Suspend Your Presumptuous Disbeliefs And Listen

Those who remain languishing in the dungeons of Instagram are getting a repeat portion of a post I conveyed from my perspective on a make-do mindset. You shall have a mammoth feast of my mystical philosophy. Put the kettle on my fruits.

You can be assured of my continued attention as I will call out miscarriages and shed light on the dysfunction and low self-worth that plagues Instagram in the cottage core community. It is of vast importance that I speak of my forthright truth so as to assist in inspiring women to begin pulling back the veil by not placing celebrities or any other person, onto a pedestal. Stars, icons or even ordinary homemakers on Instagram with a large following, are no better than anyone else. I want you, my dear reader, to never doubt your individual worth. There is no one above or below you. You are a Mermaid Goddess/ God. If I must beat on about a subject for decades until I've gotten my point across I will. I wish to see women rising to the notions of changing their mindsets, and I shall hold fast such as a rabid dog. I mean to change the way women are constantly posturing, and usually, the ones that seem to have their p's and q's in order are the precise ones who are quite fraudulent. I could name a few, but my mama taught me manners. I feel certain those individuals of ghastly ill-bred behaviour and every bit unpleasant know who they are. I will remain proper with grace and dignity. I am here to write for those lovely folks who enjoy my chronicles and pay no attention to those who do not wish to change. I have not the time nor the gallant desire to place my pearls before swine. ( I am not peevish or angry; I am merely passionate about changing lives.)

The mindset of 'making do' is like having a counterfeit Louis Vuitton. If one boasts of purchasing this item or that handbag or bigging themselves up, I find is an excellent indicator that the one doing so believes an item makes them significant. These individuals have deep seeded worth and value insecurities. "Money screams, wealth whispers." I also would like to fling gas upon the fire again (thanks to my Sagittarius in rising) and touch on Instagram posturing. I came across a relatively medium-sized celebrity account from a suggested reel a few months back on Instagram. The lass began declaring she was unnerved that one of her recent well-known guests refused to post a picture of the two of them on his Instagram account (of which he had a wee bit over 2 million followers), and the host (the lass speaking) was upset and said she would never invite the guest back onto her show. Basically, he brushed her off and refused to advertise on his account that he had been on her broadcast. 

The host, having felt slighted (having 180,000 followers) on Instagram, was engulfed in agitation that he wouldn't promote her Instagram page. 

Darling, the constant need for validation is so middle class. The guest felt the host's superficiality and meagre vibrational energy. I know I am beating a dead horse, mind you; however, this example perfectly demonstrates a person (celebrity) with huge self-worth issues. She appears externally to have all of her ducks in a row, yet, when pressed, it became quite apparent she looks at others (as many celebrities do) that if you have a big following on social media, you are somehow a more significant individual. She was absolutely scratching at her conscious, and it was apparent and tat. These types of personalities think they are cloaking themselves with exterior appearances, and it's clearly undeniable to the person with great confidence of spotting the insecurity from a country mile. I have taken up the charge to burn down these buildings of insecurities and shallowness with terrifying regularity. Someone must take up the lead, so I volunteer myself. (Smile.)  

I feel confident you would never see the Your Majesty (The Queen) flashing her Launer (handbag) or sauntering around announcing, "look at my enormous, costly 450 million pound crown!" I ask you. 

Where was I? Oh yes, I was blithering about "making do." 

In the recent past, I would have been the first to bolster the rule of making do. However, whereas the mindset of making do has served me throughout my history, that mindset must be a shelved notion.

Allow me to explain. I'm speaking of personal experience; please do not pluck me as a hen set for Sunday supper. When the money belief is severely limited, "making do" sounds clever. This belief was a common thread in our home. It reminded me of always relying on that in my life. I would say, "Oh well, I don't have this or that, so I'll make do." We tell ourselves this because we do not want to admit the truth. We do not believe we are deeply worthy of such things as a grandiose home, living in a country we adore, a castle, expensive handbags, expensive cars etc. (The pretending to have loads of quid, I'll get to that in another post). We calm ourselves by internally affirming it's all well and fine, yet it is not. It is not the same. The self-soothing comment is why women go about and begin judging others on what they have that's of great significance and then turn round about their carriage wagon and say they are this or that. One will name what they are when it is the human heart specifying their deep desires and then blaming it on another for their low self-worth. This scarcity belief, and one, if perpetuated long term, creates a person never rising from their burdensome scenarios.

