Category: the daily post

Happy St Andrews Day

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Since I have adopted Scotland as my true home over the past few years, is it any wonder that I am missing the place again already. I do have Scottish relations going way back, so it’s only fair to feel that it’s in my blood. Yes the wee one has settled in here down South for the time being and is behaving as though he can do what he likes along with the sulks and tantrums of the “terrible twos” when he doesn’t get it all his own way.  He will learn that even if you are a Malamute it doesn’t mean you have Carte Blanche to do as you please and house rules have to be followed. With an adopted pup though, there are going to be testing times, but on the whole he is settling well.

But I cannot deny, even though it’s only been a month since we came back that am missing our special part of our Scotland and our friends there and cannot wait to return. Although I know that I would not fare well up there at the moment now that it is so cold. It is cold here too now, suddenly this week, but heard from my friends there it was really cold. When a scot tells you that, then I know I wouldn’t be able to feel my toes for all the winter clothes I have.

Meanwhile friends old and new in Scotland and beyond, of you are doing anything remotely Scottish to celebrate this day, then I raise a glass to you and wish you a Happy St Andrews’ Day and invite you to soak up some of the wonderful culture wherever you may be.

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The Daily Post – Culture

Abandoned Buildings, Inspiration Indeed.

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My inspiration for this post comes from this article in my reader.

After the Final Curtain a post by Cheri Lucas Rowlands which shows some wonderful photographs by Matt Lambros.

I often see whilst perusing social media the shots of ancient places and abandoned buildings throughout our world and curiosity encourages me to take a look.   A part of me thinks that one day I would love to do a tour of such places, but then reality hits and it occurs to me that I don’t think I could cope with the sadness it would bring me.

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You see I have a love of old buildings and architecture in general and have always been able to see the possibilities in a place.  When I was younger, I found that by finding derelict buildings by the road whilst on holiday, churches, schools, old houses. It didn’t matter what the building’s previous use had been.  I always imagined it as a place to make a home.

It really fires the imagination for me, gets the cogs whirring and clicking and excitement builds.  That part of the process I would love.  But then the sadness when it had been left for so very long, I don’t know what effect that would have on my psyche, but I suspect not  a good one.  The fact that it had gone to waste for so many years for whatever reason, war, famine, time, recession and may not be able to be restored to it’s former glory hits home. These buildings, particularly the Theatres and Cinemas were built for the community and so many communities have suffered when these and other public buildings have been closed down.

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I guess that’s why when it came to finding our home, that’s why it was always going to be a doer upper.  It was never going to be a pristine box, with white walls and minimalist fixtures.  Give me a place with character, knocks, grazes, a history and somewhere that speaks to you, pulls at the emotions when you walk in and I am happy.  My place needs to be lived in, that is what makes it home to me.  If I ever came into a lot of money, then it would be one of the first things that I would search for, a lovely old building to breathe new life into. Of all the possible styles it would probably have a Deco feel to it, now that’s a tour I’d be tempted to do which would really inspire me.

The Daily Post – Transformation

Images: Morguefile.com

Never Underestimate It.

9/11/16

Never Underestimate It.

What’s that? I hear you ask….

The effect a dog can have to help you to heal.

I read some time ago about how dogs have helped with PTSD and Depression, I know that having Kato around at my darkest times was probably a lifesaver, even when my partner didn’t know what would help, Kato always seemed to. When my partner was in grief for the loss of his family members and no-one seemed to understand, our boy was there, by his side to get him through each day too. When I was unable to work and ill, he was there for me watching over me, watching over us both, he always knew when we weren’t well and would be especially vigilant until we were better. I will be eternally grateful to him for all that he gave us in his life, the love and support and loyalty. I daren’t hope that we could find that again, so soon after losing him.

I read an article about prisoners caring for shelter dogs, for veterans who feel that they have no-one. The power a dog has to rehabilitate a person is astounding. A transformation can take place in such a short time and the bond that forms is incomparable.

The trauma of the summer will heal in time. We needed the distraction of our trip, we both needed to take time out and think about what we wanted in our future. It was there up on the hill that we decided although we have each other and that is enough. The icing on the cake would be to share our hearts and space with a new furry person, one who needed a new start, for whatever reason. I said that we would know when we found the right one for us, but that we did not need to rush. He kept getting me to look, almost daily. Had he decided that it was time, was he right?

