Ziggy's 1st Medal

It has been a running joke in our family that a dog licence is actually a medal of awesomeness. This started with our first family dog Danny (The Champion Of The World). We put him up on a pedestal really but, sure, he was a mighty fine beast of a dog. Now Ziggy has his first medal. He got this one for barking.

I have to say, dog licences are not of the same quality they used to be. Ziggy's medal looks cheap and plastic, probably because it is. He hates it. He's not used to wearing a collar never mind having something dangling from his neck. He was also a little annoyed with me for putting his collar on and not taking him for a walk. He just doesn't realise that his mummy's awfully busy doing homework for class, facebooking his photo, and blogging. He will especially not like it when I leave him on his own for a few hours to go to class but he will get his chance later to show me his displeasure by demanding lots of play fighting. Well, off I go now to get ready for class.

Bad Taste

Ok, here's a thought, if someone was buying two bottles of vodka, bleach, a toothbrush and mouthwash, what exactly are they planning to do? Today a work colleague, and someone I knew aside from work, asked me how I felt about the fact that I could be sitting in a nice cosy office, tapping away at a keyboard instead of running around going senile because I can't find a twelve pack of coca cola. She was speaking about the other job I declined so I could do more hours at this job. I told her I hadn't thought about it until she mentioned it. Then I told her that it was worth it so that someone who really needed the job could be sitting in that office.

I have not watched any films in so long. Before K moved in I had no T.V. and no internet. I used to go up to Jakers just to download stuff so I could watch it at home. The kind soul never minded that I was only up to use the width of his band. I have to admit that I have a strange taste in films. For a while I became obsessed with watching epidemic movies. The realistic ones were the best, the ones where disease spreads like wildflower and people start beeding from their eyes and suchlike. I am always slightly disturbed by the scenes where they shun someone who is infected. Perhaps this is a deep seeded fear of mine. I am not so keen on the zombie epedemic movies but REC, a Spanish film, is up there with the best. It is a truly scary film.

I also have a penchant for cannibal movies. I don't know why I enjoy these. Maybe it was because when I was 6 years old I bounced into the living room at my mum's house at the very tail end of a film called The Cook, The Thief, His Wife and Her Lover right at the scene where the lover's body is served up to man who is forced to eat him all up. But, I just can't get enough of the cannibal movies. The most disturbing film I have ever watched (and there's been a few) was a film called Long Pigs. This was a documentary style film with a couple of amateur film makers documenting the life of a cannibal. I do not reccommend anyone to watch this even though it is compelling viewing.

I also enjoy those quirky, feel good movies like Little Miss Sunshine and 500 Days of Summer. I'm not all doom and gloom. The last time my dad was over we watched Seven Pyschopaths which, despite having Colin Farrell's eyebrows playing the lead role, was actually very entertaining. So, watch the last three movies with gusto and watch all the other ones at your peril.

Two Peas In A Pod

So they say that dogs look like their owners. Well, the picture speaks for itself. Ziggy and I are both scrawny, and we're both ginger with blonde highlights. We are both highly independent and hate to be told what to do though I am a little more eager to please than he is and he is a little more obsessessed with biting ankles than I am.

Today was a productive day. Bert and K got most of the spiral staircase finished and I armed myself with soapy water, sponges and window cleaner and blew away a few cobwebs. I have been documenting the progress of the tree house with photos. When we've finished I will continue to take photos of people enjoying it. It's been an almighty project. It's also been a lovely way to spend time at my family home and enjoy my mum's home cooking.

Take A Load Off Me

As I walked home from the shops today I was thinking about foreign lands. My thoughts are never too far away from travel. I was carrying two big heavy bags and it made me think of the heavy rucksacks I have carried on my back as I traipsed from place to place. For some reason it was the third time I went travelling that my rucksack was it's heaviest. This was when I travelled Mexico and S.America. I took a pit stop for a few days in New York and then flew to Mexico City. It was a total seige when I got there as my rucksack was mislaid between JFK airport and Mexico. Now, when I think about it, it was probably so heavy they needed to fly it across on a plane of its own. I was distraught for a couple of days until I got my rucksack back. I then spent 3 weeks in Mexico City before travelling to Oaxaca with Danny Boy. It was then that I realised my rucksack was actually heavier than I could manage. It was so heavy it crushed my lungs so I couldn't breathe properly. I then decided that there was a lot of stuff in there that I didn't really need.

Right now I'm exhausted. Working 6 days a week, going to class the other day and looking after a pup the rest of the time is tiring me out. I think it's Ziggy that is the most hard work. He has entered into a terrible teenage phase. He used to be so good at going out for walks but lately he has taken to growling and attacking my feet. At home he wants constant fun and attention. I started to write this blog at 15:30 today. It's now 19:55. Aw well. This is the way it is for a while. For the next 3 years until Ziggy stops being a puppy.

The Master Of My Destiny

I have my first proper class today for the Counselling course. Last night I was finishing off my homework. Each week we must write a report using reflective writing. This is something that should be easy for me as I have done so much reflective writing for my own personal reasons. I have learnt though that even if writing is a hobby it is always difficult writing something that you know will be read. This is why I struggle to upkeep my blog at times. The book that I accidentally wrote was the best writing I could ever do because when I started to write I was not writing for an audience. Or, at least, I was not holding back because of the fear of what other people would think of me.

I found it very therapeutic to write from my heart without the apprehension of being judged. Through my writing I found answers to questions I didn't even know I was asking. In writing I had found a release. By putting it down in black and white I could see all the shades of grey (and there are way more than 50). I finished the book without actually having achieved anythinhg other than a feeling of peace. I had made peace with myself. I had stopped hiding from myself. How could I deny my soul when it was laid bare before me?

For the homework we were asked to think about our reasons for doing this course. I believe that in order to live a happy life we must have healthy relationships with the people in it. One of the most important tools we have to achieve this is communication. We don't realise it but how we communicate with everyone has a direct effect on our well being. For example, if someone is having a bad day and they work in a shop they may give poor customer service. The person they served feels that they have been snubbed. It is nothing personal but all the same the interaction has made them feel bad. The next shop they go into they don't give the clerk a chance to make them feel bad the way the previous clerk did. So they put up a barrier. The second clerk tries their very best to be as helpful as possible but they feel that their efforts are futile. Why bother being courteous to someone who is clearly rude and ignorant? So this clerk goes home, feeling drained from smiling at people who don't appreciate them. They go home to their family and, just as someone has made them feel inadequate, they need to make someone else feel inadequate. They take it out on their family. These negative cycles go on and on.

I genuinely believe that not many people think too much about these 'little' things. Most people would regard them as insignificant. But how can we be expected to treat our nearest and dearest with respect and compassion if we can't do it for people we have a 3 minute interaction with? It may be naive for me to believe that a few positive shifts in our lives could make any real significant changes to our overall outlook but I am learning to celebrate my naiveity rather than quash it. I am starting to realise though that people will only change if they themselves want to. All I can do is focus on becoming as healthy a human being as I possibly can so that I do not contribute too much to the negativity.

So, the writing should be easy for me but then it wouldn't be much of a challenge and surely the whole point of learning a new skill is to challenge yourself intellectually. I have been working in the retail industry for too long now and it has made me lazy. Now it's time to get back into a world of opportunity and possibilites. And to realise that I am the master of my own destiny.

Chocolate Drop Time

The treehouse is very nearly finished. K and Bert are working on the spiral staircase and with a few handrails in place the tree house will be easily accessible to all. Bert and my uncle B have already spent a night up there with the wood burner blazing and mum and Mrs Banjo have enjoyed a bottle of wine while they watched the sun go down. While the boys were busy making things I took advantage of the sun to take some photographs.

The guy up front is Rex, a dog my mum is looking after and who she's totally fallen in love with. Ziggy, of course, is in the background. There is also a flash of Jess' tail. It is only after taking a million crap shots that I end up with an accidental gem like this but, sure, isn't that the beauty of digital photography? I have learnt the hard way that when it comes to taking photos of dogs they tend to run off at the crucial moment when the shutter goes off. Poor old Meka hardly gets a look in these days there are so many dogs about. She's lying in her hammock now giving herself a good clean. She doesn't know it yet but it's chocolate drop time and she's going to be so happy.