This sentiment is also a low self-worth belief. However, when a person becomes confident in themselves and confidence is their constant companion, this notion no longer holds water. This is another reason I advocate for listening and imprinting new beliefs at night to build the self-concept. I am also a great proponent of daily affirming. One's confidence will significantly increase, I assure you. If one persists in affirming, one will manifest everything one desires. There is no difference in manifesting a castle from a button. Now that I have been swift in throwing off individuals with low self-worth, I will explain how to become the confident mermaid that has yet to surface. You must begin changing your thoughts to be the woman you desire. The only action required is to change one's thoughts. I often experiment as I wish to be everyone's master, manifesting mermaid and mystic. However, simple thoughts of what one desires by constant thinking of those wanted desires are all it takes. This forest of fools (world) has entirely complicated matters to this degree and the tenth, yet I will teach simplification. I do enjoy personally listening to beliefs at night of affirmations of who I want to be, as it is quite fun. During the daylight hours, you must find wee bits of snipped moments and affirm, affirm, affirm. I sleep at night with beliefs (and my next post will be a descriptive version in written form of how to create your own beliefs on a voice recorder. In addition, I have a video on my Patreon for patrons.) The information will also be in my book, The Little Mermaid's Transformational Tale, forthcoming this year.  

It provoked me to ponder my little window in Scarlette Rose cottage. I created it to look old, yes; however, it remains a modern window that looks like a victorian window. It is not the same. Tethering to the belief of making do, as my self-concept has escalated, I no longer accept in the same manner these days. 

I would also caveat that this isolated incident is a cherry-picked scenario.

How do you feel about making do?

Mostaffably yours til my next swim, Lady Raquelxxx

Let Me Take You Out Of Your Misery (A Sunday Special)

 

My dear mermaid hearts, 

I've become quite the wee little mouse. Ever so quiet as if I am burrowing deep within my chipmunk's nest. Not for nothing, I have taken this respite from being an enigma to gather up discernings about myself, take inventory of my environment, close out chapters and cycles that no longer serve me and position my objectives for my vocation. To be a mother and housewife is the most valuable and extraordinary job of all. It can be a turnabout once leaving part of those employments behind and becoming an empty nester. In the last five years, I've been genuinely focused on my career bidding and manifesting my life's purpose with enormous discipline and vigour. It's now an engrained detail within me that if we as women are to accomplish anything significant

for ourselves, we must be the maker of execution. 

My dear mama and I can not or choose not to hold the notion of conversation about a man's money, a woman's money and when and if it's both. We do not acquiesce one wit. But, a fortnight ago, I heard something quite comical, which holds some truth. Women believe her money is hers solely; his money is hers, and their money is hers too. It's witty because it's true.

I am so appreciative that my husband is masculine. From research and talking to thousands of women over the years (when I had a significant YouTube audience), I know that most women adore having a masculine man by their side. One of the commonalities that nearly all of the women agreed on was that if a man was highly emotional, soft, and a bit feminine, he became incredibly unappealing, and her respect for him went out with the baby's bath water. Whereas if the man is held in high esteem, takes extra care of her safety and protection, and keeps her guessing, this is what women love. I must agree. If I do not respect a man, you can forget it, my dear. I believe if men were asked this question, they would also agree. I am highly passionate about teaching women to become very strong in their self-belief. When a woman becomes deeply secure within (and I do not mean having money and a career, for many women can possess quid and still be deeply insecure), she can remain firm in her expectations. This confidence will draw in the same energetic man and find a harmonious balance. The equal facility of a man and woman acquiescing in their roles together is quite beautiful. 

I raised all my children with proper skills, healthy minds, and the ability to be self-sufficient as able body adults. After bringing them up, my attention turned to my pining for my unfulfilled childhood dream of being an author, artist and farmer living an old-fashioned life. I placed my passions on the back burner to be a stay-at-home mother and support my then-husband.

