Well, after a long, crunchy underfoot walk we are back! It was so loud out there; the poplar and willow trees, covered in a dusting of snow, cracked and creaked in an alarming manner, and every crisp paw fall was gunshot loud. But now the beasts are snoring softly, stretching contentedly in their sleep, and peace reigns. Except in my head – my head is loud and crazy, full of timescales and deadlines, pre essay panic, and searching for the words to make coherent sentences. More coffee is definitely needed before I open the books! Must not procrastin…..oh robin in the garden……..green woodpecke……….nope, books!
Eeekkkk just got asked to write a bio; how’s this? ‘What am I passionate about? I am passionate about my freedom; freedom to learn and to live, to grow, to watch the barn owls across my garden, to study the spider as she builds her web – look closely at the markings on her back, the spots and splodges, her sheer perfection. I drink coffee under the full moon and laugh with my sisters from times gone by – I call myself a chaos witch, and yes, I follow that path, although often straying off it and wandering through the shady undergrowth.
But I live for my dogs – these two chaotic, unruly sled dogs that make me laugh, sing and worry; they are my reason for everything. It’s the three of us against the world!’
With my previous module on my degree path – psychology, and the ones before that, the authors of the text books either hadn’t written/published their own books or just kept them out of the syllabus. With philosophy, authors of the OU texts are plugging their own work everywhere. Which suggests that A) ego the size of a small planet B) they have plenty of time spare to concentrate on their own work C) philosophers can talk shit, anyone will publish it, people like me will buy it, and attempt to look clever by understanding someone else’s theories instead of developing their own. Oh look…..a theory……..must write a book based around it, padded out with big, clever words and citing some bearded 17th Century philosopher, who, when read properly, makes a lot of sense. Actually, despite evidence to the contrary, I’m loving the course, it’s just hard going with a stinking cold, and bleary eyes.
Frosty, clear, beautiful and fucking slippy out there. I remained remarkably vertical, but the beasts were slipping nicely along the lane *snigger*. We were out early enough to meet Gertie the Pink, but I guess her grunting, camo wearing owner decided that crossing the road to the cricket pitch for her daily 2 minutes walk was just too treacherous. Or maybe he decided that his thin cotton camo shorts would just be too chilly this morning *shudder (and not from the cold)*! Today is a day of writing, study and dentistry (don’t ask, nervous enough as it is), and lots of coffee and furry hugs (shhhhh don’t warn them that there’ll be a Grab and Hug later 😉 ) but for now – coffee!
Everything was frozen today – even the lane was icy and treacherous, and if the demons were slipping, there seemed little hope for me. But we made it to the fields unscathed. Dogs, generally, seem content with little – food, shelter, attention and a daily walk/sniff around; they require little else from us, and yet, some people still seem to fail on those counts. Do we have a finite capacity for caring? We take this puppy into our homes, care, love and hug it, until it gets to boisterous adolescence, then some people decide they don’t love it anymore, and pass it on. Those small things it requires go by the wayside, we get fed up with caring and loving, and reach that tipping point. I know my friends have an infinite capacity to care – they don’t run out of compassion and love. I know I am preaching to the ones who do this already, but lets try and make 2017 a better year. Let’s face it 2016 was utter shit for a lot of us – let’s make this a proactive year of change. The energy seems good and positive for that. TBH I don’t really know where I’m going with this post, so I think I’ll just shut up now xxx