We looked, we made a few phonecalls, sent messages, almost going through the motions, but I didn’t know how we felt. He could not even meet a dog without tears forming, he missed him so much. His buddy, his friend, he felt lost. We missed everything about not having Kato around and it was eating us up. We talked about whether it would be too soon and how he may have felt about us sharing our love. We concluded that he would want us to be happy. Meanwhile no-one even responded to our messages or calls. We thought maybe it wasn’t meant to be after all, maybe we hadn’t found our one yet.

It was a Saturday night, we had our favourite lovely meal and a bottle of wine, he asked me to look, there had been no internet signal all evening, at about 1am, I tried to shut the computer down but there was suddenly a signal. I again looked at the dogs which were up for adoption and rehoming. We had been speaking to a rescue lady the day before, but there were some issues with the owners and he wasn’t sure. I found three dogs which I thought might suit us and called him to look at the pictures. Two of them were Black and White, which I gravitated towards, but this was not just a decision for me. My partner told me that he would prefer someone who did not remind him of our Kato. He wouldn’t want to make comparisons and the new one would have big paws to fill. They were all between 2 and 5 years old. We wanted someone who we would have a chance of a good few years with.

Then there was Rocky.
He was so different from Kato, a blonde bear. Sable & Cream with a smile full of puppy nonsense. He looked as though he had a sweet nature. Such things are important. We barely got any sleep and as I gave him the list of the three numbers. He rang only one. He spoke to the man who was giving him up. We asked if we could visit on the way back South, we asked all about him, all the things that we could think of that we might need to know. We made an arrangement to visit a week later and the man promised that we would be the first to see him.

As the week passed we kept thinking about him. I had saved the photographs to look at them. We anticipated our visit.
Exhausted we travelled back from Scotland had very little sleep and then called to confirm our visit. When we arrived some hours later, my partner wanted to meet him first. He said he wouldn’t get a look in once he had seen me. The man let Rocky in whilst he was upstairs. He came down minutes later to find me sitting on the floor with this beautiful dog sitting next to me, having his ears stroked. Rocky came over to say Hello to him and came back to me for more fuss.

We stayed for hours, he barely left my side, we took him for a walk in the park, off the lead, after all we were with his owner. We were thrilled that he was so good and did not react to other dogs other than to go and say hello and run off again. I was holding the lead so I called him back, he returned to me every time and I praised him. He walked by my side so nicely. We had all decided by the time we left that he would be coming to live with us. As we departed Rocky tried to get into our car to come with us, there and then we knew. Resistance was futile but I had to send him back to his owner, telling him that I would be back next week to see him again. We trusted our instincts when we met him, came home discussing him all the way, I think we’d found our new son.

I was on tenterhooks all week long, hoping that nothing would go wrong. We spoke midweek and all was set, we would have a meal with his family and then we would be bringing him home. When we arrived he was in the garden on a chain, it was pouring with rain and he was soaked. I asked why but did not get an answer and asked for a towel. When the rain died down a bit we all took him for a walk. Otherwise the evening was lovely.

He said his Goodbyes, we will stay in touch and Father and Son can come and visit him when they would like to. It was an eventful drive home, 80 miles with him talking and whining all the way, he wanted to be in the front and climb onto my lap. I could not fit in the back to comfort him, there wasn’t room for me in his bed and I didn’t want to invade his space. We showed him around his new home and garden he was thrilled, I gave him a new soft blanket, he took it into the lounge, we laid it out on the floor and I sat on it with him. He just wanted to be cuddled. We gave him lots to drink and when it was time for bed, we decided that he could sleep in the lounge. Access all areas except the bedroom. We slept with the door open so we could hear him. He layed down to sleep and did not cross the threshold until he needed to go out. But kept coming to the doorway to check on us, he was amazing.

In the morning, when we woke up, he came into the room to see us and climbed up to put his paws on my shoulder, giving me kisses and a hug. The best good morning a new mummy could hope for.

There will be learning, there will be things which test us no doubt, like the tantrum when we put his Halti on, but he settles down. He is after all an Alaskan Malamute and it is in their nature to test, but so far he is proving to be a wonderful addition to the family and our home, full of character and love.