Back To School

I nearly hate to say it, because if I say it I might end up scudding myself, but things are starting to pick up for me. I am one of these people who takes a step forward and then takes two steps back. I don't mean to but that's what always happens.

So the good news is that I'm starting the counselling course next week. I am super excited to finally get the ball rolling after so many years. There is no point in wishing that I had started years ago because the time just wasn't right for me. And whether or not this is the start of a career for me is hard to say right now but, work aside, I know that I will gain a lot form this course. It's nice to be able to say that I'm doing something with my life.

Other progress is being made. I have mentioned about accidentally writing a book. Before I started to write it I had half written a children's story called Freddy and the Fox based on the unusual sighting of my mum's cat and a fox down the back lane. I blogged about this a while back. After doing a lot of 'therapeutic' writing I was able to go back to the story and finish it. I has been lying gathering dust on my laptop's hard drive for quite some time now because I was channelling all my energy into my book. Of course Freddy and the Fox is not a story complete without illustrations. So K has been in cahoots with an illustrator from Romania and we have been given a sample drawing. It's very strange and exciting to see how someone visualises your words.

Today I have a lot to do. I have to enrol at the college and pay the first instalment of my course fee. I then have to go for a driving lesson. I don't dread my lessons the way I used to. When I come home I have to get stuck into some studying, both driving theory and the handouts I've been given for the counselling course. It's a good job I had all that spare time to myself last year because I think I'm going to be very busy for the next wee while.

Dirty Dog Sprollie McAuley

Progress on the treehouse has been slow but yesterday K was champing at the bit to get out working on it. It was a foul day. The sun was shining but there was a gale force wind blowing. I went up to the treehouse to take a few photos but it was actually pretty scary so I spent the rest of the day lying on my mum's sofa wrapped up in blankets and listening to her singing Sprollie McAuley to the tune of some silly song. This was strangely comforting.

This is a photo of the Sprollie McAuley that mum was singing about. You will notice she is on a leash. You will notice that she is none too pleased. If you look very closely you will also see the cow dung caked in her fur. She went out for five minutes and came back covered in shite. She was banished from the house and it was cold and windy outside. She jumped into the open boot of K's car. Bert yelled at her and she jumped out but only because she thought she was being let back into the house. When the door was promptly closed in her face she went into the boot of k's car again, stole a chew bone, and ran away to munch on her prize. Her smugness was short lived though, as you can see from the picture below.

Ziggy's First Post

I was going to write about mum's fantastic birthday on Saturday but I realised that Ziggy has done very little to contribute to the world so far other than being cute. Since I know that he is much more than just a pretty face I thought it would be a good idea to let him tell you all about the day's activities.


What can I say? Saturday was awesome! First of all I arrived at the party and all my favourite people were there and all the dog friends that I know. It was raining at first so we all hung about the house having a bit of a play. When the rain stopped it was time for the Treasure Hunt. I had heard Hannah talking about this treasure hunt but I had no idea what it involved. All I know is that she wasn't a bit pleased with me for trying to eat the treasure. It was great fun though. The kids had envelopes with wee cards in them. When they opened them they would open their mouths and make a noise. It went something like this..."Blah blah blah blah blah".

There was lots of running around to be done and after the treasure hunt we found a nice little spot by the tunnels where there was an amazing feast taking place. They seemed to call it a BBQ. Well, when I smelt the smells round here I didn't want to leave and neither did anyone else. After all the big humans and small humans had stuffed their big fat greedy mouths there were a few things left over. I was given something called a 'rib'. This kept me busy for a long time, that is, until Judy came along and stole it off me. I hear them all chatting about Judy being some kind of 'Top Dog' but I don't think that's any excuse for her stealing my nice rib. She growled at me when she took it and I growled right back at her. She just laughed in my face though and carried on eating my rib.

So, I think the party was a success. From what I understand there were a few mishaps. The kids nearly didn't get the bouncy castle due to the incompetence of a man named Fred. Also, one of Z's dogs went missing. She must have had enough with all the noise and commotion of people enjoying themselves so she took a wee dander. She ended up walking all the way down to the village where a kind couple found her. Everyone was really worried about her. I don't know why though, it sounds like she had a fantastic adventure.

Well, I think that was a pretty accurate account from Ziggy there. Well done! He's not a bad little fella when he isn't terrorising me and hanging off the bottoms of my jeans by his teeth. I am in the process of teaching him tricks. I think it must be built into all dogs to understand the command 'sit' from an early age. It has taken him a little longer to learn how to give his paw. But yesterday he mastered how to lie down and I'm so proud of him as this particular command had caused some confusion for him before and when Ziggy gets confused he gets annoyed. Everyday he gets a little better. I did a bit of reading about his breed (Lhasa Apso) and they are well known for being a breed that is more concerned with pleasing themselves than pleasing their owners. They are also slow to mature meaning that Ziggy will remain puppy like until he is 3 years old! Well, looks like I have my work cut out for the unforseeable future!

A Day In The Life Of Ziggy

This morning K an I had a conversation about who Ziggy would spend the day with. I proposed that Ziggy would have a better day with me going to Cullybackey to see the Judy and Jess and my nieces. K said there would be plenty of dogs and children to play with if he went with him. I won, of course, and Ziggy did indeed have a splendid day. He would have had a great day if he had gone with K too but he wouldn't have had these great photos to remember it by.

As you can see by the photos he spent very little time standing on his own four little paws. He provided the bulk of the entertainment for my nieces. He was sailed about on the ninky nonk, pushed in the pram, had snuggles with Aunty Katkins and was generally treated like a baby all day. Jess is still but a pup herself, albeit a great big lanky pup, who can put Ziggy down with one paw. Judy is super tolerant of him as long as he doesn't touch her food. Ziggy knows that Judy is top dog and Jess is making sure he knows she is second in line. Ziggy also met Young Loveheart's big Alaskan Huskie, Phoenix, who was as gentle as a giant. After a busy day sporting and having fun it was time to go home. He is now sleeping beside me on the sofa having only stirred briefly when he farted and wondered what it was.

Big Dogs And Tiny Hoops

Right now I'm having to jump through a lot of hoops to get to where I want to be. I remember my younger cousin being the only one brave enough in his family to watch the birth of his little sister. When asked what he thought of it he likened it to a dog jumping through a hoop, only the dog was much bigger and the hoop was a lot smaller. I love the way kids have such a simple approach to life.

Anyway, one of my good qualities is that I find it impossible to tell a lie and one of my bad qualities is that I find it impossible to tell a lie. Upon purchasing a packet of cigarettes, many years ago when I was underage, I was asked if I had any ID. I did not have any ID. The shopkeeper then asked me if I was over 16. I said no. He laughed and sold me the cigarettes anyway for being such a good honest young lass. It is my inability to lie that has led to me having to jump through so many hoops. I struggle with getting a balance here on this blog. I want to be completely open and honest but I am learning that I can't be. It frustrates me because, ultimately, it is through being completely honest, not just with other people but with ourselves, that leads us to a contented life.

All I want to do is go to work and know that I have made someone's life a little better. The reason I go out to a job that gives me no real satisfaction is so that I can work towards leading a life that is going to fulfill me. I have many passions in life, music, photography, writing but my main passion is feeling connected with the world, including the people, animals and nature within it. I guess the other passions are just a way of channelling how I feel. I guess what I'm talking about really is the fact that I'm sick of sitting here feeling disconnected from the world (despite a good healthy internet connection).

Today was a productive day. I went to the doctor's first thing to jump through yet another hoop. I changed my doctor about 2 years ago. She is the most amazing warm and sunny person. She positively glows. She is always more than happy to help me, which is something you don't seem to get a lot of from doctors these days, which is ironic considering that's kind of a big part of their job description. I suppose doctor's, like the rest of society, have ran out of patience having to deal with morons and imbeciles on a daily basis.

Then I went up town to buy a new docking station for my ipod. I'd been without one for several weeks and it occurred to me that my quality of life was not as good without loud music and dancing in it. I also went looting for some treats for the treasure hunt. Then I came back home briefly to write out the clues and decorate them with stickers and then it was time for my first driving lesson in over a year. I picked a bad time for it just as all the kids were coming out of school and the traffic was dense. The main thing is I made a start again. I've got the ball rolling and though driving most definitely does not come naturally to me I just have to keep on ploughing on.