Yet, after I became an empty nester, my then-mate was unwilling to compromise for me to pursue my dream. I am internally at peace as I have done the interior work on myself. My ex-mate bestowed me a great gift to reignite my long-laid-dormant inner strength to decide for myself, and I served him with a bill of divorce. (Mind you, my fruits, be not blinkered in concluding my career dreams was the straw that broke the camel's back.) I had dealt with such long past nonsense on stilts, and it took me years to love myself more than another. I ultimately arose to the acceptance; there was never a truth of which he spoke to me that didn't hurt. I have long categorised him as an encounter that was a proficient learning experience that will assist in my enabling to teach women and children to never falter on themselves for another. There is no peace to be found if one does so. These days I am quite indifferent. I do not hate, love, nor have any accounts that ignite emotion within me except to teach self-love and the importance of leaning upon self.

I ignored my true inner being repeatedly from day one, deeply knowing our union was an experience that should never have transpired. Yet, I will not carry on in sharing my circumstances, for it is of no benefit of which to derive the telling. Do you know when you no longer hold anger or feelings towards someone? When you can not conjure up a memory where there's no emotion, as if the whole experience never even took place, that is when a person has definitively healed. (You'll want to read my autobiography this year for the details if you please). No, seriously, though, the only reason to share my story is to show women that although offences get laid against an individual, there is always a positive and incredible way to come through the other side without leaving manners, grace and dignity at the back gate. It is not so effortless at times, yet the emotional and universal reward is entirely worth it. (To be frank, I think this was the greatest offender in the Tom Brady and Gisele Bündchen marriage fallout. I read her book years ago and picked up on several of her self-concept insecurities, which is why I have gained that conclusion.) That is my subjective contextual opinion, albeit we as women (or men) should never put off our desires for the outset because what happens; is a breeding ground of deep resentment. We all should remain selfish because we will ultimately arrive there at the end of play anyhow. We will always make decisions for our personal happiness; make no mistake about it. May we make haste in not wasting time and simply manage to get on with it.

All is lost when a man feels disrespected. He will stick around because men are entirely more committed than women in that way, yet they will detach emotionally from the wife/woman. If a man feels disrespected, all is lost. I am quite old-fashioned in my clothing and have considerable notions about motherhood, being a housewife and the like. I am also very antiquated in that I respect the man for being masculine, the provider, keeping me safe and all things that make for being a man. I am not a woman of feminism; however, I do not judge anyone for their beliefs. If anyone knows me, I fully believe everyone has the right to believe anything they so choose. I attempt to seek out the best in everyone, and at times, that has stretched me, but as time prevails, it has become second nature. What comes with accepting folks is not that we like what they represent; or even like the person. It is the mere truth that we usually find so unbearable in another person because we possess that same imperfection, and looking at that other person has unearthed our unresolved pain. For example, when we become unhinged in anger, that person is touching on our hidden wound. This flare-up can be instrumental as an anecdotal tonic if we can rise above the town square and view it retrospectively. Remember, my dear heart; optimism is my one weakness. (wink wink)

May one not inquire what this post is meant to obtain, for I know not, and might we leave it at that. Some blog posts do not have to be erudite. Did you lose the plot, my basketeers? Speculation is the enemy of calm, now carry on. (You know I'm having a go with you. Smile.) Have a happy day, my darlings. Cheers! 

Most affably yours til my next swim, Lady Raquelxxx

A Victorian Heritage LifeStyle Calls To Me, A Soupcon Of Truth (And An Update On The Use Of The Victorian Icebox)

In my Patreon episode, I restored my Victorian ice box, briefly sharing the aesthetic results and adding the components on the inside, which returned it to a functioning icebox. It is time to share more about how the adjustment of the actual usage of the ice box has been getting on. It will derive benefit to those also wanting to attempt a lifestyle without electricity (or minimum use of electricity). In addition, sharing the pitfalls and experienced notions that worked for me will aid others.

(Please keep in mind a few concepts before I proceed forward, for I am transparent and wouldn't want to mislead anyone into the notion that I am not authentic.)

(Firstly, as I've referred many times, I currently bathe and use the accommodations (privy) of my folk's main house whilst I work to create the functionalities, such as adding plumbing, a septic tank, etc. As one would understand, a build takes time. In addition, as I've been cast on the reality show, I've had to consider undertakings. Therefore timing must be regarded as I've been diving into particular assignments.) 

