Learn From Your Dog

photo from FreeDigitalPhotos.net Admin



I got this by email, was impressed and thought it worth sharing.


Remember, if a dog was the teacher you would learn things like:

When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.

Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.

Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure Ecstasy.

Take naps.

Stretch before rising.

Run, romp, and play daily.

Thrive on attention and let people touch you.

Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.

On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass.

On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree

When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.

Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.

Be loyal.

Never pretend to be something you're not.

If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.

When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by, and nuzzle them gently.

ENJOY EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY!

The Waiting is Over

It feels like we have been waiting since the year dot.  Actually it's nearly 7 weeks since the consultant told my son he should have an operation to remove a tumour from his head within a month. And that was after about 10 months of waiting for appointments, then for tests, then for results - all to try and find out why one side of his body and limbs were gradually losing sensation. Today he got a date to be admitted to hospital - Wednesday June 1st. And tomorrow morning we take him for the pre-op assessment. I am praying it will all turn out alright.

Here's another pic of Exbury Gardens to remind us of the good things in life that are always there, even through the dark times.

Writing and Walking

Sod's law says that as soon as I need time off for family things, I get inundated with private requests at Constant Content. It's great for financial reasons, not so good for others. Some of the content needed is frankly really boring. It's also hard figuring out how to include all the keywords required and often saying the same thing in a different way over and over again. So I've decided to intersperse it with writing what I enjoy. Blogging has taken a back seat for a while, but here I am again.

My hubby was told by his GP to take more exercise, so I've also had to find time to go walking with him. This is not a problem because I love it, even if I then have to burn the midnight oil to get the work finished.

About three weeks ago, we trekked around Hengistbury Head, and that time I took my camera. What was really striking on this walk was the glorious golden gorse. 

The next day we collected my granddaughter and brought her to stay with us for a week. One day we met friends at Exbury gardens and she fell in love with their dog.

The gardens were in full bloom and every corner we turned seemed to offer a new and wonderful treat for the eyes.

Last Wednesday we did a local walk on a common full of gorse, but there were very few of its gorgeous flowers left to brighten the area. On Saturday we parked at Studland and walked out to the Old Harry Rocks, where we found a meadow full of beautiful wild flowers. Next time I will take my camera because the coastal views were stunning.

A Poem About Stuff

I'm hard put to find time for anything other than clearing my backlog of work at the moment.  Blogging has, unfortunately, slipped right down the to do list.  Trying to stop thinking about work over a snack lunch, I started browsing Pam Ayres poems in her anthology, The Works.  I found one that describes my house and life at the moment an thought I'd share it with you quickly. Fortunately Google found it on another blog for me so I could copy a bit  and direct you there to read the rest if you wish.  Here goes:

Heaps of Stuff

How I wish that I was tidy
How I wish that I was neat
How I wish I was methodical
Like others down our street.
I tried to stem the rising tide
I tried to hold it back
But I have been the victim
Of a heap of stuff attack.

Yes, heaps of stuff come creeping,
They clutter up the hall.
And heaps of stuff are softly
Climbing halfway up the wall.
At each end of the staircase
Is a giant heap, a stack;
One to carry up the stairs
And one to carry back.

In a heap of stuff invasion
They settle everywhere —
They grovel on the lino
They tower on the chair.
You're searching for a jacket,
'Is it in here?' you shout,
And, opening the cupboard door,
A heap of stuff falls out.

Read the last four stanzas here.