Our healing has begun and so has his. We have been in limbo for a while as we grieved. He is still in our thoughts daily, but I no longer sob nightly at the thought of him, that stopped only days ago. We still speak to him and tell him about his new brother, we are sure that he would have loved him too. I am telling him about the daily nonsense, he would have kept him in check a big brother to watch him.

The little one whom we adopted just three days ago, who is full of love and affection and has already changed his life for the better since his arrival.
He has no desire to sleep in his basket we brought back with him. He would not even climb into it so it has been put away. He was pleased to get a new harness which didn’t make him itch and wears it with a smile. The soft bed was washed three times, but he will not lay on it, not even disguised under his new blanket. He has plenty to say, where he was quiet when we visited him. He is finding his voice. He wakes us up to say Hello and give us kisses but were told he wasn’t very kissy. He kisses me after I feed him to thank me and comes to tell us that he has eaten his meal, for praise. He follows us everywhere, it is early days maybe this is normal to have a new shadow. There is no rush to eat his food, he is not so hungry, no-one will remove it, the cat won’t eat it if he leaves it. It is still there for him. He eats when he is hungry, leaves it and returns to it later, tail wagging that it is still there. He is not hunting for treats all the time, the obsession with food is gone.
We didn’t change his name, just how it was spelled.
Ecstatic that he was given his first toy by his new Dad on the first morning when he awoke he proudly presents it to us many times throughout the day and is happy to share it with us whenever we ask. He will fetch it back and wait for it to be thrown. He will wait when asked to and has wonderful manners. He wants to play, night and day and is chasing his tail for the first time today, dancing around the room as I write this with plenty to say.

We are smiling again, big smiles which are right across our faces, there is laughter and merriment in our house, three days in a row for the first time in months. The light is back on we are all happy, so very happy to be parents again. There are no second thoughts, no doubt or did we do the right thing? We realised that this was meant to be when we sat shattered from the journey, to see my brand new sleeping furry son head on my lap with a beautiful smile, for him to be squarely between the two of us, comforted by the feet of his new Mum and Dad.

The Daily Post – Second Thoughts

 

 

The Winds of Change.

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There has been a distinct shift in our lives the past week or so…

There was bound to be, we have dealt with some more upset caused by this Summer’s issues with our neighbour here, which we are trying to resolve now that we have caught our breath from the journey back from Scotland and have to settle in for the winter here.

The arrival of our new furry son has brought smiles to our faces and  happiness to our hearts again and he is settling in and finding his feet, we are setting the boundaries and so far so good, his re-training in certain things is progressing. The original training has held him in good stead and he is eager to please us.

My partner has reached a big Birthday, which has quite obviously got him thinking about what he does and doesn’t want to do with his life.  So this week marks the end of a voluntary career with the local community spanning around ten years.  During this time, he has worked tirelessly for the benefit of others, often been ostracized for his work and suffered abuse and downright harrassment at times, often from unexpected directions.

He has decided this week that he does not want to be involved in the politics of it any more, to be ruled by it all and last night tendered his resignation upon the advice of a police officer who felt that the neighbourhood situation may calm down if he steps out of the public eye.  He has given it alot of thought and emailed his resignation last night.  I can tell that it was not as easy a decision as he first thought, there is disappointment at mistreatment and lack of support throughout the summer and over the years. But this morning he tells me that he is happier to be out of the game, the back-stabbing and if he is no longer involved, then he does not have to be a part of it.

I guess, he’s just finally had enough.

Today he is quiet, pensive and thoughtful. He is trying to dot the I’s and cross the T’s. Tie up any loose ends, he is dealing with things. I don’t know what he plans to do next, but I am sure that whatever it is, he will throw himself wholeheartedly into it and give it his best shot.  After all, that is the man he is and doubtless I will support him with it in whatever way possible.  We are a team, a partnership and I stand by his side.

15/11/16 I wonder what will come next…  Am I apprehensive? Maybe a little, but change is supposed to be good. I should welcome it, goodness knows we needed so much to change and are fed up with leaving things to chance so why am I unsure?

