It is about to turn 6 am here in England. There is an unusual calmness ( of late) outside. The air is warm. The dog snores gently and my first coffee of the day has been drunk. So far so good, as ‘ notable’ has many layers. One can only hope for the best, that the day will go smoothly, Perhaps ‘nothing notable’ is the safest bet, for today.
My heart feels heavy as the tragedy of the London bound Air India flight fills my mind. The shock, the sadness and grief in that part of the world will be palpable.
Life will go on, but the world has stopped spinning for the families, friends, the loved ones of the perished souls.
The one sole survivor, the young man who walked away, my thoughts turn to him. Despite having just a few visible cuts and scratches, his emotions will surely be running deep….
I love Spring, but I also like those days in January when things begin to kick off. No human needed for the New Year to get up and running.
How my heart lifts at the sighting of the first snowdrop. I can barely contain my excitement.
A sprinkling of crocus here, a spread of aconites there…and then there are ……Yikes! What are they called? Their name escapes me… Catkin, yes, catkins. Phew!
Then cut to Spring itself. The natural world is energised with new life. The sun has some warmth in it. The evenings are becoming lighter. The birds are louder and more vocal as they seek a mate. The grass begins growing and the trees, as ever late to the game, radiate what’s to come. The bursts of colour on display are a joy to behold.
It’s the energy I find exciting. So much to observe and appreciate.
Across the world luxury is going to mean something different to everyone. A private jet? Or maybe clean drinking water?
But the word FREEDOM begged to be written for my response.
Today I chose to copy a poem by W H Davies, a Welsh poet and wanderer. His book The Autobiography of a Super-tramp is interesting.
At this moment I am sitting on the sofa with the dog asleep at my side. The sky is overcast and it’s blowing a gale. The french windows are securely open wide. The fresh air rushes in and out taking light billowing curtains with it. A blackbird and a few pigeons are finishing up their breakfast and the squirrel is digging up some potted chives to hide his stash- word is squirrels forget where they put 50% of their swag. Who’d have thought it?
I’ll brew fresh coffee now and exercise some remaining grey matter before anything else on my list of ‘ things to do, if I want to’. This my friend is luxury!
Edit; the wind blew away most of the clouds, the dog awoke and went outside to catch some sun…
It has been a long time coming, this kind of peace.
I’ve enjoyed reading what others in my newly-found WordPress family have had to say is their idea of luxury.
If you had to change your name, what would your new name be?
On socials I go by Ella, which is a pretty name I think. Can’t remember the moment I chose it…Just happened, I reckon.
But today I want to tell you how one of my dogs got his name.
Soooo, I’m living and working in Southern India, with a well-paid job and a super lifestyle…and then it all goes to hell in a handcart when I fall in love with a four-legged broken soul, called Tony.
I leave the job and he and I move out of my lux accommodation into a sweet little house in a village called Palavakkam. There’s no AC with generator back-up, just ceiling fans….the power cuts are notorious. But that’s another story. In fact there are lots of other stories.
Without paid employment, my once a week helping the Blue Cross of India stint became full time. Their ABC ( Animal Birth Control) programme was quite something.
The job entailed daily visiting a chosen area to collect up to twenty street dogs ( I think, can’t remember exactly how many, twenty plus, maybe) They would be taken back to the centre. Boys and girls separated, given a health check, a rabies shot and then the op) The boys recovered faster, but when they were all fit we took them back to exactly where we had found them, on another day. They had one ear clipped( just a little) so they could be identified on the street as having had the procedure.
This helped to keep the population of street dogs down. I was informed once upon a time they would be thrown live down wells. Today around the world horrible methods are still used.
One night after work the van dropped me at the end of my road and I walked to my house in tears. Nothing unusual there, the daily stress and distress needed to manifest somehow. It broke my heart to see so many animals in such bad shape, on a daily basis.
Dusk was falling but ahead of me I could see a tiny pup hanging out with a group of grown dogs. His coat was a mess and probably didn’t feel great but his spirit was alive and kicking.
I picked him up and asked around if anyone knew where he came from, if by any chance he did at all. A lady told me he had been ‘ thrown over the wall, by that house there’. To make sure I was doing everything correctly as far as the charity and my conscience were concerned I approached the gates of the property, to ask about the ownership of the pup- happily snoozing on my arms.
In no uncertain terms I was assured his welfare was not their concern.
I took him home ( lovely story to be told here, another day) My ‘big dog’ Tony took it on the chin and allowed the pup to enter.
Plan A was to take Pup to the Blue Cross centre to be cared for and hopefully rehomed. But if you know me you’ll know I wasn’t going to be able to part with him easily.
My ex workmate and friend Mary often came to visit. The pup would tug at the edges of her sari. She was kind, we laughed, he was naughty. But it was okay.
So, I had this dilemma. What to do about Pup?
I had tentative plans about returning to the UK. My work visa would run out eventually and although I know it could have ‘ been arranged ‘ ( many things can be arranged in India- no disrespect meant to the country or government workers, I hasten to add!) I didn’t really want to put anyone in that position, to do me that favour. A pity really, under different circumstances I would have been happy to stay there.
Sister Mary, Mary ( a native of Bangalore) had been a co-worker, an amazing loyal friend with a sense of humour I adored. She became everything to me and still is..good friend, sister, mother, daughter, everything.
When she knew I was troubled about the future of Pup, she said she would take him as her own. A visit was arranged and off we went to meet her family. It was then I thought, yes, she a devout catholic was Mary ….He would be Joseph..Joe.
Pup had a fabulous time, running around, connecting with everyone and being adorable….and then ..he ran to me, looked me straight in the face and said ‘ that was great, can we go home now?’! Joe was going nowhere without me.
I brought him to the UK, with Tony, in October 2005 and he lived a long and happy life.
After thought ..
Dr. Chinny who ran the Blue Cross of India in Chennai offered me a gig in the back end of beyond helping street dogs. I turned it down as I believed my family at some stage may need me and I couldn’t get back to the UK quickly. They never did….
The one I favour the most is already in existence. 70% Smooth Dark Chocolate made by Divine.
And what’s not to love about it? The company is co-owned by a Ghanian farmers cooperative and German family business, a Fair trade product, the ingredients are ethically sourced, without palm oil or soya, it’s good for you ( yes, in moderation, of course!) with antioxidants and minerals found purely in the cocoa bean, it has less sugar than milk chocolate, is naturally dairy free…..And it tastes great!
Word on the street is the Divine 70% Dark Chocolate with Mint Crisp is lush, but I’ve not tried it yet
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