It’s been a month of over-caffeinated thoughts and patiently waiting. I was kidding about being patient. The big medical event is slowly becoming more “real” with the Squire requiring additional tests and medical appointments this month. Those medical folk and the Squires donor are doing their darndest to give him another shot at life, so I need to be patient. We both do. Then there are those other days when we two-finger salute the world in frustration and our equilibrium slowly regained with a delectable treat. We’ve been conditioned with a treat for good behaviour most of our lives; why ruin a winning formula?
Ferrari brain with bicycle brakes
Some days it’s not a lack of subject matter that’s been the concern; it’s been my lack of concentration and narrowing my raging thoughts. It would’ve been relatively easy, too easy, to give up on blogging. For a while, I’ve doubted my ability to form sentences then paragraphs. I’ve sat and stared at a blank screen, then typed and deleted and repeated the first two steps more times than I like to admit. It’s like being a recycled blogging virgin.
Then I concluded my regular goings-on would have to do.
As we all know, over time, there will be more gritty subjects to share or not. A small part of me enjoys the security of the mundane, the repetitive activities such as grocery shopping on a Monday morning and fast travelling with my cycle though not to pick up our groceries as I have too many treats to buy. Then there are the interactions with nature and bouts of bird [feather variety] stalking and everything in between, like my one-sided relationship with an overly cuddly kunekune pig nicknamed Twiggy. I want to say a big thank you very much to all of you for keeping me slightly more sane and grounded than usual. Now, let’s get on with what’s been happening.
Twiggy’s five and never a Sunday roast
From a distance, I could faintly hear the sound of an early afternoon siesta. Crikey girl, that’s not a very ladylike sound. Sure enough, the old girl was snoring happily on the front lawn. I was seriously impressed as no matter how much coaxing from the fence, I did, even with a tempting large apple. Twiggy was not budging. Enviously I thought if only I could sleep so soundly.
Oh well, there was going to be no dialogue between us today; adjusting to this reality, I carried on biking. Down another road further along and onto more civilization as in busier roads then suburbia and towards the sound of waves and not snoring and another few kilometres I am where I started. At home. That’s a regular circuit of approximately 20 odd kms. In summer and a low tide, I would’ve stayed longer, there was a coolish westerly wind, and I was becoming more eager to get home to a warm cuppa.
You will be pleased to know that I have finally had a chat with a human family member of Twiggy’s who ventured to their letterbox as I was capturing her doing piggy things, like sleeping. She happily informed me that Twiggy recently turned five and never to more than a much-loved part of the extended family.