What’s the thing you’re most scared to do? What would it take to get you to do it?
In a previous life, I have abseiled and tried paragliding once.
Today, nothing on this Earth would have me handgliding, bungee jumping, mountain climbing, on a zip wire or sky diving. Likewise, being on a submarine or any submersible. Nah, not happening.
What do you complain about the most?
After a short walk this morning, I drove Patch a short distance to one of our favourite walks. As I slowed down for a cattle grid, the most beautiful of Red Kites swooped down in front of us and all but kissed the ground. A haze of amber, and it was gone. What a truly amazing start to this cold, damp, and grey January day.
It’s possible I’ve reached a stage where complaining has ceased altogether and been replaced, not by apathy, but something else.
A slight shake of the head, a tad expelling of breath, a flash of expletives through my brain, or simply nothing at all.
The big picture is bright. I don’t miss much, but I’ve ceased responding to my own detriment.
I will always be a compassionate and empathetic soul. An imploding planet, pathetic world leaders, and the mass suffering of humans and animals will always sadden me deeply.
But for now, self-preservation is crucial.
Witnessing that majestic Red Kite sweep before me this morning was awesome.
What are your favourite sports to watch and play? WP, I’ve got no words of my own for today’s DP. As ever I give this space to another
Invictus
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
By William Ernest Henley (1849~193)
What would you do if you won the lottery?
WP, you have certainly stirred the thoughts, hopes, and dreams of your blogging community today. It’s been good to read everyone’s ideas of where a lottery win would fit into their lives.
Had you asked me last year or 5 years ago, I know my answers would be different. Today, I reckon I know how this would play out.
For two or three days, maybe as long as a week. I wouldn’t tell a soul. No, I take that back. There’s an older lady who has known me all my life. I’d tell her immediately, and she would instinctively know that she would be safe.
Next, I’d call the garage and get 4 new tyres put on my trusted Peugeot.
I’d arrange an appointment ASAP at the local cosmetic dentist to plan new veneers.
We are lucky in the UK to have the NHS, but I would quickly sign up to BUPA, so I was no longer a burden on the system.
My no frills ‘click n collect’ funeral would be paid for in full, immediately.
My new (refurbished) phone now has a crack on the screen and my tablet is tired. I’d like to replace those devices. I don’t need an IPhone.
I think I could get all this sorted relatively quickly.
A visit to Space NK would definetly be on the cards for a few treats plus a bottle of Portrait of a Lady perfume by Frédéric Malle. Something I have lusted after for a very long time.
After the trip into town, I would be tempted to pick up a bottle of Bolly, but probably not as I would need a clear head for a few days. It could wait.
Lastly, I would be scrolling the likes of OnTheMarket.com and WhatCar.com to find a suitable home for us and some nice new wheels.
And then that would be me done. I would carry on my life as usual.
It should go without saying, really, but for those who don’t know me at all, I would be giving much of the winnings away. Once a financial plan was in place to keep us ( Patch n me) secure, I would like to top up on what I’d already and quickly passed on to friends in need and charities I already support.
What books do you want to read?
Over time, Copilot and I have developed a shared language — a climate shaped by the conversations we’ve had. It responds to the rhythms I return to: gentleness before depth, clarity before complexity, metaphor as a way of thinking. It doesn’t know my inner workings; it knows the patterns I’ve shown it, the threads I revisit, the emotional weather I bring.
I’d had The Body Keeps the Score sitting on my shelf for years, unread, and only recently realised that much of it has quietly become outdated. Because Copilot understands my sensibilities so well, I asked for help finding books that speak more accurately — and more kindly — to the realities of past stress.
The intelligence here is collaborative. I bring the sensibility; it brings the structure. Together we’ve built a way of working that feels cumulative rather than transactional — a quiet, evolving archive that makes this reading path feel genuinely tailored.
From that shared language — and from realising that the book long resting on my shelf had aged out of usefulness — came the impulse to look elsewhere, and together we shaped a reading path that feels true to who I am now.
What emerged is a year in four books, each chosen for its emotional climate as much as its content — a seasonal way of reading that honours gentleness, pacing, and the slow deepening of understanding.
❄️Winter — Wintering by Katherine May
A gentle beginning. A book that teaches rest, seasonality, and emotional spaciousness — the perfect winter companion.
🌱 Spring — What Happened to You? by Bruce Perry & Oprah Winfrey
Relational warmth and humane clarity. A soft introduction to how early stress shapes us without overwhelm.
☀️Summer — Anchored by Deb Dana
A grounded guide to understanding and regulating the nervous system. Clear, kind, and deeply practical.
🍂 Autumn — The Deepest Well by Nadine Burke Harris
Depth, evidence, and compassion. A scientifically current exploration of how adversity affects long‑term health.
So I’ll take this reading year gently, choosing what feels right and keeping the pace honest. Patch will steady the rhythm beside me. It’s a small beginning — and enough.
Write about a few of your favourite family traditions…WP we have zero family traditions to write about. Instead, if I may, I will happily give over this space to the words of another. I love this poem
There will come soft rains
(War time)
There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground.
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
And frogs in the pools singing at night,
And wild plum trees in tremulous white,
Robins will wear their feathery fire
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;
And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.
Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree
If mankind perished utterly;
And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,
Would scarcely know that we were gone.
Sara Teasdale (1884~1930)
What do you enjoy doing most in your leisure time? WP, I am hijacking this DP as we’ve written about our lesuire time recently enough. Thank you.
Daffodils
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
William Wordsworth (1770~1850)
Name an attraction or town close to home that you still haven’t got around to visiting.
It is with thanks to Eric’s blog here on WP ( http://www.ericfoltin.com ) that I was reminded I have yet to visit a place in North London that has captured my imagination more than once.
In one of his recent posts, he mentioned something called atlasobcura.com. A fabulous website that suggests places around the world you may be interested in visiting. There are 562 ideas for London alone.
Highgate Cemetery/ Nature reserve. 37 acres of Victorian Gothic architecture and atmosphere with 170.000 interments -graves/urns.
The list of inmates is a long one, and so very impressive, were their accomplishments: Artists, scientists, writers, historians, surgeons, industrialists, furniture makers and engravers, and so many more.
Most of the names I didn’t recognise, but well done them for achieving what they did.
George Michael, Bob Hoskins, and Douglas Adams are there along with Charles Dickens and his family, as is William, Gabriel, and Christina Rossetti 💜
List five things you do for fun.
‘ The simplest pleasures are sometimes the most extraordinary’
Edgar Allan Poe ( 1809~1849) American writer, poet, editor, literary critic.
These days, you would barely notice me having fun.
Writing my blog, walking my dog, being in nature, feeding the birds, decluttering/pottering, exercising grey matter…opening a bottle of wine.
Plenty of fun still to be had in my little world.
If you could make your pet understand one thing, what would it be?
Thanks, WP. I’ve especially enjoyed reading through the DP’s my fellow bloggers have posted today.
If you have gathered anything about me at all, it’s animals and my passion for them, especially dogs. I can’t help myself, something I was clearly born with.
Patch. My companion of the last 5 years. Who is at least 12 and came to share my life after being in 3 previous homes ( or should that read ‘houses’? ) has clearly had a difficult time of it.
What I’d like him to know is I wish he could talk to me about those days instead of keeping it all inside
IN THE BOOMER PIGEON HOLE? 