Rushing References

Yesterday I had my interview for the counselling course. It went well, other than the fact that I hadn't brought the references I needed. I assumed that I just had to provide the contact details of my chosen referees the same as if I was applying for a job but I was supposed to have them with me for the interview. So, it was of the utmost importance that I got the references to the course leader as soon as possible. It was too late to get the people I'd originally thought of and so I called upon a few favours. So by last night I had two glowing references, one of which was emailed to me and so wasn't signed by the person who wrote it. I'm not sure that constitutes as good organisational skills but I tied my best at short notice.

I worked until 2 O'clock today and then rushed home to get changed. Ziggy came with me to the library. I tied him up outside while I went in to print the emailed reference and he howled and whimpered incessantly. This is mortifying for me as he draws attention to himself and everyone thinks he's a poor hard done by mutt when he's only been left alone for 30 seconds. I got what I needed at the library and bumped into an old customer from my last job. She said she was shocked to hear I'd left but as long as I was happy that was the main thing. I had built up quite a relationship with this lady and I became a part of her weekly routine. A routine that she enjoyed because of her passion for old photographs. She also enjoyed the attention I gave her and the fact that I had scanned so many of her photos I knew who everyone was. It was nice to see her and I told her I had to rush on as Ziggy was getting impatient and I still hadn't got my references up to the tech.

As I walked up the street I had to remind myself that there was nothing more I could do to ensure a place on this course. I'd got my two references and it would either be too late or be ok. I tied Ziggy up outside the doors and he did his usual wailing like a banshee dog, this of course made everyone look at him and this lady turned round and said "Oh no that wee dog's going to get hit by the doors!". To be honest, I thought she was over reacting slightly but she told me I could bring him in with me so I didn't argue with her.

So, I leave it up to the hands of fate. I didn't provide the references that I intended to but I did provide references from two people who want nothing more than for me to find happiness and contentment in my life. It's the weekend now so I'll have to sit tight and wait.

Granny and Granda Bow

This is a photo of my granny and granda on my father's side. I think it's a lovely photo. It's exactly how I remember them. They lived in Staffordshire and we'd visit them for two weeks every summer. As soon as we got off the boat, or plane, and landed on English turf I could smell the difference in the air. Young noses are sensitive to subtle changes. The scent in the air brought with it the memories of previous years and the excitement of what lay ahead. My grandparents home, in particlar, had a distinct smell that I loved. The house had a pantry, a proper pantry with a beaded curtain. I used to love following my dad in there in the evenings when he went to fetch a can of beer.

Our holidays in Staffordshire were wonderful. Wednesday was market day. The walk up to the town centre was up hill but totally worth it for it's quaint wee cobbled streets and market square. There was a small new age hippy shop that sold incense and cladagh rings and wooden figurines of Indian elephants. I'm pretty sure it was where I always bought my mum her holiday gift. There was a stationary shop called Partners (maybe now it's called Staples?) and every year we'd use our holiday money to buy all our new stationary for school. We could spend hours in there looking at all the funky rubbers and sharpeners.

We'd visit relatives, and people who weren't really relatives but we called 'Aunty' anyway. We would visit our uncle who had the coolest house with a massive organ and a bar in his living room. Sometimes, I would go with dad while he had a pint at the pub and play in the beer garden. Northern Ireland didn't have play areas for kids at bars. This might be because we take drinking very seriously, or the weather just doesn't permit. We went to a reservoir called Tittesworth that had the best park in the whole world. I remember certain years there was drought and the reservoir was all dried up. And then, of course, the highlight of the holiday was going to Alton Towers. Granny and Granda didn't go on any rides except the Swan Boat which just drifted peacefully along the lake. Now that I am an adult I can see that they took immense pleasure in watching all their grandchildren so happy and excited and that was enough for them. It's nice to remember the simpler times.

Mall Rats

The Tower Centre was Ballymena's first shopping complex. It used to be a hub of activity. With all the best shops, a supermarket and two cafe/restaurants, the Tower Centre was the place to be. I remember the old entrance when I was a little girl. There were steps down to it, or a ramp for prams and wheel chairs and two rotating posts that held adverts behind the pyrex. You could spin them round 'til you got dizzy. The supermarket was called Crazy Prices. This was before globalisation and all shops were independent companies. It's only rival was Stewarts, which later became Tesco.
Ballymena, for as long as I can remember, had always had a name for being a good shopping town. Especially when it opened up it's secong shopping centre on the site of the old Fairhill Market.

People didn't really warm to the Fairhill Centre though. It's open plan design gave it a very light, open feel, which people did not seem to desire. They quite liked the dark, brooding atmosphere of the Tower Centre. It was warmer. But somewhere along the line, probably with the shift in generations, the Tower Centre lost it's appeal and the Fairhill Centre began to get all the top names of the high street on their premises. Refurbishments were carried out. More space was created and filled with even more popular high street stores. All the money went to that end of the town. The Tower Centre had one feeble makeover but it was too late. The more popular the Fairhill Centre became, the less people shopped in the Tower Centre.

I worked in a shop in the Fairhill Centre for 2 and a half years. I then worked in the Tower Centre for 5 years. I didn't realise at the time, although I knew it was bad for buisness, all the buisnesses, but working in such an environment was very demotivating. The whole place just has a real slow, boring, dreary thing about it. Now I don't work there I'm seeing it through the eyes of a consumer and I am shocked by how zombie like the members off staff from various shops can be, with the exception of a few. I am glad to be away from the place. Of course, in a few years time I'll be cursing the job I have now. I have fresh eyes though and I want to keep them fresh for as long as possible.

This Thursday I have an interview for a part time counselling course at college. I really hope I get a place as this will be the first step towards me working in a profession I actually enjoy. I have been working 8 days in a row, getting up at 5 every morning and so I have a day off tomorrow to prepare for my interview. Not that I plan to do too much. This is very much a case of me just being myself. Oh, and I used to be a mallrat in the Fairhill Centre. There was a bunch of older guys who populated the Tower Centre but we didn't hang with them because they sometimes glared at us.

The Demon Pup's Busy Day

Today has been one of those mental days, made all the more mental by being in the company of a dog who is, without a doubt, a mentalist. Ziggy has the right idea. He just thinks every minute of the day is play time, unless he's snoozing. I worked from 6 O'clock this morning to quarter past twelve. I raced home to get changed, grab Ziggy and make my way to the job centre to tell them about my current employment status. I took Ziggy on the lead, a lead which is far too heavy for his delicate frame. Once we got there I went inside to get my ticket and sat down. A lady chatted to me about Ziggy. He started to get restless so I waited outside for a bit. One of the security guards took an interest in him and I let him off the lead. He ran into the job centre where another security guard grabbed hold of him. I let him down and he ran in again as fast as his wee legs would carry him. The same security guard got hold of him and brought him out to me. After a while I went to check where I was in the queue. The queue hadn't moved a single place. I sat down and a few other people made friends with Ziggy. A nice lady gave him a dentastix to chew on and he sat in the middle of the floor munching away.

When my ticket number came up the lady at the desk told me I'd have to take the dog out. I said I would only be a minute because I had started back at work so I just needed to sign off. She asked if I had my book and I told her I'd forgotten it in my rush out of the house. She told me again, that I needed to take the dog out, and come back with my signing book and without the dog. She was, literally, the only person all day who didn't like Ziggy. I thanked her and left. I stopped outside the doors to put Ziggy on his lead and one of the security guards came over and offered to look after Ziggy while I spoke to the nice lady at reception who would be happy to help me.

Then Ziggy and I made slow progress through the town. Ziggy had no idea there were so many people in the world and he thought he should be making friends with all of them. We came home for a short while, rested and played some more, and then we took ourselves off to the pet shop to get Ziggy a more suitable lead. On our way there we came across a couple with a Husky who were also going to the pet shop. Both Ziggy and Zeus (the Husky) were keen to get frolicking but this would have probably ended in disaster so we didn't allow them. Zeus wasn't vicious but he would have easily squished Ziggy with one paw.