My little heart-healing undertaking (Scarlette Rose Cottage) began as an endeavour to mend my spirit by keeping me engaged whilst I was working through my son's death, and yet in the process; it has brought on a life of its own. Whereas at first, I was at the notion that my folk's place might become our forever home, things have changed significantly. At some juncture, Jeffrey Shawn and I will seek out our very own place. It will be ample with land and must be conducive to the future of The Carter Settlement. Nevertheless, whilst I am where I am currently, I will remain happy, follow my bliss and Take Joy! If there's one thing that I taught my children and a method that I performed all through the years whilst married to my ill-suited ex-mate, it was always to create an atmosphere of stability. I often knew we would be in a rental home for only six months, yet I pretended we would be there for years. That mental mindset encouraged security in my children. If they knew mummy and our home felt lived in and cosy, they would also feel at home and comfortable in their hearts. (I continually emptied boxes, hung photos and knick-knacks and curated our little tokens amongst the house to make it happy.) Today you can ask any of my children, and they will tell you the same.

The enjoyment I developed for the cottage project has become such a part of me that my imagination and joy has continued and so I plod on in experimentation. As time permits, I have slowly acclimated to a particular pioneer life; as I adjust to the endeavours, I've moved to the subsequent exercise. One that I've fine-tuned is the hand-washing of my clothing. (Remember, all the tasks I perform are merely for myself. As for my dear husband, I wash his clothing in a modern machine; he's not enthralled in such extremities as I am in old-timey living, yet he knows it makes me happy and is enormously supportive, which means all the world to me. (Yet make no bones about it, I do what I like when I like, always retaining a deep respect for others; however, I will not sacrifice my passions for the sake of another.) I constantly remind women never to give themselves away in the desires of their hearts and inner truth. (This pertains to men as well.) I gave myself away in my previous marital arrangement, which ended carelessly, for it took me several years to repair the lost parts of myself. I felt slow intervals, I was taken apart like a clock surrendering my life, which created enormous resentment, and I swam towards taking a passport (wanting to end my life). I shall spare you the salty details of living with a solipsistic sod until my autobiography. It will be accurate, yet I will write with a slant, for my emphasis will be to give the book fairness by writing from my scars and not my wounds. Although the nonsense was on stilts, I have grace and dignity, with a bit of run footing, my dear. 

I digress, my darling. Let me get on from the prattling. 

Ah, again, my working out the kinks with the icebox has taken time, trial and error. I am especially pleased to have the pleasure and allowance to practise these ideals with leisure as I have chosen. I am a woman who's prone to dive deep. The fascination began with curiosity and research yet quickly became a slight obsession for testing my tenacity to see if I could live a life of my own volition. I've chosen to live how I am determined to, and it's undoubtedly a navigational concept when I have modern ideals all around me. Is it not the actual test? As with anything in life, whether I am charmed to partake in having a (black box) television when it's quite clearly right in front of me (in my folk's cottage) and yet choosing not to turn it on or have one installed into Scarlette Rose Cottage. The same with the electric light in the room. I can quickly flip the light switch but choose not to by glimpsing if I learn to utilise the natural daylight and, by evening, use candles and kerosene lamps. Also, with the icebox, I am learning from the inside to outside the rotation of our seasons. 

Allow me to lean into what has transpired with our little icebox. I spent several months using my folk's freezer to make ice blocks using the gallon plastic containers. The plastic container was not a great idea. Here's why. I live in Florida, where it's scorching hot, and it feels as though, on some days, we're six degrees in hell. Every two days, I had to change out the plastic gallon containers. I couldn't freeze water fast enough to keep it in the icebox going back and forth, which marked the items from remaining sufficiently cold enough for me. One has to be careful to keep the temps low and sufficient for the threat of food poisoning and such. The next idea was to use dry ice. I immediately stopped this sentiment. Have you taken a gander at the price of dry ice as of late? That idea was entirely too expensive, beings we aren't solely living in the cottage currently. I then searched for three days to see if anyone sold solid blocks of ice, preferably deliverables. They offer this service but no longer for Florida residents; it's only in selected northern states now. The next thought was to load the ice down with loose ice from my folk's icemaker.

