Poppy

Oh Sweet Poppy!  You augur the coming of kinder climes.  I can almost feel the light mild breeze,  The clouds sweeping by overhead, the sun sporadically showing itself, throwing off a little heat.  Dear Poppy, I long to see you back in our garden again this summer.  Til then, my friend, adieu

 

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a foxy story

Early one morning during one of the summer months when all the house was asleep except myself I went out into the garden to look around and lo and behold a fox came across the field.  He (maybe she) didn’t stop until he was right up to me.  I panicked of course and found the first thing I could find which happened to be a ladder and put it between me and him for some sort of protection.  He wasn’t afraid of me  in the slightest.  On the contrary, he was almost cheeky or maybe emboldened by starvation or thirst or some ailment.  He kept on coming at me and I kept on poking him with the ladder,  scared out of my wits.  A wild animal attacking me!!!

Anyway along came Sweep, the dog, and that fairly got the fox moving.  He sped off and I quickly took a hold to sweep (who hadn’t even noticed the fox) and brought him in the other direction.  That was it.  I never laid eyes on him again.  I do hope he got something to eat or drink or that he got better of whatever it was that was bothering him.

Although I didn’t take this photo it reminds me of him.  He almost looked like he could be a house pet.

Foxes prey on Good Lifers

slate plant holder

I just came across this photo right now and thought it deserved to be put out there.  Made by Mauricio, it’s one of two.  The other went all the way to Chile over to his mother.   This photo was taken when it was recently made but its still out in our patio 6 or 7 years later and looks almost as new.  (It could do with a little cleaning!!!)

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absence makes the heart grow fonder

Three weeks has been long enough.  It was fine in the beginning because it was something different not having you around but that started to lose its power.  The whole house is in an uproar.  You’d better get home quick.

The frying pan is beginning to burn everything.  I guess it misses your sunny-side-up eggs.  There is a gap between one side of the bed and the other and it’s getting vaster and vaster each day forming a bottomless pit.  The kettle gave up whistling about a week ago as if to say “what’s the point”.  The fire is a little dull in itself and refuses to give warmth to the house.  The computer and photocopier have started an all-out strike.  That once eye-catching coffee table in the living room has lost its lustre.  The cats are shedding theirs hairs at an enormous rate for the feeling of loss.  Sweepy, even though he doesn’t have a tail, would not be wagging it anyway.  He just sits and moans on his pillow from morning to night.  Miguel drags his feet to and from school every day and seems to  have become very sullen.  The sound system must have joined the computer in its strike as it just doles out dreariness and drudgery,  and one would be better off not to even go near it.   The workshop is like a disaster area,  the cold and misery has penetrated its walls, even the slate is missing your love and attention.

There’s a woman in the house and she feels like a child, waiting by the phone, checking her emails every hour for news from over there, counting the days until you come back, trying to fill in her days with chores to keep her busy but it isn’t working.  You’ll just simply have to get home soon.  Next Monday is too far away.

honour and duty bound

It’s a serious business, this being told a secret and then being told, upon peril of your life, not to reveal it to a living soul.  It puts a huge weight on one’s shoulder.

Not that anyone has told me a secret that I must guard viciously.  No, I’m completely without that ball and chain around my neck.  I don’t have to look the other way when I see someone coming towards me who might detect that I’m hiding something from them.  I can hold my head up and look them straight in the eye.

But it must be awkward at times, holding this precious information tightly and securely within yourself.  Just say, for arguments sake, that a friend or an acquaintance has told you that he/she is having an affair and you know his or her partner who you meet quite often.  Wouldn’t it be kind of weird not being able to tell him/her that the other half is sleeping with someone else?  Not that I’d know about this awkwardness.   I’m not weighed down, not me.

So if any of you friends out there feel like sharing a secret with me, I’m sure you won’t hesitate to do so after reading this post!!

yours truly