It is Easter. This means, to many people, fluffy rabbits, eggs, and possibly some religious stuff. To me it means tourists! And not being able to walk the dogs with confidence and in a relaxed way, as we are likely to meet people every few yards. This means leads for pups, and that is hard work and not very good exercise for them.
So a lot of throwing balls and the like in the garden has resulted.
And a lot of listening to the amount of traffic trundling up and down the main road, even now, at midnight. I was in a local hotel earlier today (for a meeting, not pleasure) and was rather surprised at how quiet it was - judging from the traffic noise now it was the calm before the storm.
I must be one of a minority in wishing for rain over the holiday weekend - rain keeps the real numpties away, and limits the chicken bones and rubbish from discarded barbecues. Rain dissuades the walkers who toss their crisp packets and chocolate wrappers to the ground wherever they happen to be. Sometimes I like rain!
I know, I choose to live here, at least to some degree. And given I spent a while in the Lake District it is not exactly a foreign experience, all these tourists. But I still long for silent paths, and the chance to walk and not meet anyone at all. I miss listening to the birdsong without a constant bass and rhythm section from the ever-passing traffic.
This weekend I need to take some time to make some decisions, and then to act on them. Some for me, some for others, some in hope, and some in fear. We shall see.
A rose amongst thorns . . .
The random and bizarre, sometimes illustrated, sometimes not.
Thursday, 13 April 2017
Wednesday, 5 April 2017
Profit.
It feels as though all that matters to most people is the amount of money they get for or from something.
I have a deeply unpleasant situation to deal with at the moment, and that is what has triggered these thoughts. In this 'situation' the profit of a large company is being set firmly ahead of the cultural history and tradition of real people, and it sickens me. I shall plough on, but I doubt I will win.
In other news, the wee sausage (smaller of our two sibling dogs) has some relatively rare thingy
(Imerslund-Gräsbeck syndrome) wrong with her, and requires to be jabbed with a syringe of Vit B12 at regular intervals, possibly for life. However, the impact of this vitamin is stunning - our gentle wee dog is gaining weight and being a right little minx!
She is also on heat so being extra feisty of course.
And you see, this is so much more important than money. This is a life, a creature entirely reliant on us humans to keep her healthy and happy.
If only more people would think about lives and less about bank balances . . .
I have a deeply unpleasant situation to deal with at the moment, and that is what has triggered these thoughts. In this 'situation' the profit of a large company is being set firmly ahead of the cultural history and tradition of real people, and it sickens me. I shall plough on, but I doubt I will win.
In other news, the wee sausage (smaller of our two sibling dogs) has some relatively rare thingy
(Imerslund-Gräsbeck syndrome) wrong with her, and requires to be jabbed with a syringe of Vit B12 at regular intervals, possibly for life. However, the impact of this vitamin is stunning - our gentle wee dog is gaining weight and being a right little minx!
She is also on heat so being extra feisty of course.
And you see, this is so much more important than money. This is a life, a creature entirely reliant on us humans to keep her healthy and happy.
If only more people would think about lives and less about bank balances . . .
Sunday, 2 April 2017
Returning.
That is coming back, retracing steps or that sort of thing. I've been away from this blog for no real reason, it just happened.
So today I am returning to it.
And musing on the lemmingness of people - all in a line heading south after, presumably, all being in a line heading north earlier on.
Today was fine, you see, good weather and all that. So the day trippers tripped up here for the day. I imagine Luss was hotching with people, I was far too antisocial to go and look, and that the various cruisers and stuff were doing good trade.
I took the dogs down to the gates this afternoon, and that is when I met the traffic, but there was no-one there and we had a lovely solitary walk.
So today I am returning to it.
And musing on the lemmingness of people - all in a line heading south after, presumably, all being in a line heading north earlier on.
Today was fine, you see, good weather and all that. So the day trippers tripped up here for the day. I imagine Luss was hotching with people, I was far too antisocial to go and look, and that the various cruisers and stuff were doing good trade.
I took the dogs down to the gates this afternoon, and that is when I met the traffic, but there was no-one there and we had a lovely solitary walk.
Friday, 22 April 2016
Sometimes stepping out is good.
By stepping out I refer to various things . . . whilst walking, in your opinions, or out of your comfort zone!