On the way home we made friends with an English busker. I suggested he put Ziggy in his guitar case to get a few more pounds. Shortly after this Ziggy had to go to the vet for his second injection. I took a taxi there and booked another one twenty minutes later to take me home. Twenty minutes went by and the vet was still with someone. The taxi arrived and I had to tell him I wasn't ready. I apologised. He left. I went back in. The vet's receptionist apologised. I said it was fine. I thought briefly about phoning a different taxi company to get home but I decided that would be even more ignorant. The vet was ready to see Ziggy and she cooed and aahed over him. I never got that kind of reaction when I took the rats to the vet. But I'd never had this particular vet before. She may well have been the same with rats. She was very sweet. She asked him if he was going to be a brave boy. He let out a yelp before the needle had even touched his skin. I rang my taxi home. The same driver picked me up and he made a fuss of Ziggy. Everyone loves a cute dog.


So now we are home and Ziggy has ate, shat and fallen asleep. Before I took him to the vet's he was in one of his hyper, mental, bouncing off the walls, attacking my feet kind of moods. The receptionist weighed him at he vet's and as she gave him a cuddle he just looked like butter wouldn't melt. Behind closed doors he is a demon dog. But he's my demon dog.

All That Remains

This was the sunset by the lighthouse in Fanad. It's a very beautiful, peaceful place. You can make out a small figure of a man. He was wearing robes so he was possibly a monk. He sat on the edge of the cliffs and looked out over the sea for ages. And as he walked back to wherever he was going the sun sat beautifully in the sky.

One of the things K and I have in common is a desire for rooting around old abandoned houses. It's just curious to see the things people left behind. In Fanad there were plenty of old houses to explore. I went up stairs in one and nearly fell through the rafters. I sometimes think of the stuff I'd be leaving behind if I suddenly died. Some people are hoarders. I have accumulated very little in my life. I have no assets. Not that I care. I have no desire for materialistic things. All that I would leave behind would be a small cupboard full of writing, photos, letters and memories.

We watched a film one night called Dreams Of A Life, it was a documentary based around the shocking story of a young woman who lay dead in her flat for 3 years with the TV still on. She wasn't discovered until bailiffs broke into her house for not paying her TV licence. The people who were interviewed in the making of this film were people who knew her, people she worked with, her ex boyfriend and, so called friends, who were all completely shocked and upset but not a single one of them had thought to phone her up in 3 years to see how she was doing.

This started off being a lovely blog post and then it just got grimmer and grimmer. Aw well, Ziggy and Meka are playing a game and that makes everything ok again!

Ziggy's First Holiday

This was Ziggy on his first holiday, just four days after we got him. He's getting so big so quickly. His favourite game is chasing shoes and chewing socks. In fact, he's obsessed with feet. The minger.

In a mere few weeks we shall be celebrating my mum's 60th birthday. During the day there will be fun and games for the children (and me too). Young Rooney will man the BBQ and the bouncy castle's been hired. With the trampoline, swing and livestock it is the perfect place to host a party. It would be a mortal sin for me not to come up with some form of treasure hunt. With the treehouse, chickens, pigs and polytunnels we will have a proper Anneka Rice style adventure. I may even slip into some tight shiny lycra. Actually, no, no I won't. Then, after the kids have filled up on junk food and burnt a kazillion calories in the process, and all the dozens of dog guests that have filled up on left overs and chased and barked and wrestled themselves to exhaustion, then all us adults will go out and party. The band's been hired, Bert's practicing his wee 'piece' on the clarinet and who knows who else will get up on stage and belt one out?

Right, off I go to plan a treasure hunt.

Surprises and Treasure

I have genuinely forgotten that I'm meant to be blogging again. I have also been busy. Busy working, seeing Mels, going to Donegal, trying to toilet train Ziggy. I have also been liasing with various people as part of researching getting my book published. It's a crazy world out there. In my head people like me don't get published. I am ordinary. I forget that we live in an age where anything is possible. I am excited about the prospects. Considering this was a book I wrote by accident it really does not matter whether it gets published or not. It's still an achievement. I do want to share my story but I have to remember that that's all it is, my story. There's nothing special about it, we all have a story. But that's not to say I'm not gonna do my best to try and get it published.

My good buddy Mel was home last week and she met the handsome Ziggy boy. Needless to say she was in love. We took Ziggy to Cullybackey to meet his new dog friends. Judy was a little bit cut that I had a new rat (Judy is used to me with small critters), but Jess, still being a pup herself, was over the moon to have such an exciting new play thing. It was Ziggy's first experience of the countryside and he could smell the excitement in the air. The dogs ran around like loons while Mel and I took lots of photos. Mel had a little bounce on the trampoline and then I showed her the treehouse.

Mel and I have been friends since we were 16. It has been a fun friendship filled with many an adventure. Often, a ghost hunt we would go on. Never did we see one. We used to sit in her greenhouse on a couple of deck chairs. I had bought a lifesize glow-in-the-dark skull shaped candle, which we called old boney after the skull in the Trapdoor. There were other candles. We used to sit and chat and watch the bugs sizzle on the flames of the candles. Many a bug lost their lives in that greenhouse. No vegetables grew in it. Nothing thrived other than mine and Mel's friendship. I remember hiding in the greenhouse one year as a surprise for Mel's birthday. I was at university at the time and she didn't think I could come home. Mel was also, along with Mikey, the treasure at the end of the treasure hunt I set up for Bert. Life should be full of surprises and treasure. Oh wait, it already is :)

Ziggy Starpup

Quitting smoking's a funny thing. Actually, no, it's not funny at all. It's, um, let's say,it's horrendous. But only for a day or two and then you sweat that nicotine out of you and start to feel like an actual human being again. I have been thinking about the last time I quit, which was a year and a half ago. So much was going on in my life at that time that I found a familiarity in my old friend tobacco. And it was a friend. But I have learnt over the years that, sometimes, even our friends cans hold us back.

Friendship is very important to me though. The world is a beautiful place but "happiness only exists when shared" (quote from Alexander Supertramp). Maybe that's not entirely true, at least not for everyone, but when I travelled around South America I certainly longed for someone to share the experience with. The people that I met were cool enough but I guess I was looking for someone who would stir my soul. Little did I know that I would not have to travel to find that person.

Anyway, this leads me on to the best kind of friendship a human can have, and that is the friendship between man and dog.
Yesterday I became the proud owner of a pup. He's a male Lhaso Apso crossed with Poodle (Lhasa Poo), his name is Ziggy, and when I looked into his eyes I felt a tingle in my heart. I have fantasised, for many years, about having a dog. I have stopped in the street to pet random dogs in every country I have visited. I didn't care if I might get rabies. But nothing could have prepared me for this feeling of overwhelming love and joy. Ziggy might as well be my first born child.
So here I am, about to embark on another adventure, one that doesn't involve going half way round the world.

Meka is also going to have a good time with Ziggy. She is already used to dogs and Ziggy is so young he just thinks Meka is a another puppy. Oh, and though I am writing this post like Ziggy is my dog, well, she's K's dog too because if it wasn't for him I wouldn't be in the fortunate position to own a dog. Anyway, I don't agree with the term "owning" because nothing in life is really ours, least of all people or animals, but you know what I mean. I had never heard of a Lhasa Apso before so I checked them out on the wikipedia. They were bred in Tibet as sentinel's for the Buddhist Monastries. When I read this I knew it was meant to be that this would be my first dog.

Ziggy still needs some injections before he can go out cavorting with other dogs but I can't wait to take him out to meet Judy and Jess. Judy may be slightly miffed that I have a new baby but there will always be enough space in my heart for them both. Besides, Judy is a complete an utter harlot who's in love with pretty much everyone she meets. She'll get over it. Right now Ziggy is lying by my side as I write this after a busy morning of chasing my feet. I will try to get photos soon but for now I'm just content to look at him.

Run With The Buns

So the lovely Danny and Liz came and went and that was that. Good times were had but hosting can be exhausting so I have done very little since. Yesterday I quit smoking (again). In a further attempt to get healthy, K and I went for a jog along the Galgorm river path. I was a baby. I scrunched my face up and made pathetic whimpering noises. My attempts at showing my displeasure at having to exert myself did not go unnoticed, but they were, largely, ignored. Probably just as well.