Last night there was a Supermoon, he encouraged me to make wishes.  Although there were sightings of it the night before, I was waiting to see it but it was hidden by fog last night here.  I wish we had been up on the hill, where I am sure it would have been huge and bright and I would have bathed in it’s glory.  But I did manage to get a good look at it the night before and the dog and I sat in the back garden gazing up in wonder at it.  Will my wishes come to fruition, I hope so but am pleased that some of them already have.

The Daily Post – Waiting Image: Morguefile.com

The Boundary Line – A Poem

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The Boundary Line.

A tight rope marks the boundary line,
Of what is his and what is mine.
There it’s clear for all to see,
A wire runs across to the tree.
A simple border there to define,
A place where you don’t cross the line.
This is a marker there to set,
Just in case he tries to forget.
That there was more given generously,
So as not to cause animosity.
He talked about building a fence,
And when he started this pretence,
Of deciding where his border would go,
Removing the line, well wouldn’t you know.
The best way to do this is to remove the tree,
The one that’s there for all to see.
So he chopped it down and hid it away,
They wouldn’t find it when they came to stay.
But through carelessness, so sure was he
He didn’t count on the things I see.
I walked around and slung over there,
Was my tree stump short and bare.
I took the post with the wire grown through,
And positioned it, in full view.
A reminder of a boundary gone,
And the man who has done me wrong.
For twenty four inches more of land,
So that next to his house, a shed he’ll stand.
He should have asked and not just take,
But he will learn from his mistake.
He does not own, the whole hill,
This place where we are residing still.
We have not gone, are still around.
Here to remain and stand our ground.
They tell us strong fences, good neighbours make.
But he should remember there’s give and take.
Not take and take and just keep on
Until there’s nothing left and it all is gone.
So while he will sit and criticise,
He will do well to remember, that we’ve become wise.
To the stories he tells and the liberties taken,
Which at times, leave us upset and shaken.
But we will fight on and not be deterred,
And timing is right, has not been deferred.
We’ll be “saving our stamps” as he’ll often say
Until our help is required one fine day.
Then we might choose, whether to be
Those friendly helpful people he’ll see.
Or will he arrive at a closed door.
Advantages taken again, no more.
The boundary line has truly been crossed
When into the rubbish it was tossed.
It showed no care and disrespect.
For a friendship now gone due to neglect.


The Daily Post – Trust

Friends old and New and Faith Restored

26/10/16

img_3123On this trip, we have concentrated mainly on refilling the wood supply, not working on the house or garden, we have also in the past week, an extra week which we had not anticipated and I was extremely grateful for, we have ventured out visiting places nearby in the car and exploring our surroundings. In the summer months, we have not done this much as our time is better spent working here.

Being surrounded by woodland, we would not have thought that we could run out. But unfortunately, the woodshed was cleared by thieves whilst we were away and we had to scout for wood, some of our neighbours and new friends have really helped us out, in return, they have some wood which once cured, will be usable. There is plenty around here, except that it is not dry enough to burn or cut in most cases.

One of our new friends who hauled the Bears, both big and small out of a ditch two years ago when they had been run off the road. Has become a friend who is currently stood out the back chopping wood so that we will have a supply again when we return. He has been an absolute godsend to us, since our large logs were too big for me to manage with the small chainsaw, I had no hope of splitting them. I learned to use the chainsaw, having bought all the kit, for safety I was finally allowed to give it a go, only to find that the saw had been wrongly assembled and the chain was totally blunt, which is why it was a complete nightmare. Our friend serviced it for me and I was then able to use it and spent a happy day cutting up logs which was very satisfying.

We also hauled some trees down and put them in the woodshed to cut next time. Give it another chance, hope that they won’t get it in again and that it will still be there next time we return.

The wood pile is now awesome with our combined efforts and in return he will also have wood for the winter. It has been pointed out to us on this trip, that wood is such a valuable commodity and should not be given away lightly. We have been told that the price of firewood when you have to buy it is £100 per tonne. If you leave it laying about, people will make the journey just to take it, thankfully our cottage is not easy to get to, but nevertheless, we are not immune.

One thing we are still torn on is whether we should bring the log burner with us next time to install. It would really keep us warm here, but I guess it depends on my partner’s health and whether we have a horsebox in which to transport it. It probably weighs 20 stone, definitely takes two very strong people to lift it, but would be absolutely wonderful in the living room here. We were talking of furniture this trip, and he almost weakened to a sofa for the lounge, but we really need to fix the roof first. A leaky roof is more important. But I am working on ways to fix that.