My mum collected the overflow of the icemaker into a large bag, and I filled the icebox. That method worked for roughly a week. However, it wasn't enough to keep it full to the top. I have now figured out the best solution, which is to add a small wire screen inside the top portion and fill it to the brim with ice. That way, the ice will not fall through the vented area on the side and remain capable of holding the items I want to stay cold inside the top of the ice. I do not know why I didn't think of this strategy first. One lives and learns, I suppose. I have more ideas to boot: to pack the ice with sawdust or hay to prevent the ice from melting quickly; however, that sounds like a mess waiting to happen. I wonder if sheets of cork would work better. 

This concept of living in the olden ways may sound like a bit too much work for me to venture into, primarily when I do not have to live this way; it's merely by choice. Yet the most significant advantage for me is genuinely assisting in my research for the writing of my novel (Deceit and Dissension). And to be quite frank, I feel more at one within myself, and it feels much more natural when I am dressing, and performing tasks such as one would have over one hundred years ago. 

Most affably, yours til my next swim, Lady Raquelxxx

Gathering Up Dropped Stitches As Well As I May (What Sort Of Writer Are You)

"In his love for knowledge and familiarity with books, a man may find his happiness and usefulness increased a hundredfold."-Walter R. Houghton, 1889. American Etiquette and Rules of Politeness. 1889, p. 33-34.

I caught the ole' flu. I feel refreshed after allocating myself to a nursemaid. The best forte is loads of sleep, every third hour, administering myself with dōTerra oils and more than my daily average of Lacroix. Now to the task at hand, a bit about writing. 

Whereas 2022 came and went, writers, deemed it "dead week" (the days between Christmas and New Year). I have yet to poke my nose out of the soil ne'r long enough to provide a planned inventory of 100 things of this there and the tenth that made my year. However, I will gather up dropped stitches as well as I may. As time passed, and after a bit of pondering, I concluded the list has no evergreen relevance to my readers. So rather than post the list, I wrote it in my offline diary. Then, at another juncture, when my mermaid's bones have become foam, individuals can read what I wrote. Sounds fetching? 

As I was convalescing, I finalised for nearly the tenth time watching the series on Britbox the broadcast Lark Rise to Candleford. Have you managed to see it? If not, have you read the books? Here is a slim synopsis by Flora Thompson.

(Lark Rise to Candleford is a trilogy of semi-autobiographical novels by Flora Thompson about the countryside of north-east Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire, England, at the end of the 19th century.) 

It's quite a Cottage to the Core aesthetic, do you not agree? I solemnly state if you've not read the books, you are missing the boat, my lads and lasses. The book and television series are extraordinary, and my one weakness. Allow me to harp a bit. It is of utmost significance that each woman finds her calling in how she writes and speaks to the world through her unique writing of the slanted hand and spritely turn of phrase. 

In the last episode of the Lark Rise to Candleford, I closely related to Laura, who floundered to find her place and writing style. I have determined through mental proclivity that since the start of listening to my new assumption tracks at night (over a year and a half) to change my beliefs, I know the direction of my writing style. Whereas I may, at times, frolic with story style, I have a definitive path. I demonstrate my profundity when I write here in this little chipmunk's interweb slot on my blog. When folks celebrate and rest in fame and fortune, they claim they could never have imagined the outcome of their success as authors. I want to tell them that it is an error. For nothing upon this world ever demonstrated has been done without the thoughts of that creator. There is no such thing as luck; thoughts create. Anything that has ever existed first came from a man's thinking.

One may begin searching round' for notions on women writers in the Victorian age. In that case, one will undoubtedly find bits and bobs of her quoted as feeling inadequate in what existed in the period of mainly the male writer, with many women handling justification by writing under a pseudonym. If we as women persist onward in feeling deficient, we will indeed prove that truth to be the measure. I am an advocate for depending upon myself and not anyone else's advice. Throw comparisons out with the baby's bath water, remain confident and forget the rest. 