I did enjoy the stampede of bunnies and the mad cat that appeared out of nowhere though. When we came home I could tell that Meka was a little out of sorts so I got her out of the cage for some play time. She enjoyed nibbling K's legs and sniffing inside his ears. I lay in bed last night and felt the sadness of losing Polly, for both my sake and Meka's sake. This sadness had obviosuly emerged as a symptom of giving up smoking but I just let myself shed a wee tear for her to get it out of my system. Then I thought about getting a kitten. Then I thought about getting a puppy. And then I had to force myself to go to sleep because it was 3 O'Clock in the morning.

The Pipes The Pipes are Calling

Oh how things change! Gone are the days when I would climb through people's windows, whether it be to leave someone my bank card or to put out a fire. You are much more likely to find me cleaning the windows now. Gone our the days when a bottle of John Jameson was my date for the weekend. I still like him, I just find him a bit sickening in large doses. I really don't mind though. I might have less to write about the weekends but I sure am happier.

On Saturday night K-Dog (that special someone I've been gallivanting 'round the country with) and I stayed in. We had Judy dog (an actual dog), on loan, from Nellybert's and we were drinking a couple of ciders. This is how rock and roll I am. I fell asleep on the sofa. Woke up with Judy lying on top of me, all flustered and sweltered with the heat of the night and the warmth of a sensitive dog. I lay on the livingroom floor with my clothes half on and half off, writhing around like a bug getting burnt alive with a magnifying glass. I was laughed at. By K-Dog, Judy and I'm pretty sure Meka was smirking from her hammock as well.

On Sunday we headed out to do some work on the tree house. Though I always dreamed of being a carpenter I don't think the skills required come naturally to me. That aside, I spent a happy afternoon drilling screws in to secure the floor. By the time we were finished for the day the floor was down, the sofa was in and a massive thunder storm had started. I sat on the sofa and listened to the sound of the rain falling onto the tarpaulin roof.

The tree house has stirred great excitement. Just the kind of excitement I love. There was chat, a million moons ago, that Bert would, one day, build a tree house, but he was too busy telling tales of squishy faced tomato men and pretending the car had broke down on level crossings. Now though, Bert is most definitely enjoying the tree house project. We all are. K-Dog, Bert, Young Banjo and I are the most dedicated, Nelly too, for her important role of "feeding the workers" but, the visitors who call round on a Sunday like to muck in as well. I'm a great believer in energy and I believe that a lot of positive energy is going into building this tree house. It will be a sanctuary. With a sofa, a table and a stove. I think I might buy a typewriter.

Today I have a bit of cleaning around the boring old normal house to do. I would have to do it anyway but I have guests coming from England tomorrow so it is especially important. My guests come in the form of a young, amazing, sweet Danny Boy, who has joined me on many an adventure and high jinx in random countries, and his girlfriend, who I haven't yet met but know that I will find as equally young, amazing and sweet. The last time Danny came to visit we took him to Glenariff Forest Park where we boycotted all the usual trails in favour of the lesser known pixie trail. But the pixie trail was nothing compared to El Arbol Del Tule in Oaxaca. We also spent many nights in Mexico city sampling all the different flavours of mezcale, each one being decidedly more disgusting than the last. Oh, and there was also that time in Bangkok....

When Mum Goes Away.....

Bert is my step dad, although I find it hard to see him as that. He was always more like an uncle/annoying big brother. It was Bert who concocted stories of the Squishy Face Tomato Man to keep me out of the attic. I had visions of this guy, wearing pin striped trousers and a check shirt, sitting up in the attic all alone and sad and angry at the world. Normal enough, except that, where his face would have been was an old squishy, pulpy tomato. He still had eyes, though they were bulging, and his lips were red and plump. He did not care for small children.

Bert was also the man who used to threaten me with "See this finger, see this thumb, see this fist, you better run". Of course he never hit me but, if I was being particularly annoying, Bert would merely show me his finger. Bert has a much higher tolerance for children now. In fact, I'd nearly go as far to say, he positively adores his two grandchildren. I think Bert is reliving his childhood through Martha and Evie. Last week when I was reading the Gingerbread Man in the back of the van to Martha, Bert "pretended" to be smoking. Then his friend Scary T rocked up onto the yard at a crucial moment (the fox was helping the gingerbread man cross the river) and Bert ignored him 'til the story was finished.

I don't know how Bert's going to cope when mum goes to Vancouver for 2 weeks. He may forget to eat, wash himself, dress appropriately and never mind the state of the house. I think he will be like a semi wild animal when she returns. She will have to tame him again. He will be a wild beast that can play hauntingly beautiful clarinet. He may move out of the house when it gets too dirty and reside in the tree house. I can see him now, swinging from the trees. The dogs will have ran off to go find some kind of responsible owner. They probably won't go too far, just down the road to Clint's. The cats won't mind. They will find the whole situation very amusing. Don't worry mum, I'll keep an eye on him.

Three Become One

Well, as you can see I've been taking advantage of the good weather. There has been adventuring aplenty in Lietrim, Donegal, Cullybackey and Antrim. You can also see a picture of the tree house there. There's been no work done on it for a couple of weeks but we're back at it this weekend. Thank God I will have somewhere to live when I run out of money for rent!

I have only one rat now. Though she takes up the space of two rats as she's so fat. Rocky died last autumn. He had been slowing down and getting frailer. Then he lay in my arms one day and died. Shortly after Rocky passed away I had to take Meka to get a lump removed from her chest. It was a massive lump and I fretted the whole day she was in surgery. It barely fazed the wee trooper and if anything, she became more bold and comfortable around humans. Polly and Meka had a happy time together for a while. Polly was always the dominant one and when I noticed a shift in the dynamics between the two I started to get suspicious that Polly was getting sick. My suspicions were confirmed. Polly was sick for a couple of weeks but in the last few days I knew she couldn't fight it anymore. I thought she might die quickly, like Rocky, but it was slow and I coldn't watch her suffer any more. I took her to the vet's.

So now Meka is a solo rat. I would like to get her company but then that leaves me stuck in the eternal rat loop. She has been so brave though. I know how important it is for rats to have a cage mate. I am making sure to tickle in behind her ears like Polly used to do.

Getting There

Right! Here we go again. Back to blogging. And why not? Sure isn't it a great way to pass the time (of which I have a lot of at the minute). Of course, it's a decision not just borne out of boredom. Y'see, when I went away that time I was busy. Busy struggling with the reality of my life. I became very depressed. Of course, I've been suffering from depression for a long time, and trying to put a band aid over it, but that was doing me no good at all. In fact, it was making things worse. So I took a break from blogging because the only words that wanted to come from my head were words of misery and doom. And I did not want to bore everyone else with that. I didn't stop writing though. How could I? It's what keeps me sane.

Anyway, I'm back now and life is a lot more peachy. The biggest thorn in my paw is that I'm not working. I walked out of my job because I'd been unhappy for so long and all of a sudden my soul was not allowing me to stay in situations that were bad for it. It wasn't the best time to walk out of a job but I did not want to be scare mongered into staying somewhere that was doing me so much damage. Unfortunately, in today's current economic climate, many emlpoyers are treating their staff like crap and getting away with it because employees feel trapped. We are told everyday "there are no jobs", so we are expected to smile through the abuse and be thankful that we have the opportunity to feel so disposbale and humiliated. Well, screw that.

Despite my rant it is a little bit scary wondering where you're going to get money for rent. It was a rash decision to make for someone who is so fiercely independent, someone who hates to rely on others. But so far, so good. I am looking after myself and staying (mostly) hopeful.

On the plus side all this free time has been rather glorious. The sun has been shining EVERY DAY and I have been eploring the country with a very special person. I have also had the time to do a lot of fine tuning and editing on a book I accidentally wrote. I wrote this when I wasn't blogging. It got me through the darkness. Now I'm nearly ready to share it with the world. I am in the process of researching publishers and I've maybe found the perfect company to publish my book. I am, in no way, under any illusion about this. I know that I am merely one wannabe writer amongst a million. But if I tell myself it's not good enough to be published then I'm shooting myself in the foot even before I've started. i might as well let the professionals decide that and remain eternally optimistic about it. There is no point embarking upon this journey unless I believe in myself.

Now that I've got this first blog out of the way, it's time to do a bit of revamping around the Palace.

