Like the crusty Croods from the animated movie (see what I did there?!), we are a multi-generational family setting off on an exciting adventure to a distant, promised land. Having heard of this magical oasis deep in the western deserts of Egypt, we, the Crooks (a mix of Crood and Cook, see what I did? See, see?), have decided to answer the call of our spirit and take each step as they emerge from and into the mystery.
Which basically means we don’t have a plan.
It might sound crazy but anyone who has known us long enough, I trust, would not be all that surprised, our story is full of unexpected twists and turns after all. Although, this one is perhaps the most surprising of all. Egypt? Of all the places we have been to, this is the most different and unlikely of destinations. And yet here we are.
And so, who are we?
We have Grandpa Crook, or Graham, the patriarch of the family, the moses who has stoically led us through many a land seeking a place to call home. Born and raised in England but spent the last forty years mostly far away, drifting. Again, like Moses. Hmm. A lawyer with the heart of a poet, he is the rock that holds us all together, the love that binds us. He also is partial to a little practical joke. Is the only family member who likes marmite (sacrilegious), and like all good English people, is partial to a cup to tea and a biccie at tea time.
Vovo, aka. Dora the Explorer, aka. Pranayana Jones, aka. Michelle, is the matriarch, the bringer of light. Born in (ahem) the USA but raised in Brazil (with Brazilian family which makes her Brazilian not American, just to be clear), she loves to laugh and is preparing to unleash her comedic genius on the world in the form of her various alter-egos. Watch out TikTok, Vovo the Explorer is about to take your world by spoof storm.
Vovo (granny in Portuguese) Crook, will talk the ear off just about anyone. Like all true Brazilians, no story is a simple affair but must include a detailed and wholly unnecessary telling of the entire backstory. It’s her secret weapon, our secret weapon, that we can use in any tricky social situations. Need an ice breaker? Deploy Vovo Crook. Works every time. Partial to coffee and considers breakfast as the best meal of the day, yet oddly, fruit as a satisfactory supper, she loves fiercely, with an edge. Oh, have I mentioned she is also a powerful seer?
Vanessa, is, well, me. A 43-year-old, very single mum, in a perimenopausal body I don’t recognise, with a soul full of hope and unbridled curiosity about the world. I live my life according to the nudges of my spirit, knowing there is a broader pattern at play that I might not be able to fully see. This has had its challenges.
Now that I have jowls, there is nothing left to lose and I may as well join my mum in her comedic endeavours online. As I‘m writing this, I’m literally picking leaves and twigs out of my hair and the idea of this (indicating myself) going online next to regular people with make-up and lights is laughable.
I too feel like I have been drifting. Trying things, learning, growing, testing, learning more, but not feeling yet like things have clicked. Not feeling like I have found my place. That’s ok. I trust there is purpose in that. Not the hugest fan of tea or coffee, although I will drink them, I am a huge fan of an icy cola on a hot day. So good. Apparently, sinful. But so good.
My biggest thing has always been movement. From 4 years old I used to put ballet videos on and copy the moves. I was always dancing, just like Angelina ballerina. In the kitchen, in the dining room, in my bedroom, always dancing. I can feel the spark of my younger self, the rush of energy that dance brings to the body and I recognise how much this phase of motherhood has changed me.
Which brings me to Eli, the kind, beautiful soul that is Eli. He will be 13 at the end of October, when we’ll be in Egypt. What a place for such a rite of passage. He is growing up, finding his way, his interests and gaining confidence in himself through them. He isn’t athletic (although he will agree to go on walks - sometimes), he loves to draw, to help out when I need him and to cook (he is a really good cook). Otherwise, you will find him gaming. That’s the current “thing”. We have been through many “things”, phases of single-minded focus on something and then suddenly he moves on to something else and the other thing fades away into the distant reaches of space. I trust this will be the same. I trust his path, I must do. If I trust my own, I must trust his. And I trust that we balance each other out, each reflecting something back to the other.
Either way, he loves fun facts. The fun facts are endless. Some are interesting, some are very strange, some are about cars or tech I have no interest in or knowledge of. He is also a joker, but like - a “dad joke” joker. He comes out with several a day, all sorts of plays on words and some as groan-worthy as any of the best dad jokes.
Like the Croods, we enjoy regular group hugs, although prefer our own rooms and beds to sleep piles. Although, thinking about it, incorporating pile-ons into our lives might be fun, now Eli is older. My brothers and I used to do them a lot when we were younger. Ah, those were the days. Pile-ons and wrestling matches. I was a master of the cobra death grip. No one could escape my crushing thighs.
Group hugs are a practice Eli introduced to our family and it’s become a thing amongst us. We tried to get him into pile-ons when he was little but for some reason they didn’t take.
