What is your favorite animal?
In two weeks’ time, it will be a full year since I began this blog. Turning up 356 days straight for the Daily Prompt.
WP, I am pretty sure this is the 3rd time you have asked us our favourite animal
.
Sooo, just to clarify, it’s dogs, dogs, and dogs all the way for me. My old boy Patch? I’d be totally lost without him. My companion in life, my rock.
I am passionate about all animals generally, but something about the brown bear..
In what ways do you communicate online?
It really depends on how the mood of the moment takes me. What it is I need or want to achieve at any given time. Much like the rest of the population, I guess.
There are platforms to catch up with old friends, to go to for a smile, for information or advice.
But WordPress is my happy place. Tackling the DP, reading my favourite bloggers’ posts, exchanging a few comments, and finding new writers whose style I understand, it’s all here.
Thank you WP for the space and fellow bloggers and buddies for turning up day after day…. and being you.
Think back on your most memorable road trip.
OK. Let’s get this out there. I’m going to tell you about a road trip in a year, probably before your parents were born. There it is. Strange but true, lol. In our defence, we were youngsters at the time.
There were eight of us in three Kombi vans, 4 girls, 4 boys and a little kid, a girl.
Over 1800 miles one way. That’s a long ol’ stretch for Brits.
We drove through France and Spain and over to Morocco.
Take it as a given, we had a blast.
I can’t remember at what stage of this 3 month trip it was, but our menfolk, were recruited to work as extras on a movie. £20 a day, not to be sniffed at, back then.
The catch being our beautiful surfing hippy lads went off one day and came back minus their gorgeous flowing locks.
Obvs, we girls were thrilled to each be given a fabulous room in a hotel in Agadir for the duration. What a treat!.
I remember the night the boys came back off set. There were two of us crouched down on the balcony waiting to see the returning buses. To say it freaked us out is an understatement they all looked the same.
The film was March or Die with Gene Hackman and Cathrine Deneuve and Terence Hill and directed by Dick Richards.
Our boys had become French Foreign Legionaires. We had new men.
What snack would you eat right now?
At this moment in time, I’m not in snack-needed-mode, but thank you, WP.
Coming up to 6.30am on a dark cold January morning, two large coffees in, is enough for now.
Patch can’t quite decide if to get up or not, but I think it’s only heading one way and before I know it he will be giving me three minutes to sort myself before he wants out.
Snacks can wait. Maybe later, if I need something salty to fill a gap I will reach for some olives, something sweet, it will be dates.
Snacking can go two ways. It’s relatively nutrious and fills a gap. Regulating sugar levels and providing energy during the lows, or else with a life of its own and becoming addictive, stuffing your body with rubbish.
I simply don’t buy cakes, biscuits, crisps or beige food that will speak to me through the kitchen cupboard door. They will have the upper hand, and I find I’m not happy until I have seen them off. Best I don’t put them in temptations way to start with.
Come up with a crazy business idea.
Oh dear WP!..I just can’t get my ahead around this DP today. There is zero in the tank, so forgive me whilst I go off-piste.
Back in time, there were discrepancies about the original author of this poem Today, historians and librarians give credit to British born American Edgar A. Guest ( 1881-1959)
Keep Going
When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you’re trudging seems all up hill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest if you must—but don’t you quit.
Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As every one of us sometimes learns,
And many a failure turns about
When he might have won had he stuck it out;
Don’t give up, though the pace seems slow—
You may succeed with another blow.
Often the goal is nearer than
It seems to a faint and faltering man,
Often the struggler has given up
When he might have captured the victor’s cup,
And he learned too late, when the night slipped down,
How close he was to the golden crown.
Success is failure turned inside out—
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems afar;
So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit—
It’s when things seem worst that you mustn’t quit.
Describe an item you were incredibly attached to as a youth. What became of it?
My beloved Afghan. Oh, how I loved that coat. Setting off out to the city on cold winter nights, I was totally comfortable, warm, and secure in it.
Then I went away to work a summer season somewhere, and when I came back, my dad’s third wife had cleared out my bedroom and redecorated. That was a shock.
This photo is the nearest I can find. It’s not exactly the same, but you’ll get the idea
What is your mission?
The initial knee-jerk reaction to the DP today was ‘to stay breathing‘. I left it there, wondering how I was going to fill the page. I honestly could think no further. Not often stuck for words, but hey.
Out about with Patch, early doors in nature soon got me thinking a bit more.
Then it became obvious,to keep showing up here each day to do my stuff and read yours.
It’s my happy place. Simple as.
Then out preparing the buffet Round Two for the birds and squirrels it came to mind that this weekend maybe I will unpack a box which has been sealed for some time, with previous writings, scribbles and thoughts, and see what lerks there. Yes! That would be a perfect mission.
It’s funny how being outdoors always kick starts a fruitful thought process.
Where do my fellow bloggers find inspiration? You guys certainly inspire me when my tank is momentarily empty. So thank you for that.
What are your thoughts on the concept of living a very long life?
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
By William Butler Yeats (1865~1939)
What could you do differently?
Change can be a wonderful thing, liberating and empowering or simply downright fun.
It can also be devastating, if you hadn’t planned it.
The DP was about doing things differently, but although that’s not the same as change, they are related. There is a shift involved.
As some of you may have gathered so far, I’m living a little life right now with Patch. Happily going about the day and not wanting to do anything differently.
Change has been my middle name for more years than I care to remember. So when I first read today’s prompt (a sneak peak yesterday) I thought to myself,’ nah, not having it’ no change for me, matey. Not a chance. I’m okay as I am, thanks very much.
So, this morning, Himself let me know he wanted to go out around 4am. I wasn’t bothered. It meant he was sorted for a while.
Opening the door I could see the snow and ice which had been around for a while had gone, and it wasn’t as cold. Mmm, that’s different. He came back in and went straight to his bed, where it was warm, instead of following me back upstairs.
It was bliss getting back into my cosy bed, ( but i do prefer it if my best buddy is next to me) and I knew nothing until gone 8.30am. That was a change I welcomed.
Patch didn’t want his breakfast and was not eager to go out. Not his usual behaviour, I decided to go with it and not worry, there and then.
I put the radio on ( a world waiting to implode,nothing new there) fed the birds, had my breakfast, pottered around a bit, and then sat down next to Patch to do Zen Word, my grey matter work out.
With that done I decided to hand feed him cooked chicken. That way, I’d know if we had an issue or not. But he ate it up and it gave him enough of a boost to start his day.
Outside, His Nibs decided to bypass his regular brief visit to the nearby green space. Instead waiting firmly by the car.
I had a little think where to take him, we get there and someone is in our ( limited) space ( how dare they!) So we went elsewhere, parked up and himself led me to a gate to a field/bridleway we had never been down before. It was lovely. The sun came out, and we blew away a few cobwebs
Why am I telling you all this? Well, there I was thinking beforehand I’d not be doing anything differently this morning and then with a life of its own, it was all change.
( Even the postman thought it would be different to deliver two pieces of mail for two other neighbours through my letterbox, just now)
Amazing to think we are in control
If you had a freeway billboard, what would it say?
‘ I wish for you the life you deserve’
IN THE BOOMER PIGEON HOLE? 
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