I Hate Blogging

Well, that was a lengthy break form blogging. To be honest, I got sick of the spam and the writing and the boredom and the skirting around the serious issues. I've still been writing but it's all been very personal. I'm, a single lass again and I've been trying to figure myself out and how I could possibly spend four and half years of my life with someone who wasn't right for me. Meh. I hate blogging.

Actual Flying Rats

We gave the rats a bath last night. They're not huge fans of the water but they normally put up with it pretty well but last night I gave Meka to Jakers and he put her in the bath before I had a chance to get hold of Polly. So when I went into the bathroom with Polly, Meka was already freaked out and crawling round Jaker's neck. When she saw me she took a running leap right at my face. Rats don't normally do this but she was scared and she saw me and I'm her safe place so she dived for me. It was kind of comical. I just managed to catch a glimpse of her jumping with her four little legs splayed out. Then I had to close my eyes and, as she grabbed hold of my face, she dug her little claws in to make sure she didn't fall off. I had to peel her from my face. It stung like a bitch though. She then, reluctantly, had a bath but not without poohing in the water several times. She huffed under the sofa for ages afterwards whereas Polly indulged in all the extra attention she was getting with the towel drying.

Sore Feet, Big Lumps and Flying Rats

Polly hurt her foot a couple of weeks ago. At first I thought it was a sprain like Rocky had but it happened on a Saturday so I couldn't take her to the vet. By the time I got her to the vet on the Tuesday her foot was so badly swollen that I thought it was going to burst. Her toes were all sticking out at funny angles and they looked like little ratty sausages. It was much worse than Rocky's foot had ever been and so I reckoned it was a cut that had got infected. Polly was the perfect angel at the vet's. Even when she had a thermometer stuck up her bum. She was prescribed antibiotics and had to sleep in a separate cage for a few days.

One morning I woke up to find her little cage empty. I suspected she was under the sofa where her and Meka often hang out but she was curled up in a ball under the throw. I think it was her way of telling me she was fed up with her sick bed. She's well mended now but Meka's lump is rapidly growing. Rat's, especially females, are prone to mammary tumors but the vet thought it felt too soft and fatty. But it has grown considerably so now it drags on the ground when she walks. I have already discussed surgery with the vet. She's in good enough spirits and eats as well as she ever did but it's such a shame to see her carrying it around like a burden. The surgery could be dangerous for such a little critter though and I'm guessing the vet probably doesn't perform operations on rats that often.

As for Rocky, well, he's still a little oddball who keeps himself to himself but I've noticed he's slowing down. The other night he was perched on the edge of the little table he likes to sit on and he was lying on his side in a deep sleep, his wee paws and whiskers twitching away. I've never seen him sleep like that outside of his cage and I was kind of worried about him. I kept stroking him to see if he'd rouse but he just slept on. I'm a little neurotic when it comes to my ratties, and though I could see Rocky breathing I was thinking this could be his last hours and if he was dying he was better off in my arms. So I tried to pick him up thinking he'd be all limp and weak but I jolted him out of his sleep and he assumed his normal poised stance. Then I felt guilty and left him alone. Jakers came round later and Rocky was looking all relaxed again and I left him to it. We were in the middle of watching a film when we hear a thud. Rocky must have dozed off again and he'd been perched so close to the edge of the table that he fell off. Luckily he was fine but I'm sure it was a scare for him. After that I put him back in the cage with the girls where he snuggled deep into the saftey of the hammock.

Pottering About

We each have to take responsibility for our own happiness. I understand this. Everytime I book a holiday from work, at some point, I get called in. I can nearly count on this happening. The obvious answer would be to get out of the country so that I, physically, couldn't be called in. But my passport's out of date and I don't think I'll be able to afford a holiday for a long, long time. So I just 'potter about' on my holidays.

The next time I have a holiday I want to ask them not to call me because if they do call me, I will answer the phone. And if I'm asked to go into work and I really have nothing else planned I will say yes. That's just the kind of person I am. My colleague has suggested that it is my responsibilty to not answer the phone and so, therefore, not be put in that position. But then I would feel guilty.

So my colleague is basically saying "don't let yourself be taken advantage of". But no one is saying "Don't take advantage of Hannah". Why am I the one who has to change a part of my personality? Clearly, everyone seems to think that it's ok to take advatange of people. But it is not ok to let yourself be taken advantage of. In other words, it is ok to be a cunt but not ok to be a wet blanket.

Life sucks enough without having to change your values to fit in with people you don't agree with. Meh

10 Random Things

It's not often I get an idea for a blog post so this is a bit of a novelty for me. I decided to take photos of 10 random objects in my flat. This task was harder than I thought as it wouldn't make a very interesting blog if I just used objects that everyone has in their flat. This meant delving into my personal belongings. I'm not a materialistic person and many of these items are things from other people. I didn't think I was an overly sentimental person but, judging by these pictures, I am.

Exhibit A - In hindsight, this wasn't a great one to start off with as it's a sad story that makes me feel like an evil wicked person. Dirt Bird bought me this plant as a housewarming gift. I kept it in my bedroom because the rats would scurry through the soil when they were free ranging. I'm ashamed to say I neglected it. It got to the point where I had starved it of water for so long I started to feel really guilty. Instead of doing anything about it I just continued to feel guilty. Until one day I thought I should water it. It might pull through. I gave it a good big drink of water and a day or two later it started to grow mould. I've been meaning to ask Bert what I should do with it. They say you should never own pets if you can't look after a house plant. I think I've been so busy looking after my rats that the poor plant was forgotten about. I've also come to the conclusion that any plants I own I should grow from seed as I'm more likely to nurture a little seedling that I've planted myself.

Exhibit B - This is Roo. My Leitrim Aunt brought him back from Australia about 23 years ago and he's about the only thing I have left from childhood. I'm not sure how he survived all the million moves I made. But every time I came back from my travels he was there waiting for me. He's in, near enough, mint condition apart from a little spot on his nose where Polly the dog had a chew on him.

Exhibit C - Fortisip. Rocky is supping away on a little capful right now. This is after he was offered a lovely meal of squished banana and vanilla yoghurt which he tossed off the table on to my good clean floor. I would have let the girls out to lick the floor clean for me but they've already had a helping. This was Rocky's way of telling me that he didn't want banana and yoghurt he wanted Granny Juice. Spoilt Ratten.

Exhibit D - I can't remember the name of this but I'm pretty sure it's a Vietnamese xylophone. It's a Christmas present from mum a few years ago and, as well as it being a musical instrument and an interesting ornament, it's like a puzzle the way it's constructed.

Exhibit E - This is a chart of values and certain characteristics in life. The ones that are most important to me are highlighted in yellow. The ones that are quite important are highlighted in pink and the ones that aren't highlighted are the things that are not in the slightest bit important to me. I have this because it reminds me of what I value in life and what's important. If I feel deflated or down it can help to look at my chart and see if any of the really important things are missing in my life.

Exhibit F - This is the head of a rose. The rose was given to be my an ex boyfriend who died shortly after we split up. He'd given me the rose a few months before and I hung it upside down to dry out without realising that this would be the most important keepsake I would have.

Exhibit G - This is a little metal giraffe I bought from Poundland and made. Best pound I ever spent. Not really much of a story behind it though. It is what it is.
Exhibit H - Working in a photoshop I have come across all kinds of weird things that people think of getting framed. This is most definitely the weirdest. When I moved to England my big sister kindly sent me a little present. She took a sample of all the pets' hairs and tied them up individually and labelled them. She popped it in a small frame that said "Spare Hairs" . The pets at the time were Danny and Rosie the dogs and Caps, aka Tootycat.

Exhibit I - This is a wee drawing The General did for me when we were in Thailand. It was the last of many crayon drawings that she did for me. I have a book full of crayon masterpieces done by various people I knew at uni. Crayons are my number 1 art supply. Number 2 is double sided sticky tape. If you didn't have that stuff you were screwed when it came to making anything off Blue Peter.

Exhibit J - To finish off, one of my most favourite belongings is my Memory Book. I started it at uni and continue to add to it. It's like a scrap book with photos, flyers, cards and stickers but it's also a book of messages and drawings from my friends over the years. It's the nicest way for me to remember a lot of people that I don't see so much anymore. The page is open at Magda's little message to me. She wrote this the day we took a walk along the canal and ended up staying all night at a party at a rare breeds farm just outside Leek.

