Author: Joey Jones

Happily owned and trained by the rescue dog I adore. Enjoying and grateful for a peaceful life at long last. In England. She/her.

Once upon a Time

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What book could you read over and over again?

Going from an avid reader and devouring books, I became a non-reader. It happened organically, too. It wasn’t planned. So, the idea I may re-read something? Nah, that’s not going to happen anytime soon.

My lifestyle has predicted I would not be granted the luxury of being a hoarder, should I wish to be one.

I’ve culled my book collection so many times, I’ve lost count. Leaving me a small pile of read and unread.

Amongst the ‘yet to read’ is a book given to me at Christmas by a thoughtful and lovely friend- Thank you, Trish. Maybe she ( a reader)  thought the subject would get me back into it? And she would be right, except for one thing, I wondered if the story would make me cry.

If a movie starts and I get the feeling it won’t end well for the animal prominently portrayed, I will turn it off immediately. It’s just who I am.

The book I have at the very top of the list to begin is The Wisdom Of Old Dogs. Lessons in life, love, and friendship. By Elli H Radinger.

Ironically, I thought i could get back into reading when Patch was no longer sharing my life, I would have all those extra hours in my day, not walking with him. But it maybe the pages would be wet with tears?.

‘Friendship is Magic’

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If you could be a character from a book or film, who would you be? Why?

If I could be any character, I’d pick Pinkie Pie from My Little Pony. She’s basically joy with hooves-baking cupcakes, throwing parties, and occasionally defying the laws of physics just because it’s Tuesday. 


She’s the pony who can turn a disaster into a dance number, and honestly, that feels like a life skill worth borrowing. If I’m going to be anyone, let me be the one with the party cannon and the unshakeable belief that everything is better with sprinkles.

Charles Bukowski

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What animals make the best/worst pets?

You may have read (thank you for stopping by) in my posts that I share my life with Patch-the dog. But I also love cats. Fact is I’m a total animal lover.

What follows is a light, gentle poem by quite an interesting character who grew up in Los Angeles …

My Cats

I know. I know.
they are limited, have different
needs and
concerns.

but I watch and learn from them.
I like the little they know,
which is so
much.

they complain but never
worry,
they walk with a surprising dignity.
they sleep with a direct simplicity that
humans just can’t
understand.

their eyes are more
beautiful than our eyes.
and they can sleep 20 hours
a day
without
hesitation or
remorse.

when I am feeling
low
all I have to do is
watch my cats
and my
courage
returns.

I study these
creatures.

they are my
teachers.

Charles Bukowski (1920~1994)

Giving your time

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What job would you do for free?

Walking the dog/s of folk who need some help, I would happily do,  but there are several pet service businesses around here. If word got out, I was doing for free, I’d be lynched, I’m sure.

In the past I’ve worked in charity shops, and enjoyed that. Especially when I get to do the window display. Years back I worked at an Oxfam shop ( some time ago dubious behaviour by outreach workers was reported, though. Which is shameful)

There are several local food banks. I have already thought about asking them if they need an extra pair of hands.

Or maybe a hospital visitor. I am sure there are people who have no one close by to drop by, say hello, and hopefully  cheer up a little?

I think if we put our minds to it, we could all find a little something to do to make the world a better place.

Khalil Gabrin

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And a youth said, Speak to us of Friendship.
    And he answered, saying:
    Your friend is your needs answered.
    He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving.
    And he is your board and your fireside.
    For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace.

    When your friend speaks his mind you fear not the “nay” in your own mind, nor do you withhold the “ay.”
    And when he is silent your heart ceases not to listen to his heart;
    For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed.
    When you part from your friend, you grieve not;
    For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.
    And let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit.
    For love that seeks aught but the disclosure of its own mystery is not love but a net cast forth: and only the unprofitable is caught.

    And let your best be for your friend.
    If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also.
    For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill?
    Seek him always with hours to live.
    For it is his to fill your need but not your emptiness.
    And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.
    For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

Khalil Gibran (1883~1932)

From The Prophet  (1923).



Foiled

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What Olympic sports do you enjoy watching the most?

Fencing is televised but not on any channel I have. There are many production challenges, and it is difficult to follow, so maybe why it’s not more accessible.

Technology will soon be broadly stepping in, and before long, I think it may become a different but more exciting watch for a wider audience.

Hope you don’t mind

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How would you improve your community?

As an outsider to this hood, I can tell you the community has absolutely nailed it. There is nothing I could do or say to improve it.

Instead, as you know, when given the space, I will put the words of others. Several of you have told me you love this poem, as do I. So I’m sure you won’t mind me posting it again..and again..and again 🐦‍⬛

Hope is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –

And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –

I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.

By Emily Dickinson ( 1830~1886)

Keep on dreaming

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How have you adapted to the changes brought on by the Covid-19 pandemic? ****** If it’s all the same to you, WP, I’ll give this DP a miss and use the space for the words of another..

Dreams

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.

By Langston Hughes
(1901~1967)


‘ The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams,’ Eleanor Roosevelt

60 minutes in the life of

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What are your morning rituals? What does the first hour of your day look like?

A gentle breeze kisses my cheek.As I open my eyes, I see the floor-length feather-light billowing curtains part. A ray of sunshine lets itself in.

Stretching like a cat feels good. I rise and slip into a swimsuit, tightening the belt of my robe around my waist. Downstairs freshly brewed coffee sits ready on the marble surface.

Heading outside to the infinity pool, I feel the sun has warmth in it already, but the tiles beneath my feet hold just a hint of a chill.

The tide is out and the beach is quiet.

The water wraps around me, caressing my skin and time stands still.

Hunger pangs arrive, and on the balcony, I find my breakfast laid out. Watermelon juice, and more coffee. Olives, labneh, za’atar, avocado, olive oil, lemon juice, markook, and eggs. Bliss.

The Reality

Patch roughly nudges me awake. It’s still a little dark. It is a lot cold. I get dressed quickly in the first things I can find, pull on a coat, put on a hat, and head out. The End