes back and feeling the breeze.

But the other day, my attention was pulled towards a screen perched over the meter showing me advertisements on what they think should occupy my attention for the three minutes I was there. Combined with all the flashing billboards, and the moving screens, and the flashing games mobile phones are full off, I felt off-kilter. 

How did we get here? 

When did attention become such an important commodity that we sacrifice almost everything at its altar? Peace, quiet, steady study, calm, concerted effort – everything giving way to drama, loudness, frenzied movement, and quick reward systems. 

What can be done so that the opposite is rewarded again? For it is clear we are driven by reward. 

Can there be a small quiet reward to our brain when we quieten a loud intrusive distraction? 

Bring in the horses

I smiled at that. “Monkey brain!”, I chided myself. Though I have to admit, I am not sure what the attention span of monkeys are. I hope monkey mothers are not yelling at their children as we speak – “Human-brain! Distracted all the time. Swing. Leap. Onward and forward!”

I forced myself to bring in the mental image of the horses I had seen all those years ago before getting to a gas station, and they came. Reluctantly at first. CNN was asking me to get affronted about something, and thoughts of monkeys and horses could not pull me away easily. But they finally did. They cantered into the mind’s eye, like William Wordsworth swaying daffodils, and the brain quietened down. The green pastures the horses trotted in bursting with flowers, and I felt a calm. By the time I pulled out of the gas station, I had needed help from a menagerie to pluck my attention.

What would it take to become focused on something so beautiful and deep, that nothing matters?

How many of you are flibberty-gibbets? What would the social order be to reward that and what would be incentive enough to disrupt our current trend?

From Precious to Abundant: The Shift in Photography

“I may have just filled your phone with a bunch of useless pictures!” said the son. 

I nodded. Par for the course. Not like in our childhood, when you had to think through getting a picture developed in a store and wondering whether a picture is worth the wait, is it? You just delete them, or worse archive them, never to be seen again. Somewhere. Sigh. 

He was still thumbing through his pictures with a commentary on the side. Apparently, on several artistic ones of M&Ms on a plate  👀, when he stopped and said. 

“Oh well – now I don’t feel so bad!”

I looked up. What was he on about?

Komerebi – The dappled sunlight shining through the trees

“There are a whole bunch of pictures of … yep…. Pretty much all of them of trees! Goodness!”

I laughed. Then, feeling a little embarrassed, I confessed. “You know? On my walk the other day, I had this urge, nope…scratch that … It felt very important that I must try to see the differences in the way sunlight filtered through the old oak trees, the weeping willows, and the pining pines.”

“Oh Amma! You are a kook! How long did you do this?”

“I don’t know. Not very long, but I kept clicking knowing fully well that I may not exactly go back and see them again.”

Many to Solitary

Oh! How technology has spoiled us? I don’t think there is a single photograph in our childhood albums of light filtering through the leaves. If there was a leaf you liked, you picked it up, and crowded as many people as you could around the leaf to get in that picture! The poor leaf squished and forgotten, and all of us looking mildly surprised at being included in a picture of a leaf that isn’t even visible. We did the same thing when we met up decades later at our school reunions. We crowded in front of the lawns, jacaranda trees, clock tower,  and the bougainvillea plants, no clue why the background was so important, and the background completely forgotten with all the noises and laughter with folks in the foreground. It was marvelous.

I peered into the phone, and saw he had started looking at selfies taken a while ago by his sister. A teenage phase I’d like to call them – but these were all solitary hearts beating alone. Only context made it known that there was a crowd of loved ones around her that day as she took pictures of her nose from a 30 degree angle, and of her reading a book from the 130 degree angle. Obtuse. (I meant the angle.)

Precious to Abundant

Was that the trend of technology and advancements though? This move from crowded/community to alone/aloof lifestyles? Precious to Abundant. 

Hmm…I peered out into the rays of the setting sun, and shelved philosophy for another day. “Maybe we should get a picture of the sun’s rays through the filter on the M&Ms,” I said, and we cackled. It was time for another picture – combining our objects of interest this time.

Halcyon Days: Myths and Realities of Cloudy Moods

☁️The Colors of Cloudy Days 🌫️

Sometimes, I see how much of a spoiled brat I am. What I am about to say falls squarely in that category, and I shall say it anyway. The Californian summers seem to drag on. It feels especially so at the end of August. They are warm, bright, sunny, but not too hot.

📚The school’s summer vacations are over. But the summers aren’t. 

🩴The summer clothing is supposed to be winding down, but I can never bear to look at anything other than some flowy cotton with any fondness. 

🌷The summer flowers are still blooming on every shrub, plant, tree and pathway. 

While I mostly enjoy this halcyon time of the year, I also wouldn’t mind a few days of summer rain. Or even some cloudy skies. 

That was probably why I had not the heart to come in this particularly overcast morning. The clouds made an excellent background. The flowers that we see on our walks everyday were still there – but they looked more fresh, more vibrant. The angel’s trumpet flowers that we admire everyday looked more angelic than usual. The chamomiles looked more soothing – their purples against the sombre greys. As your eyes zoomed to the skies, the jacaranda tree’s flowers attracted your eyes to their purples too. Really these color combinations look marvelous against the grey. 

Shouldn’t cloudy days be called halcyon days? I mused. 

Are Halcyon Days Myths?

I came and idled with ‘halcyon days’ floating in and out of my consciousness. What I stumbled upon made it so. 