Rat Darlings

Here's a pic of Big Daddy Rocky looking mighty handsome. I call him Big Daddy because when the girls were babies Rocky was fat. He was a big pudding. He's a shadow of his former self now but I caught him at a good angle in this picture so he doesn't look so waif like. It's hard to know what Rocky would've been like if we hadn't got him neuteured, or if Pepe hadn't been his original cagemate. Pepe was the boss and Rocky didn't put up much of a fight. He doesn't seem to care much about Polly and Meka but they adore him. Meka would go to Rocky to feel secure and Polly would groom him. Rocky doesn't like to be handled as much as he used to but he's a well behaved rat and he gets to hang out of the cage and sit on the windowsill or his little spot on top of the chair.

Meka Moo is a hoarder. As soon as anything goes into the food bowl she rushes straight over to fill as much as she can into her mouth and then dashes to the bottom part of the cage to stash it. Polly is no dozer though and raid's Meka's stash whenever she wants. Meka is atypical skittish female rat. She must have more nervous energy to burn off as she doesn't sleep as much as Polly.

Polly Pooh Pooh Head is the easiest rat in the world to work with. She doesn't mind baths, she's not scared of anything and she likes a cuddle. Polly is an adventurer and has been from the very first day we got her. She is also a cheeky wee scamp who chases Meka around the room and does all the things she knows she's not supposed to. Rats are very energetic players. They do a lot of running and chasing and scamping.

My 3 wee rats are all lovely and special in their own ways. They groom and play with me like I am just a giant version of them. They wake up early with me on my work days and they have a lie in on my days off. They are completely and utterly spoilt but sure, if I wasn't spoiling them I'd have to spoil someone else, like my boyfriend. It's better to spoil the rats.

The Quiz Master

When I was teaching in Thailand the other teachers and I would meet up at Tobie's bar for the a quiz night. It was always a Thursday and we each took it in turns to be the host. I remember when it was my turn I designed a quiz I thought was going to be really easy for everyone. It ended up being really hard. I found a draft of some of the questions I had came up with today and was rather amused by some of them. And, of course, I will share:

Section 5: Randomness

1. How many people a year are killed by vending machines falling on top of them?

2. What way do windmills turn; clockwise or anti-clockwise?

3. What is a 'palindrome'?

4. Originally, what colour was Coca-Cola?

5. What is the longest recorded flight of a chicken?



Section 6: Fact or Fiction:

1. A cockroach can live 9 days without it's head before it will starve to death.

2. A duck's quack doesn't echo.

3. In a public house, a landlord cannot refuse to serve a customer unless they have rang the bell for 'last orders'.

4. A scrambled egg made from the egg of an ostrich has to be made in a frying pan with a diameter of no less than 42 inches.

5/ All polar bears are left handed.


I will provide answers in a few days but if you really need to know before then you can always google it :)

There's An Arrow In My Bow

Wow! You know the way you can listen to a song several times before you actually listen to it? I just listened to Lay Down Low by KT Tunstall. She's a class act even if she does spell her name a stupid way. It's obviously a post feminist break up song which most chicks of my generation could relate to but it was this particular chorus that caught my attention:


You are the right, you know, and I am the wrong
I am the silence while you sing a song
You keep me for yourself while I am alone
You suck the life from me and I am just skin and bone
And now it's time for me to show
That there's an arrow in my bow
You think I'm lost in you but I have found
That you can lay down low

The first 4 lines made me think of my relationship with a certain ex and I wondered if KT Tunstall had the misfortune of dating the same guy. But when she says that there's 'an arrow in my bow' I realised that this song was written for me personally. You see, my surname is Bowyer and I come from a long line of bow makers. Obviously KT Tunstall is sucking my ideas up before I have time to even process them. I'd be annoyed but I know she's doing a far better job than I ever would.

Electric Feel

I'm out on the homestead looking after the big girl for a couple of days while Nelly and Bert are away scunging. They've taken Judy Pudding with them so it's just me. Bonnie and the cats.

Last week I went to a gig. It was part of Tenants Vital, a pretend festival they hold in a playing field in Belfast. We missed Rodrigo and Gabriela, who were awesome apparently, but we were there to see Florence and the Machine and the Stone Roses. I was more excited about Florence and they were good but they just didn't play the songs that I expected them to play so I ended up feeling a bit disappointed. The Stone Roses, who I do love but wasn't caring about as much, ended up being much better than I thought. And they did play all the songs that I wanted them to.

Back to this evening though. I've just put the pigs to bed. It's such a shame that the only real way of testing if an electric fence is switched on is by touching it. In most cases it is definitely on and it's only after the shock to the system that your brain works hard enough to go and find the on/off switch. Rarely do we just go straight to the on/off switch. After I put the pigs to bed I did a quick rally around the wild strawberry bushes and picked myself a nice pudding. I might have mentioned before that I don't get to eat the strawberries much as Martha normally eats them faster than I can pick them. I'm sure Bert will be able to explain why the ones growing in the tunnel tasted nicer than the ones outdoors. After that I put the hens to bed. With the livestock tended to, the domestics fed and watered it's now me time. Master Qwan is awaiting me.

Face Face Likes Her Face

So, I used to look in front of the mirror and despair at what I saw. My hair that's neither brown nor blond, my eyes that are too small for my head, my nose that turns up at the end like a ski slope, my ears that stick out like a wee mouse, my lips that are massive. My poor little head trembling under the weight of them. But youngsters are hard on themselves. Youngsters are hard on everyone.

It's taken me a long time to get to where I am. A lot of soul searching and delving into the depths of my mind. But after 30 years, when I look in the mirror, I can look at my face in a different light. When I look at myself now I notice the lips I have used to show my love in the most wonderful way. The eyes that have witnessed complete and utter, breathtaking beauty. The nose that has the ability to transport me back in time with the sweet smell of freshly cut grass. The ears that channel the sounds that fill my soul with the urge to dance. Every scar, blemish and cell holds a little bit of my story. Who I am and what I've done.

This post has been inspired by an episode of 3rd Rock from the Sun. This face is a scrapbook dedicated to who I am. Genius!

Rat Line

Last night Jakers and I were discussing Rocky. I have tried a few different things with him lately but it seems that I have to face facts that he's just an odd rat. Yes, we have probably contributed to him being odd but then again, it was never planned that his sister would die and Rocky's life would totally change.

So, after reaching this conclusion I said to Jakers that it would be great if there was a hotline you could call and speak to a rat expert. I guess this is what the internet is but for some reason information is always more reassuring when it comes from an actual human being.

Several minutes later, as Polly and Meka scooted about on my bed, I asked Jakers a question:

Me: Do you think, if I was a loner, and I had the rats out free ranging, and, say I just died suddenly, do you think the rats would eat me?

Jakes: Yes.

Me: Really? Even though they're my pets?

Jakes: Yes. Evan a dog would eat you.

Me: How long do you think they'd wait before eating me?

Jakes: About half an hour.

Me: And do you think they'd feel bad about eating me?

Jakes: (smirking) I don't know, you'd have to call your rat hotline to find that out.


Of course, the next morning I realised that they wouldn't feel at all bad for eating me. In fact, they'd probably realise how tasty I was and wonder why they didn't do it sooner.

Excercising The Power Of My Will

So, this week I have decided to not eat bread. And next week I will not eat any sugar. I have decided to excercise my will power. It had got a bit fat and lazy over the past couple of months. Bread is a hard one for me to give up, even if it's only for a week. When I was in Thailand my biggest craving was always for a nice tasty sandwich. Or some of Zoe's delicious buns.

Part of my reason for doing this is to give myself a weekly challenge and to prove to myself that giving things up doesn't have to be so difficult. Sometimes the thought of something is worse than doing it. I had let cigarette's creep back into my life. It started off as the odd one when I was drinking. Then I started to have a couple of cheeky sober ones. So this week the giving up of bread is also acting as a distraction from the fact that I'm giving up smoking again. There is always a method to my madness. Though the week I give up dairy products should be fun but not as much fun as the week I give up coffee!

