Ready, Set, Starter Pet

Why is it acceptable to have a “starter” pet?  When did this trend start and who started it?

I have to be honest here, I grew up having numerous pets and none of them were considered as starter pets.  They were companions, they taught me about unconditional love, forgiveness, responsibility, and that its important to give yourself the chance to love again and again.

When a friend recently announced they were getting a pet for her six-year-old daughter, I was delighted.  It reminded me of all then in ive had with my pets.  When she said it was going to be either a hamster or gerbil since either one makes an excellent starter pet th felt like cold water was thrown on my memories.

It was out of my mouth before I even realized I had asked what the heck is a starter pet.  She took offence to my horrified reaction when she told me that hamsters or gerbils are low maintenance and besides no one expects them to live too long.  Plus, she carried on before catching the look on my face, they are easily replaceable without a child noticing.

Is this poor hamster or gerbil’s life worth next to nothing as long as a little girl has a starter pet?  What does a starter pet teach a child?

pets I understand.  Starter pets not so much.  Am I the odd person out on this trend?  What do you think of starter pets and their role in a child’s life?

Lost And Away

Some where  in this room there is a dog.  A living, breathing dog.  One that’s known to bark, growl,  sneeze and cough.  Some where in this room is a dog that wags his tail and stomps his feet when he is happy.

In theory, this dog should be easy to find in this room.  Especially since he is the only dog in the room.  But that’s all theory.  You see reality is just a shade different.

It isn’t that the rooms is super messy or covered in stuff. No friends that’s not why I can’t find the dog.  I can’t find the dog because you see I said a bad word…a bad four letter word.  A word that sent him heading for hiding spots.  The further away, the tighter the se, the better.

The word I said?  Bath.  I said I wanted a bath that would take me away.  I didn’t say the at he needed one.  I didn’t say I was giving hm one.  And still he headed behind stuff, under stuff and now he  is lost.

He won’t come when he is called, and tempting him with food doesn’t seem to work either.  I’d take a bath except I really need to  find the dog first.  To know he’s safe etc. then I can have a bath, the kind that takes me away!

Fishing For Hope

When I was a child, we’d go to the fair now and then.  One of my favorite things attractions was a game of fishing.  This is somewhat amusing considering that nowadays I have no desire to fish.

Of course the game at the fair didn’t involve real fish, instead you had to hook a toy fish.  Each toy had  a piece of paper in it and that paper indicated the prize you won.  It wasn’t really about the prize, at least not for me.  It was the thrill of trying to get the fish because the reality was, you weren’t guaranteed to get a fish each time.

Nothing in life is guaranteed.  Just because you cast your line into the water it doesn’t mean that the fish will bite, or that there even are fish in the water.  But knowing this doesn’t stop me from casting my line or hoping for the fish on the end.

So why do I do it?  Why bother casting my line when nothing is promised? Because there is hope.  Hope for the great prize to be found on the end of my line.  It’s a bit like chasing  the lottery dream that most people play.  ☺️

I suppose it’s the thrill of the chase as much as that moment of potentially having your dream and having life made better, or easier.  Granted there is no guarantee that winning the lottery or hooking the fish with the best prize will actually make life better or easier.  Perhaps it’s just that the amount of grass and the thickness of it increases with that win.  The reality is it may not be any better on the other side of the fence, no matter how wonderful it looks.

Now, if you will excuse me, I may haven bite on the line, or is it just stuck in the weeds?😉


How It Works

I had tried to rub away a headache, massaging at the base of my skull and my neck as well as my temples.  The headache refused to move.

Over the counter drugs didn’t work.  Heat didn’t work.  Darkened rooms?  No way.

It was a stubborn headache that had taken up what seemed to be permanent residency in my skull. I feared it would squash my brain into nothing.  Not that there was a lot in here to begin with! 😉

I was desperate to try anything, no matter how strange it sounded.  So when a dear nurse grabbed my hand and squeezed hard on an area between my thumb and fore finger I was somewhat skeptical and yet hopeful.  The pain of from her squeeze was massive, but it wasn’t enough to make me not have a headache.

the nurse had assured me it would take some time to would work.  And sure enough the headache seemed to melt away after twenty minutes or so.  It wasnt that I forgot about my headache because of the pain a she created in my hand.