Halcyon itself referred to a species of bird that nested in the oceans during the winter solstice and were supposed to charm the wind and the waves into a calm. 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Halcyon_(genus) the halcyon bird owes its naming to a Greek myth involving the wrath of the Greek Gods, Alcyone & Ceyx. 

Somehow Alycone and Ceyx managed to anger the mighty Zeus (apparently, they lovingly called each other Zeus & Hera. Really! It must be exhausting to have such fragile egos and live on forever. An endless cycle of being offended, and recouping from it). So, Zeus , in his rage,  cursed them separately turning them into birds – there are many versions of the myths of course. Some say Alcyone became a kingfisher with a mournful cry trying to find peace in the seas. The gods (the other ones) took pity on her and granted her a period of calm as she prepared her nest and gave birth to the young. So, these days during the winter solstice were called the Halycon Days. Alycone’s father, the god of the winds, gave her mild breezes, calm oceans and tried to bring her peace. 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alcyone_and_Ceyx

What became of Ceyx? He either became a kingfisher too or a sea tern.

By Bernard DUPONT from FRANCE – Woodland Kingfisher (Halcyon senegalensis), CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=45557095

Of course, kingfishers do not live by the sea – so they could be referring to other birds, and over time came to be associated with these beautiful birds. 

After a start to the day in which I was feeling less than inspired – the cloudy days, and the halcyon myths managed to transform it. I have always liked the phrase, ‘halcyon days’. But now? I love it. 

Royal Life: A Light-hearted Perspective

Being Royal

“I take it all back, my dear. I think I want to be Royal. You know? Just have all the means, and have everyone do as I say!” I said to the children, who were milling around in the kitchen for lunch.

 “Everybody already does whatever you say! I don’t know what you mean!” said the daughter.

“No they don’t! But that’s going on the blog.”  I said, to which the son pips in his share.

“Oh my god Amma, you’re literally a content farmer, you know that? Full of dictums on using social media, instagram, etc, and here you are totally content farming.”

“True! True!” agrees the husband, who is also enjoying this far too much. “She is the Queen! Content Farming. Royals do it too, don’t they?!”

I laughed loudly at that, and said, “Seeing as none of you bowed to me while meekly accepting that you did not get the yogurt out of the fridge, I contest your claim.” 

Wealth, Fame, Fashion

The daughter and I have been watching a few episodes of The Crown on Netflix, and our commentary changes depending on the episode in question. 

Generally, having to not worry about wealth, ways and means, is a thumbs-up seeing as career discussions are a constant hum for those from middle class families. “I wouldn’t mind attending charity balls, and deciding where my money goes. “

“Exactly! Mental Health – yes! Global warming – yes! Improving chocolate wrappers – no! See?!”

One night, we were watching an episode where Lady Diana was being hounded by the press.  

The press scrutiny, and the unrelenting demands of living in the public eye earns a commiserating, “Must be awful living like that. Watching how often somebody talks to you, or who has their left toe turned away from you! Sheesh! People need jobs!”

“And – there we are back to jobs again! We must not be a very good royal family then, huh?!” we cackled to one another slurping the icecream sticks in our hands in a plebian manner. 

One day, we swooned over the fashions – the elaborate hats, and the colors that we wouldn’t wear to work everyday. The queen’s words to Prime Minister Blair then made sense. In that episode, the Queen is agonizing over the future of the monarchy, and has several polls taken to consider what they need to be doing, what they could do better: etc. Finally, predictably, she embraces the has-been, but shows growth by seeing the point of the can-be. She says something to the effect of the monarchy  existing to show us another world, transport us to another world. That, she is determined to do well. So if there are swan keepers of royal swans, royal buglers and bagpipers, and each of them providing a bit of a dip into that world, so be it. (Season 6 Episode 6, Ruritania.)

Sea Sense

One day, the daughter floated downstairs wearing something that looked like it had been discarded by Ernest Hemingway’s Old Man after a trying day at sea. I gave her one of my scathing looks that affected her like water on a whale. Then, I tried adopting a pleading tone. “Do you honestly want to wear this to a party in which other people will be present?”

“It’s summer! Relax. Besides, I like the fraying edges – it’s supposed to be like that.”

“So, it wasn’t ripped by an angry shark?!”

She gave me a look. Frozen. Piscene – in keeping with the theme of the evening.

“But think of the fashions!” 

“I am thinking of fashion. Clearly you’re not! What is this Mother? Fashions from last century?!” 

“Long skirts were rather popular in the 1990s, but they continue to be fashionable in 2025, don’t they?!” 

It reminded me of a good old book by Miss Read: Changes in Fairacre. Miss Read is musing on what to wear for dinner to her friend Amy’s house. Her Aunt Clara’s seed pearls would have to do with almost everything. And she says:

“Did other women fuss so much about their clothes, What did women do who had twenty outfits to choose from? Went quite mad, I supposed, worrying about shoes and jewels and so on to go with the right clothes. How did Royal ladies cope?”

I looked down at my well-worn skirt, a jewellery set my friend had gifted me a few years earlier, thanked the stars that aside from our modest circle of friends who were also our friends on social media, nobody really bothered about us.

“Royal life must be such a hassle, huh?! “ we chuckled as we settled into the back seat in our comfortable clothes. 

That evening, I sighed happily to myself, glancing up at the full moon glowing in the skies. We may not know what it is like to have a dip into another life, like the Queen says, but I am grateful there isn’t a dull moment in the house with these characters.