The Importance Of What's Important

I have been thinking a lot about values lately and what's important to me in life. Obviously friends and family come top of the list but, let's face it, if it didn't I'd be some kind of sociopath. I have always believed laughing to be of great importance. I could go into a scientific explanation of how laughing affects the brain but that'd be far too technical and boring. Best just to say that laughing releases the same chemical as chocolate, sex and having a really really good, satisfying pooh. Though obviously these aren't meant to be done at the same time.

Adventure is high up on my list of priorities but I think it's wise to note that backpacking across the world is not the only kind of adventure we can embark upon. We have to use our imagination like a child does and realise that everyday can be an adventure.

One of the main things in life that I find important is to be creative. I used to churn out poems and lyrics when I was a teeneager like I was spewing up my guts. Now it's not so easy. I keep writing my blog just to make sure I don't get out if the habit of writing but it's not the same as writing creatively. The only time I was ever top of the class was when it came to English. I used to run to my teacher eagerly asking him if he'd marked our latest essay. I also took immense pleasure in getting higher grades than the students who came top of the class at everything. I was never booksmart. Too busy being moody and creative to care about science and maths.

And as life goes on and I get older I swear the creativity is being sucked from me. And all I really want is a small group of interetsing people with interesting minds to collaborate with me and embark upon a creative adventure. These people may or may not exist but if you're out there, and you're reading this, come see me and my rats and we can play guitar and laugh and write songs that make us smile.

Jakes And The Jokes

Jakers likes to think of himself as a bit of a joker (and a midnight cowboy). One of his favourite jokes is to tell me it's 6:00 pm on a Sunday when it's only 10:00 am. He likes to watch the look of despondency on my face as I realise I have wasted my whole day off. As the recipient of these gags I find them highly unamusing but this morning I played him at his own game. In fairness, it was immensely gratifying and I now understand the attraction to japing.

Jakers the joker enjoys a jot of japing,
The japes Jakers joked,
The jokes Jakers japed
Juxtaposed the jovial judges of Jamaica. Ja man!

Credit In A Straight World

I just had the lovliest weekend. But prior to that I have a good couple of weeks. It has taken me a long time to get to where I am but I'm here now and that's what matters. I have spent many years looking at my life in terms of what I haven't acheived. I haven't got a proper job. I haven't started a family. I haven't written a book. Now it's time to start giving myself credit for the things I have acheived. I have plunged into the unknown by going to Thailand and working as a teacher. This did wonders for my confidence. It also helped me to break away from a truly destructive relationship.

I went to South America by myself. I didn't last as long as I'd hoped to but I still did it. And, not only that, I worked my goddam ass off to save the money to get there. I proved to myself that I was willing to do anything to acheive a lifelong dream. I left behind the guy that I loved because I had faith in us that we would last the distance. And we did. And we're still ploughing through everything that life has to throw at us because life won't stop throwing stuff at us just because we survived the 1st round.

The realisations I have made in the past couple of weeks are tremendous milestones. We often measure things in term of happiness but right now I am content with this feeling of inner strength.

I have had a recurring dream for well over a year now. In the dream I am in Lopburi, Thaialnd where I taught English. I am always looking for Tobie's bar which is where all my friends and I hung out. In all my dreams I never reach it though I am always so eager to see Brad, Tobie and Gift. Last night I got there. I made it to Tobie's and I spoke to him. I asked him how everyone was. When I woke up I knew that I'd made it. This dream has represented me looking for a part of myself that I had lost along the way. The feeling of accomplishment was overwhelming. I made it to Tobie's bar after all this time and all those dreams. And today I feel a little bit lighter.

Meh

Today I'm feeling a bit 'Meh'. I am seriously lacking in any sort of motivation to do anything. There's no pleasing me. I don't want to hear about negative things and yet I'm told that 'that's life'. Like it or lump it. So I don't have a choice about the conversations I have and yet I grew up believeing that I had a choice in everything.

I thought I had dealt with some very strong emotions a while ago but, seemingly, I haven't. These feelings are giant. Bigger than I am and I'm a little swamped by them. Part of me would like to hide away from the world for a while but I don't have the luxury of hibernating.

Everyone has good days and bads days. I know this. In order for me to have more good days than bad days I need to be a bit more honest about my feelings in general. I once went out with a guy who didn't allow me to be honest about my feelings. I know this sounds stupid but it's true. I am scared to be upset, annoyed or pissed off because it has been reinforced that these emotions are not acceptable. But, you know what, I don't care any more. I really just don't care.

Beef Hustler

So, I misheard a word the other night. I thought someone said 'Beef Hustler'. What they really said was, 'befuzzler'. Neither make any sense but both were funny. Just out of interest I googled 'Beef Hustler' and look, it exists! You have to scroll down to see it.

Djingle Djangle

Sometimes real life gets busy and cyber life suffers as a result. Not that this is a bad thing. My big sister Katkins was home this weekend. She came out with me on Saturday night for a spot of bingo. Now, in fairness, this is not as granny like as if sounds. The bingo was for a charity fundraiser that a friend of mine organised. The general consensus was that all the girls loved bingo, all the boys didn't. Perhaps if the game worked so that, when you scratched off a number, it revealed a nude picture of a lady, the boys may have enjoyed it more.

This week is also a busy week. Tonight I have an awards ceremony and dinner to attend at Stormant and tomorrow we have a Django Django gig in Derry. The dinner is courtesy of Jakers (he was nominated for a learner's award) and the gig is courtesy of Nelly (who tells me that this band are the hottest thing since that spell of good weather we had a few weeks ago).

In other news, Rocky Rat doesn't seem in the best of health though his form isn't too bad. He doesn't seem to be able to put weight on but he accepts whatever food I offer him. He is a big fan of fortisip (a special vitamin drink designed for people who need calories but can't eat very well) so I give him a little sup of that every day but I can't leave anything in the cage for him to eat as the girls will get to it first and they certainly don't need to put on any weight. Meka is a hoarder and whatever food I put in their bowl she will hide down at the bottom of the cage. Sometimes I see her trying to squeeze as much as possible into her wee mouth to hoard downstairs. It may be this hoarding tendency that prevents Rocky from getting all the food he needs. There may come a time when I have to put Rocky in his own separate cage.

So, anyway, probably about time I got back to work here. I am nearing the end of the biggest order of reprints this shop has ever seen. I have built up a rapport with the customer and what had turned into a £100 job is turning into a £600 job. I feel like I know her whole family as I've seen so many photos.

Taking A Walk In Someone Else's Shoes

As it was my day off yesterday I decided to go out to Mum's to see Miss Martha. Judy and Bert had just got back from their holidays in Donegal and poor Judy was shattered from all the fun she'd had running wild and free at the beach. But Judy really took a shine to Martha's shoes and socks and so she asked if she could borrow them for a while. She looked a bit silly but I don't think she cared.




Poor Martha had to make do with my camera case to keep her little toes warm. Though she was the one who initially had taken off her shoes and socks to show me her lovely painted toenails. When we put them back on for her she was pleased that Judy had made them all warm and cosy for her.

Keep On Crushing

I have been struck down by Hannah Flu. It's not quite as bad as the swine flu epidemic but still worth complaining about. Speaking of the swine flu, I haven't been able to eat a Pear Picking Porky since I got a bad dose a few years ago.

I have recently joined hitRECord which is a website for creative and arty types to express themselves. If editing floats your boat you can use other members' songs, videos, photos, paintings, poems, etc. and remix your own version. It's basically doing away with the concept of copyright. It seems to be human nature to claim ownership but wouldn't the world be so much better if we all shared?

And whilst I'm talking about this website it's also worth mentioning that I have a crush on the guy who came up with the idea. He's an actor called Jospeh Gordon-Levitt and he's made me remember the importance of having a crush. When you're too young to get served at a bar, or buy a packet of skins to make a doobie, you're too old for dolls and prams, crushes are what gets you through the day. My first crush was Michael J. Fox and I didn't care how many gigawatts Doctor Emmet Brown was shouting about because Michael (Marty) looked so cute in his orange bodywarmer.

So it's healthy to have a crush, even when you've just turned 30 and the world of fantasy isn't quite as lucid as it once was. It's healthy because it keeps your mind preoccupied for a minute or two when normally your mind would be telling you to light up another cigarette. I also have a crush on my boyfriend because he kind of reminds me of JGL. Though my crush on Jakers is possibly more than just a crush. In fact, I think I might be in love with him.