Women specifically spend too much time seeking other writers' validation. My mama questioned me a fortnight ago and said she thought I was a bit too smug in not taking advice from other writers. I remarked that I had spent time building my self-confidence and manifesting my writing capabilities. In our civilisation currently, we witness far too many insecure folks walk the earth with terrifying regularity, seeking hither and thither to find someone to big them up and validate their writing. That is complete rubbish. Misdirected seeking of others from outside of ourselves is a total delusion. It shows lacking self-worth and self-concept. I do not care; one whit if the most excellent writer (by the world's golden standards) stood up and said I was a dreadful writer. I would not be phased nor think for a moment they were correct. I speak with the confidence of conviction I have, for I had to learn the difficult way that we must rely on ourselves (and the God within) to accomplish all things. If I believe in myself, it will reflect outward. I'm receiving the direction for my life, and the world's validation is unimportant. Most folks are self-loathing, and whereas they have learned to write things that will sell, that measurement of success is not always plain and straightforward; it's quite subjective as anything else in the world. If we, as women writers, cannot be enormously confident, what's the point? Who wants a load of future wet lettuce authors, not, I said, the fly? I would not boast of any such woman. 

In the last episode of the television series (which quite frankly ended too abruptly, yet I understand contractually, Brendan Coyle began working on Downton Abbey, which created a conflict in filming for both shows.) Did you feel it ended too soon? 

Daniel grapples with the notion that he must tell Laura she is forcing her article about the future industrialised farm machine that came to Lark Rise. Yet he is hesitant to say it to her, fearing she would be offended. Finally, Daniel takes heart and seeks the advice of Ms Dorcus Lane on what to do, which advises Daniel to inform Laura her writing on the article felt forced, and that he should be forthright with Laura. Daniel gives Laura an account of his thoughts; she is let down and discouraged for a moment. Laura began lamenting she was failing and not meant to be a writer and should give up writing. "Who would want to read about country folk, simple life, and smallness?" She questions. Who would want to read such things if they cannot appeal to the popular imagination? To which Daniel returned, "On the contrary, Laura, you've found your subject; why turn away from it? Do not write to the popular imagination; speak to the human heart. A way of life surrounds us that one day will be lost, and surely that deserves to be recorded, Laura." 

As. a writer, I found such comfort and encouragement in those lines creating an uprising within me with such a strong fortification in what my words will and are going to do and that makes me internally overflowing with joyful bliss. Indeed, we all have that one speciality which no one can do as generously. If we all look upon our place in this great big blue marble fondly, we will most positively make our mark upon history through our writing; whether small or significant, we all leave a legacy through our fingerprints. So please write, my dear friends; it's the most beautiful gift we can bestow upon our relations and beyond this realm. If you are a writer, then write you must. 

Most affably yours til' my next swim, Lady Raquel 

Extraordinary News! I Manifested One Of My Dreams!

I've announced the bit o' news in an under-the-radar way, and as I've done it quietly, I believe most folks have missed realising my grand announcement.

In June of 2022, I began the process of being cast for a reality competition show. I believe that I manifested the adventure because, in 2018, I created a vision board and posted a picture of a television, and on the TV image, it said "My Own Reality Show" back when I envisioned that way. Nowadays, I dream it into being and use Neville Goddard's techniques, which work like magic and have never failed me.

To be honest, I had forgotten entirely about that vision board, as it was the year before Sawyer died, and that desire became irrelevant, and I must have let it go in my short-term memory. Yet, my passion lay dormant, for it reappeared. I had no idea that the actress Reese Witherspoon had a production company, nor was she highly involved in bringing books to film. Then, my dear English friend, Catherine from Instagram, reached out to me, and that is how it all began. Perhaps I'll give a long-winded version on video one day, but I've not been feeling quite so enthusiastic about youtube nowadays, except for my Patreon episodes. I love making those for The Curious Mind of Raquel Carter. 

Albeit this post is relatively short, I thought it would be a pleasure to share with you, my dear friends, the news that I manifested in becoming a cast member on the reality competition show called "Cottage to the Core." I will have the name on the screen as the "Cottage Core Mermaid." The production company is Reese Witherspoon's and is called Hello Sunshine. 

If this post is anything, it's a testament that manifesting and conscious creating are real, and it absolutely works. So, keep the stride if you have a childhood dream or one that you thought was a bygone memory. Then, perhaps reignite that dream and pursue it, for if one has a desire, it desires you—Toodle~Pip darlings. 

Most affably yours til my next swim, Lady Raquelxxx