Crazy Day, Sunday.

Sunday walk, five mile through fields. Today they were all full of ewes, each field with two rams with colour coded straddles strapped to their breasts, to ensure which had done their business with the ewes; all of which looked a bit complacent and unimpressed. So did the rams I have to say. Most were laid prone, asleep on the grass. None of the ewes evidenced a colour code on their rears, which, in human employment terms, would be a bit challenging – sacking comes to mind.

Well – let’s give the Rams a chance here. After all the ewes DO have to show a BIT of interest don’t they, and IF they haven’t come into season – god Forbid, the rams haven’t a chance in hell to do their business. Though – let’s face it – they’ll be the ones blamed if there aren’t any lambs about next year. They’ll be next year’s chops – for the chop that is.

So, Beth was on her lead a lot, through ALL the fields up to the woodlands. Released here to her woodland world. This, her total ecstasy, a new world of sun rays, a world glistening with the wetness of leaves and grass, flowers, ground wet from the rainfall of last night, hers to spring through in total joy, following fresh and new smells.

We feel her joy and wonder as she races around the woodland chasing aromas we don’t feel. But, this is so lovely. such a place to be.

DSCN3520

Scribbling giddy biddy

How I feel at the moment. At last I accept ‘Biddy’ status, having looked up Cumbrian slang – and yes, ‘ biddy’ is an old woman. So – I have to accept I am old.

I don’t feel old, despite looking after my gorgeous grandchildren aged 6 and 9yrs, and welcoming my neighbour’s 9 year-old niece into my home and listening to her confident view of the world, where she corrected her Aunt on a number of counts. [Her Aunt is a Staff nurse at an A&E section in a very busy hospital] – I now feel that after so many years of life on earth, I’ve learned nothing.  In my favour, nor has her aunt. But, that’s OK. Life is a learning process whatever age you are. That much I’ve learned.

Today’s happiness has been to be walking, running, throwing balls over the Strays, over the fields, and through the woods of Harrogate and the Crimple Valley with my dog, Beth.  What more can life, ‘to be’ be.

so, my new website, when it has been sorted, will be as the Scribbling Giddy Biddy – because, after so many years of life on earth, this is what I want to be, – a persona that makes me laugh. Laughter is the greatest relief of stress, and the greatest and joyful act. My life with Jim and Beth is full of laughter, – what more can I want in life. What more can anyone want.

Our life is simple, growing our own fruit and veg on our allotment, inviting insects in through wild flowers and a moorland patch, walking miles each day with our Springer SpanielXBorder Collie, Beth, and following folk music, [mainly Scottish – though Gordie MacKeenan from St Rupert Islands, Canada, was brilliant, and Runrig – Oh! to miss their Final Mile – we did go to Manchester to hear them.

In the middle of harvesting from the allotment – for autumn and winter. Busy time of year. Life is the most beautiful experience. DSCN2747.jpg

 

 

Indie publishing

Looking into this seriously after reading ‘The Indie Author Mindset’ by Adam Croft, which advises how changing the way you look at publishing can determine the degree of success. Interesting perspective, and, the author talks a lot of sense. DSCN3937

So – time to take the leap.

The Vladimir Circus has arrived.

at Oatlands Rec. Harrogate.

Tonight walking Beth on her 9 o’clock, last walk of the day, our circuit of the Rec was filling with vehicles pulling large caravans. Jim’s total excitement when he saw a ‘Do’nuts’ sign, Beth’s excitement that NOW life begins, so many people to fall at their feet and be adored. The next few days could be interesting at 7am when we walk Beth, and 9 pm, for her last walk of the day.  Gone will be the lads who sit at the only available bench like old men, smoking, whatever they smoke, but it smells a bit like cannabis [as it was called in my day] – though I don’t know what it smells like – other than the familiar smell that hung over Glastonbury the year I drove there with my gorgeous daughter, years ago. Beth falls at their feet, inhaling whatever they are smoking, before returning home to her last biscuit of the day, Chamomile, which settles and comforts her.

Tonight the young lads with their cannabis smoke weren’t there. Heck.  Will Beth sleep? She has eaten her Chamomile biscuit, and is now flat out, asleep in her bed.

Tomorrow morning holds total excitement on the Rec. Artistes arriving through the night, performers practising their routines, and Beth, loving every minute, falling at their feet, persuading them to ‘only’ tickle her tummy.  What more can a dog want, she looks lovingly up into their eyes.  Who wouldn’t, Who couldn’t?

She sleeps the dreams of dogs with her toys next to her.

When you’ve fewer years left

So now I’m 71.  I am just about beginning to think that the years ahead of me are fewer than those behind.  And so, where have they gone, what have I done with them.  All those years behind me.  My God!!! Where have they gone, dissipated, evaporated into a nothingness of vapourized memories; which, according to statistics will be totally lost through age related forms of dementia and/or Alzheimer’s disease.  MY GOD – Why worry. Just go ahead and enjoy what remains of the rest of my life.

I keep trying to.  But the world keeps invading my lovely and gorgeous peaceful world with Jim, my husband, and Beth my most wonderful, uplifting and happy SpringerXBorder Collie Beth. Happiness is out walking through the Crimple Valley, or anywhere, with those two.  What more can bliss be?

My list of places I want to visit is slowly dissipating – I no way want to visit places in danger of attack by sad people, misguided through their fanatical view of their religion, or other people angered to destruction by total dismay of life; or even face the thought of the danger of simply being there, airports for example.

Who would want, or even think of causing mayhem by blowing themselves up [so sad to think of such a terrible thing to do], in the lovely and lonely valley I walk through with my Beth. It simply wouldn’t be news worth reporting – and is the epitome of peace, which is worlds away from life known in our News Reporting World.

So – Do I really want to go to Paris, to visit the galleries and see the works of art I love so dearly.  do I really want to go to Barcelona or Madrid or Vienna – to see works created by artists – when I have bliss on my doorstep – in the form of nature – Galsworthy re-created. Yes – it would be lovely – to feel the warmth of the sun as well, but we have the internet.  Not quite the same as seeing the real thing.  But I have my allotment, and the flowers there, and the sweet peas, at last, are flowering in abundance. So beautiful, with heady perfume. What more from life but the heady perfume of growing flowers, my Jim by my side and Beth, my dog.  Life to perfection.DSCN3520 (1)