Today we got some boards, the guys on a local building site gave them to us, little do they know that we could probably fix the main part of the roof with those, if only I could get up there with the ladders!
We have been given pallets, offered wood offcuts and people have also offered to deliver what we need to us quite often free of charge. The generosity of spirit has often caught us by surprise and right when we least expected it has renewed our faith in humanity.

We have been blessed with the kindness of people around us. Whilst others’ may seek to take advantage and have their own agendas’ if we can keep them at bay, then we will get on here just fine. We are choosing our friends more carefully now, rather than my old approach of taking people at face value until they do you a wrong. We have learned to tread a little more carefully here in Scotland, it is easy to get your wires crossed and an English sense of humour is often misunderstood but generally we have found that if you are good to people, then they are good to you.

The Daily Post – Transformation

Unwelcome Visitors. A frightening experience and a clear message.

Although this was written some months ago, 19/6/16 I felt that it was time to post it, since it was Halloween last night and the battle continues. The Daily Post – Eerie
Who are you?
What makes you think that I am an available vessel which you can enter?
You cannot occupy me. I am not for rent. Go away, Be Gone!

You cannot creep up on me, whilst I sleep, getting past my furry protector and wrap your arms around me, from behind holding me so tightly that I cannot escape. Burning under my skin, undetected stifling my scream so that it cannot escape. My mind screaming out louder and louder as I am brought to my senses by it but where there is no voice, willing it to stop.
You have no right to do this! To haunt my night and my thoughts. Who are you?
How dare you attempt to violate my sleep, leaving me fearful of the dark. You are not welcome here, be gone, vanish to where you came from. Return there, never to visit again, for you are not welcome here.
Get off my back, I will not bend to your will. I will remove myself from this burden, it has no hold over me.
I am not consumed by whatever this is. It does not belong here and whatever this is, is unwelcome.
I am safe, safe from this influence, I am calm. I am protected.
Whatever you are, my fire breathing dragon will set you free.
My body will not hold you, you have no place here within me.
My loved ones have my back, it is not yours to take. There is no room for a monkey on it.
I will not be swallowed up by anger, or hate, or confusion, or sickness.
My mind and body is safe. Not a haven for you, but for me where my good thoughts reign and are given space to grow. The results are beautiful and appreciated, not gnarled twisted and bitter.
There is no room for hate. I do not allow it space in my heart or mind.
Be gone Hate, there is no place for you here.

Whoever you are and whatever you are trying to achieve here, you have failed! Give up, Do not try any more, your attempts will be futile, you will fail every time because I am stronger now, than ever before. You cannot master me.
I choose my master, with care and love he does not control me, he loves, cherishes and supports me. Offering me strength and armour from influences like you.
So be gone, Back from whence you came.
Your cold hands, peeled from me, you cannot enter and take a hold. No fingers entwine around my chest, no embrace around my shoulders, for there is no room for you here. We are not available for rent or occupation. I am in control of my destiny, you have no say or influence.
Demons diminished, spirits be gone. Stop knocking at my window. Your time has passed, there is no room. I am not under attack, you will not win here, I will battle against you. So be gone, you are not welcome.

 

The Hawk

Beautifully dancing, swooping the fields,
Stopping to notice the presence it yields.
Fields of straw over the way,
Looking down upon farmers gathering hay.
Swept upon current a different direction,
Sitting here watching, a time for reflection.
Farmland and country, forest and loch,
Wind so fierce, you reel from the shock.
Rain coming sideways to wash your soul clean.
Such beauty is this, in the place where you dream.
A pair of birds, searching for prey,
On this cold, damp Autumn day.
Ignoring the others, they fly overhead.
I’m filled with awe and with bowed head.
Seagulls over fly in the mist,
Searching for something they pass and they drift.
But with purpose it arrives with no squawk,
The careful hunter, the silent hawk.

The Daily Post – Waiting

Going Native

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The Back Garden…

 

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From the Front Step.

This is our view as we arrived at the cottage. It’s overgrown, more so than last year when we arrived midsummer I think, but it will soon die back again and we won’t have time to clear it all on this short trip.

