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Up and/or down(ish)

Hi chums! So 2015 has been a pearler for me so far. Ups and downs, sort of, and we’re only three weeks in. I’ve just completed my training as a yoga teacher and it was the most wonderful thing ever. Guided by the wonderful Heather Agnew of Yoga Trinity, I and 19 other students studied, bent, posed, stretched, talked, cried a bit, laughed, and drank lots of coffee together as we worked our way towards a deep understanding of yoga practice and theory.  It was an exceptional experience: even if I wasn’t going to be a teacher, I would strongly recommend anyone with a committed yoga practice to consider taking the training. But I admit it was intense. In. Tense. Every day we kicked off with a ninety-minute led session, and it was a rare day that didn’t have some subsequent practice/play throughout the rest of the day. But through the power of coffee and M’s splendid farinata and eggnog production, I made it through! Look out, world, bethini’s bendy!

And then I celebrated by having the first of my scheduled root canal therapy visits. WHEE! You’ll be pleased to hear (as I was), that despite its fearsome reputation, root canal therapy is not nearly as traumatic as you’d think. In fact, it was no more painful than a regular filling done under anaesthetic. It was, however, a much lengthier process and left me with a creaky-sore jaw from being propped open for an hour. Anyway, in a few short days I should be able to start using the left side of my face for chewing and be able to enjoy hot and cold drinks again — I cracked a tooth in October and it has been miserably painful ever since. I can’t wait to show everyone my new party trick where I drink a cold drink without flinching.

This is turning out to be a cool year. In between these highs and lows, I went bushwalking at the coast, stared in rockpools until the crabs stared back, ate 11 mangoes (we shared a box of 22) (not in one sitting, obvy), learned how to make corn tortillas and knitted on my drapey poetry cardie. I knit for hours and hours (a road trip means I can say that without exaggeration) and produced, oh, 3 millimetres of fabric. Goddammit, Mr Noodle.

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