I managed one and three today, and I am not displeased with this. I also managed two, in a different context, and am somewhat bemused to have someone argue with me, especially as he was to some degree saying what I was saying in different words! But I was still wrong and he was right apparently.
Which leads to another thought on comfort zones and stepping out of them. Perhaps if we stopped looking always inwards and down at our feet, we would see more of the world around us, and of other peoples' smiles? Worth a try maybe?
I managed one and three today, and I am not displeased with this. I also managed two, in a different context, and am somewhat bemused to have someone argue with me, especially as he was to some degree saying what I was saying in different words! But I was still wrong and he was right apparently.
Which leads to another thought on comfort zones and stepping out of them. Perhaps if we stopped looking always inwards and down at our feet, we would see more of the world around us, and of other peoples' smiles? Worth a try maybe?
Tuesday, 19 April 2016
There is a huge chasm there.
Where? Right there!
Mmm . . . my reader has every right to wonder what on earth I am waffling about. It is actually something very simple, I am on about the gap between the ideal, the dream, the desired - and reality. This gap can be summed up thus:
I want to meet people, let us enter cloud cuckoo land, and assume I want to meet a decent man. I am out in place X, or place Y, and see a man walking in such a way that our paths will cross. In the ideal world, we meet, chat, go for coffee, have dinner, and the sex is fabulous. Or something like that.
In the real world, I change where I am walking so that our paths do not cross. And I go home to my dreams.
And that, dear reader, is not only the gap in my life, but in so many aspects of life as a whole. And I have no idea how to resolve it!
Mmm . . . my reader has every right to wonder what on earth I am waffling about. It is actually something very simple, I am on about the gap between the ideal, the dream, the desired - and reality. This gap can be summed up thus:
I want to meet people, let us enter cloud cuckoo land, and assume I want to meet a decent man. I am out in place X, or place Y, and see a man walking in such a way that our paths will cross. In the ideal world, we meet, chat, go for coffee, have dinner, and the sex is fabulous. Or something like that.
In the real world, I change where I am walking so that our paths do not cross. And I go home to my dreams.
And that, dear reader, is not only the gap in my life, but in so many aspects of life as a whole. And I have no idea how to resolve it!
Sunday, 17 April 2016
There are days.
Whilst it seems an almost unnecessary comment, days being days and following one from another as they do, it is worth noting that not all days are equal.
Some days are clear, and the sound of them is pure, like a boy treble.
Some days are warm, and glow with the deep gold of firelight.
Some days are fast, blurred as the scene from an express train window, and you reach the evening exhausted but not where you were when you awoke.
Some days are slow, leisurely in their approach, and wind down to no particular conclusion.
Some days are grey, featureless and misty, like shopping for offal in drizzle.
Some days are cold, and sharp, and have icicles and snowflakes waiting to catch you unawares.
Some days are golden, with the light of liquid luck to guide your steps.
And some days are leaden and dark, midnight at dawn and midday and when the evening sun sets.
And so, you see, not all days are the same at all.
Some days are clear, and the sound of them is pure, like a boy treble.
Some days are warm, and glow with the deep gold of firelight.
Some days are fast, blurred as the scene from an express train window, and you reach the evening exhausted but not where you were when you awoke.
Some days are slow, leisurely in their approach, and wind down to no particular conclusion.
Some days are grey, featureless and misty, like shopping for offal in drizzle.
Some days are cold, and sharp, and have icicles and snowflakes waiting to catch you unawares.
Some days are golden, with the light of liquid luck to guide your steps.
And some days are leaden and dark, midnight at dawn and midday and when the evening sun sets.
And so, you see, not all days are the same at all.
Wednesday, 13 April 2016
I really rather enjoy eating cheese.
I have, for much of my life, loved cheese. All sorts of cheese, Lancashire, Blue Stilton, Stinking Bishop . . .
Then I started getting more and more nasty migraines, and by chance realised that they were triggered, in part, by cheese.
Calamity.
Now I still eat some now and then, but so often I pay by being ill the next day.
I ate cheese yesterday.
I have felt yuck all day today as a result.
Then I started getting more and more nasty migraines, and by chance realised that they were triggered, in part, by cheese.
Calamity.
Now I still eat some now and then, but so often I pay by being ill the next day.
I ate cheese yesterday.
I have felt yuck all day today as a result.
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