And the truth be told, when the pain receded my head felt oddly tender, almost bruised.

Had the technique of the nurse not worked, I was willingly to remove my head just to make it stop.  I have no idea how or why the technique works, and to be honest I don’t really care.  It works and that’s all that matters!  At least when you are in pain, that’s the truth.  And I dare you to prove otherwise.  I’d also be grateful if someone could explain how and why this works!

Present Touching Past

“It’s the energy you see,” he said as he spun n a circle, his arms held out to his side.  “More like the altitude,” I muttered to myself “that’s made him off his rocker”.

We’d spent the better part of two hours climbing this hill, man-made to be sure.  It isn’t that it was a steep climb, but at one time it had been terraced, now it was just uneven and seemed to be waiting for a misstep.  He had also insisted that we stop at “key” areas  where “energy flows bubble up”.

I couldn’t see or feel any change in these spots, even though he claimed he felt lighter and full of calmness.  I had decided he just arbitrarily came up with reasons why he wanted to stop and rest.  It was the only thing that made sense to me.

Now that I was standing at this high place I couldn’t help but marvel at the amount of work and determination that would have been required to be this huge hill.  I had to remind myself it was much smaller today than when it was in its hey-day.  Wind, rain and time had all eroded much the height and  sharp lines of the terraces.

Faith, desperation, belief, fear or what, I wondered, had led humans to create this special place.  A place that not all would be allowed to climb.  What deity demanded this kind of place?  Wha else did this deity demand to hear th requests, prayers and dreams of the people wh who came here to worship?

While he continued to marvel in the energy and the power he seemed to be picking up from everywhere, I wondered what made people suddenly abandon this place and perhaps this deity?  Could we even know for sure if this was a place of worship or could it have been some type of palace for a ruler?

Was he , in his modern garb and strange ideas of how to communicate with the energy here, creating some sort of link between the present and the past or was he just foolish?  Is there every a way to prove something like this?  Or for that mater, disprove it?

I took in the view and wondered what it would have looked like all those years ago.  I know trees had once been in the now barren fields below the mound.  The ancients from here and used up all the wood, cut down and destroyed all their trees and none seemed to have ever grown back.  Was that a sign of this place’s power or was it a reminder of how complete human footprints can be in nature?

We were silent on our trip back down to the car.  He was lost in whatever it was he had contacted up there and I as left pondering how much we haven’t really changed as a species.  We still seek power, powerful places.  We still leave our lasting mark on nature and believe the higher power will give us our desires.  We still alter, change and destroy as we see fit.

Do You Read Labels?

History doesn’t always tell us the whole story,Mather we are told what the survivors/victors wanted to tell. However we are able to pull together pieces and threads of various stories to see history as a more complete image.  In some instances that mean seeing the roles of women more clearly.

History likes to show women as maintaining the Homefront, carrying out domestic tasks and to be sure that would have been the story of many women, but not all.  Some women joined men as explorers, soldiers, Pirates and such.were they treated as equals?

History tells us that most women who stepped away from tradition roles, those who chose to ignore their gender, often times did so in the costume of being young men or boys. This would indicate that women weren’t seen as equals, but if they could pass as young men or boys, they were capable of fooling the men they worked with.

we can talk about how far we have come today, as women, when it comes to equality, but the truth is, we aren’t there yet.  Sure we are closer, but not equal.

Perhaps a better way to look towards equality is to move away from labels regarding gender.   The problem here is that we, as a society, like to label or box people a certain way. To remove the gender label is to turn things inside out.

some cultures argue that we shouldn’t look for equality because men and women aren’t exactly then same.  These differences get in the way of equality.  And instead, we should be honouring the differences, and this includes the way we speak.  This can be seen in some South American cultures, where men and women use different words to describe the same thing.

If, then, it is our nature to label things and notice the differences as well as the similarities, we may never be able to find equality.  Is the label that big of a thing or can we rip t off and ignore it?  I dont have the answers, but if you have suggestions or answers please share!