But we are home.  I wonder how long it will be before we have gone native.  It used to take Kato about 24 hours, before he got used to the sights and sounds around him.  A huge sleep in our house and out to his favourite spot to look at the view, followed by a walk around the perimeter.  Figuring out what had changed whilst he was away.

This time it was just us walking about. We opened the house up and got the luggage in made a cup of coffee and sat out on the step. Looking at his favourite spot.

Suddenly my partner jumped up, come on. It’s time.  He got the ashes we had saved for the purpose and we stood by his favourite spot and said Welcome Home our Darling Boy, you will always have a part of you in Scotland as we scattered them to the wind.  I prayed that he would be happy to be here, that he would now rest wherever he wished to be and that we would still feel his presence whenever we needed to.  We wiped away tears, as we have done every day since then as we spend time here, it hasn’t got any easier for us that he is no longer here.

He is in our thoughts constantly. I guess that we are still in grief for our boy, despite our attempts at carrying on.

So, about going native…

How long did it take? Well we still felt like holiday makers for a couple of days, we got supplies from the shops and funny looks because our accents are so different coming from the south.  But within about 24 hours, a few of the local phrases and the hint of an accent had begun to creep into the vocabulary.

The water up here is different in taste. The air is clearer and the light brighter, but it always feels like home at a slower pace and we settle right back in.

I realised yesterday that I have not looked in the mirror for five days, there is one on the wall, but it’s positioned a little too high for me to see into, so I haven’t bothered.  Normally this would bother me, on trips to the shops etc, but this time it hasn’t.  I only put on Mascara to go and visit one of my friends the other day, other than that, my face has been completely free of make up and it hasn’t bothered me at all. But I do remember to use moisturiser each day and cleanse the soot off at night.

I did look in the mirror yesterday after that thought occurred to me, but only since I had been collecting kisses from puppies at the supermarket and needed to wash it.

I have the wild hair to go with it, but am happier than I have been in months.  It’s so good to be away from the normality, back to basics and thinking about what we use and recycle up here.

I saw a field mouse run through the back of the house the other night in the old croft. It was only out the back but I will have to keep an eye and make sure that our food supplies are kept secure, last night as I sat in the caravan one ran over my foot out from under one of the seats, startled that I was there.  Usually by this time of the year, it would have the caravan to itself and all would be quiet, almost hibernation. I don’t see the point of setting traps when we do not live here all the time, it’s only one or two in different places and as long as I don’t keep food where they can get to it, I see that they have as much right to shelter here as I do.

Meanwhile we are enjoying the peace and serenity of the place with all the wildlife that surrounds us.  As my partner sat enjoying a cup of coffee, a whole family of deer, Stag, Doe and Fawn wandered up to take a look at him and meet him on the path outside our door.

Last night in the twilight, of a beautiful moon we heard the owls as they flew across the garden, over the trees which bend to the wind calling out to each other, life continuing and nature at its best.

This morning, he called me to “Quickly come and look,” there was a beautiful bird of prey swooping down into the field, it was there for a while.  We stood and watched it in the sunshine before the rain came. I always collect the beautiful speckled flyaway feathers that I find, as there are often hawks here, occasionally Eagles fly overhead, but usually the smaller birds. I take the feathers back South to remind me, but it’s good to be back here in the midst of it all.

It is raining again, for the umpteenth time today, we have mist across the fields and the wind blowing the clouds across, it will pass and we will be warm inside.

The Daily Post – Tree

 

 

 

 

 

 

Phoenix in the Fire

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Phoenix Fire

There is something immediately calming to me about building a log fire in our house.

I always look into the fire to see what shapes it will produce, sometimes I have seen words upon logs as they burn and sometimes there are objects which are plain to see. others you may have to look more closely for.

Here is the second night’s fire after we arrived.  I have named it my Phoenix Fire. As I placed the funny shaped log upon the fire, it began to burn and as it burned the fire curled the fronds of bark around it as though wings in flight.  It was beautiful. I did not want to leave it’s warmth.  As the fire roared from it’s mouth and all around it warming the room and my face. It was as though it had something to teach me. That underneath it all, there is still room to grow and return.  Another promise of Hope perhaps.  It would appear to be a signal that I am not done here yet.  Rising again from the embers. Stronger one can hope.

The Daily Post – Promises