My mind conjures up an image of sweet, scrawny, angelic little Eli, tears pricking the edges of his eyes as he is peeled from the floor after his first, glorious, family pile-on.
“Mummy, do you have to be so violent? Why can’t we just be loving towards one another and hug?”
And so, the group hug was born and I have to say, there is something special about them. They seem to magnify love and joy. Once you can get past any awkwardness you might feel, you feel the glow of companionship. We show up for each other. Our hearts beat as one. We are family.
We are big fans of the group hug and everyone who comes to our house gets subjected to one, whether they like it or not. And I think many of them sneakily like it. Sleeeeep piles, not so much a fan of those. I like my space and I have a king-sized bed that I sleep alone in – have I mentioned I’m very single. I wake up to a sleep pile of my dog and three cats most mornings and that’s about as much as I can handle.
Another similarity between us and the hairy Croods is our collective tendency towards an au naturel appearance. I mean, I would go around in a loin cloth if it wouldn’t be seen as quite so outrageous, I’m not going to lie. I can imagine they’re quite comfortable and practical, not to mention durable. The ultimate in bio-degradable chic.
Theoretically I’m not opposed to make-up or styling, whether hair or clothes. I admire the masters of the craft and the ease with which younger generations pick it up and develop their style. It’s truly an art form. I guess, the rebel in me objects to this swell towards masking yourself, whether that’s with botox and filler or contouring and fake lashes. The more I’m presented with an altered version of people the deeper I sink into being natural. I can’t help it and I’m not sure what it says about me but take me as I am. Probably something to do with the energy of balance I hold.
I do occasionally do my legs though. There’s something nice about a smooth leg. And I did make a lip salve for my dry lips with cocoa butter and beetroot powder, which is a sort of nod towards lipstick. I did grow the beetroot, slice it, dry it and grind the slices in my mortar and pestle to get the powder. That’s pretty crunchy.
Eli’s got this long mane of wild, knotted curls down his back. You’ll be lucky if you get him to shower more than a couple of times a week and that’s with constant reminders. Grandpa G’s not too far off that. There is something about the post-war English who seem decidedly opposed to daily washing. Michelle is the one who scrubs up best out of us. You can take the girl out of Rio but you can’t take Rio out of the girl. She doesn’t think she looks good but she always does. I don’t know what she’s seeing but I don’t see scruffy like she does when I look at her.
I wonder if that means that I actually don’t look as scruffy as I imagine myself to be? Perhaps it’s all in my head too? I look down at my black sweatpants that are covered in seeds from the wildflowers in the garden and my black, strappy vest that is smeared in dirt and has a small hole in it. I think there’s a cobweb in my hair too. Oh yes, there is.
Perhaps, not all in my head then.
Great, now the cobweb is stuck to my trousers.
So, the Crooks, like all protagonists, are preparing for an adventure to distant and exotic lands for three months. Calm down people, this isn't a forever trip - or so we think! Two have been before, like scouts-slash-priestesses on a sacred spiritual quest. They were drawn to this mystical place in the desert and were told by ethereal beings to return.
Having spent time at home preparing, the pieces are coming into place for them to finally return, along with the rest of their eclectic, hairy pack. Will they discover what the great Oracle of Siwa wishes to reveal to them? Where will this mystery take them?
Who knows what adventures will befall this amorous (not odourous) family as they take the perilous road into the western deserts, to the very heart of Source. Join us as we embark on this great quest into the unknown. Follow on all the socials. Like and subscribe. Click the box. Buy our merchandise. Buy me.
I’m kidding. We don’t have merch. And there’s nothing wrong with merch either. Why not, if you can do it, go for it. Maybe one day we’ll sell “Crooks” hoodies. Do what works for you with wherever you are in your journey. It was more a light prick at how social media went from sharing about your life to selling filtered products, services and lifestyles. It has its place but I miss the old, simple sharing and don’t feel the new way serves us all that well. Anyhoo.
Balance, my dears, it’s all about balance. The great Ma’at dancing her eternal dance. Nothing is as it seems. But seriously, if you want to follow our stories sign up for the mailing list.
We leave in two days and it’s surreal and exciting and feels laced with magic somehow, I can’t describe it but I feel it. My field is already connecting with Egypt. I can feel the energy approaching, it fills the edges of my vision. And I feel ready. I think we’re all ready.
The elder Crooks have been champing at the bit like deranged, caged birds, desperate to get going for ages. While the younger Crook is soaking up as much WIFI waves as he can until the last possible minute, when I’ll have to wrench his numb, overworked fingers from the keyboard to get him to the airport on time.
And I? I have to get back to packing and cleaning so that it’s all pleasantly spaced out and not a mad rush at the end. So proud of myself. Am I growing up?
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