Balancing An Unbalaced Life

It’s always a little off-balancing when I come back to North America after an extended stay in Europe.  Which is kind of strange when you consider I grew up in North America. 😉

Perhaps it’s the old world charm of Europe, then again perhaps it’s because Beloved is more comfortable in his own country.  Then again it may be because it’s not my home area and so I enjoy the novelty of it all.

there is just something jarring about the upfront, in-your-face confidence of here.  Not that I’m complaining, just making an observation! 😊

Beloved assures me that North America is more brash, louder, full of swagger and excess  compared to his homeland.  He says it is a bit of an adjustment.  Perhaps in this last bit Beloved is correct. 😉

I love here as much as there for different reasons. And I love the fact that I bounce freely from place to place, enjoying the good in both.  I try to help where I can, hope I make a difference in some way to some people’s lives and learn what I can where I can.

So there is something to say about a slightly unbalanced life!😊

Maybe Not A Zen Place

The dog demanded that we spend the day outside.  It wasn’t that he held and up to our heads or anything, he just kept coming up to us to thunk his chin on our legs and then march over to the door.

evidently training us humans is much harder for him than it was for us to get him trained.  But eventually we relented, pulled out a few chairs, made some coffee and sat on the deck while he happily found a patch of grass in the sunlight to flop down on.  He was content.  So content he fell asleep.

things were going okay for us as well, until the bugs decided to have a drink (or is it a swim) in our coffees.  I cannot drink after knowing a bug has been in my drink.  Call it an ick factor.  😳

After that I simply couldn’t focus on my book anymore.  I was on high alert for ants crawling up my legs, bugs flying down my shirt and so on.  But the dog?  He seemed thrilled to be sleeping out doors.  Sleep on the ground?  Not me, no siree.  But him it is his glory apparently.

I dont know, maybe ants crawling on him feels good.  Maybe the outdoors, bugs and all, puts him in a zen mode.  Maybe outdoors just isn’t my zen place.

Wrong Prescription For Me

I ended up with the oddest prescription I’ve ever received during my latest visit to my specialist.  He pulled out his magical pad of paper, made some odd scratching a and told me to consider filling it sooner rather than later.

Naturally I had to read what he wrote.  Since my own hand writing seems to indicate I should have been a doctors, had no problem reading his markings.  He had written out a prescription for me to take a long, stress-free break.

To my thinking, this condition called life means  experiencing stress is a given to all of us.  What isn’t a given is how much we are exposed to or how we cope with it.  So a stress-free break seems impossible to me.  But reducing the stress is achievable.

I packed up my lovely new car and headed out to a nice, restful place.  I brought books, music and my cellphone, to take pictures etc.  oh I also brought clothes, all sorts of lovely food and  wonderful drinks.

The plan was to forget about the daily schedules and such.  Just simple enjoy the time and doing what I wanted, when I wanted.   Sounds like just the thing right?

except I’ve comes t discover that I seem to handle stress so much better than complete leisure time.  Perhaps it was the seclusion, perhaps it was then rake of minds  was in.  At any rate I cut the trip so I could head home and relax, ignoring the daily schedules that everyone around me seemed so intent on keeping!

What It Means

I’ve  never been much good at asking for help or admitting when I’m unable to do things.  I like being independent.  I like being strong.  I like being capable.

The thing is, having lupus means not being able to always be strong, independent and capable.  You just never know exactly when things will be taken away from you or for how long.

You’d think I would have learned to ask for help.  You would think, given the number of years lupus has been my sidekick that I would be better at coping with this.  I’m not.

I fight it each and every flare.  This has led to food on the floor, dropped jars, piles of laundry left where ever and friends stood up or even worse, having to cope with me dragging myself around.

So I have lupus, but like to pretend I don’t.  Which has led to so pretty odd adventures. Sch as rolling on the floor like an armadillo because it was all I could do.  It has meant being almost glow in the dark red from sun, or swollen feet that look like balloons.  It has meant appearing clumsy or perhaps a bit intoxicated to people who don’t understand.

It has meant being rude, thoughtless, cruel at times when the pain, illness and what have you is too much and there just isn’t one more drop of energy in my body.

It means shutting myself away, pushing people away and yes sometimes hiding because it’s just easier for all involved.

It also means that friends and loved ones show me grace and love as they pull me they.  It means learning that once again no one thinks less of me for needing help. It means understanding that people are willing to help me out if I ask for it.  It also means they are tired of stepping in when ive run myself right into the ground because I’m selfish and don’t listen to their pleas to slow down.  It means another chance to learn a lesson I guess.