My toxic friend

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Image by Brigitte Werner from Pixabay

You were with me through the good times, even through the bad

I reached for you when happy, I held you close when sad

 

You really were no good for me, I knew that all along

Addiction kept me with you, even though I thought I was strong

 

It felt so good at the beginning, that’s how you hooked me in

Insidious, invisible, leaving no scars to prove the sin

 

As I now choose to quit you and let my dependence end

It’s time to bid farewell to you, my dear sweet toxic friend

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The road to rediscovery…

 

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Sometimes there is no bridge and we must simply wade on through

Firstly, Hello! Thank you for reading. I have been gone for a few years and suddenly got the urge to return to this blog. I am back 🙂

The road to recovery, I almost wrote the road back to recovery there, but changed it, because can we ever really go back? Do we want to? What are we going back to? Should we not keep moving forward? I used to think we had to “get over” things to recover, however, after having to really get over some things I am now of the mind that we don’t simply “get over” these things, we actually have to go through it. Is there any point in just “getting over” something? Would it not be better to wade on right through it? This way we can learn how to truly move on instead of just shrugging something off till it happens again. When we go through things we evolve. We change. We often can’t return to how, perhaps even who we were before.

Moving on from anything is tough. The ups and downs, the highs and lows are mountainous, it’s a lot to take on. It’s exciting, it’s terrifying, it’s freeing, it’s immensely stressful. Change is hard. Whether we choose it, or it’s forced upon us, it really can be very hard. We must adapt and I guess rediscover parts of ourselves that will help us keep moving.

Rediscovery is a great word, meaning “the action or process of discovering again something that was forgotten or ignored.” Isn’t that lovely? The word itself so positive and the meaning is just, well, beautiful. When I think of recovering, I think of illness, loss, grief, shame, mental anguish, guilt, all so negative. However, rediscovering? now that makes me think of hope, peace, energy, creativity, novelty, all so positive.

I am sure this view that I have is not novel itself, perhaps not so original. But for me, it’s really helping. It’s new to me. I did a marathon recently, my first ever and it was a trail marathon. I loved it. I know I could have trained harder, perhaps you always feel like that though. Still, I did it, and I loved it. I have now booked a 40 mile race. It’s not as crazy as it sounds. Obviously I do already run. I like to run far, but this is far, far. The running equivalent to going out, out, if you will. This is a big deal for me, as my poor friends and co-workers would confirm. I will not shut up about this race. In nine weeks I shall run (attempt to run?) 40 miles of mixed terrain with a great deal of hills. Literal ups and downs, highs and lows. It’s exciting, it’s terrifying, it’s freeing, it’s immensely stressful. It’s moving me. It’s part of moving on. I’m not suggesting we all do something like this. The fear of the almighty DNF (Did Not Finish) is real and with me already. All. The. Time. However, it’s happening and I only have myself to blame and myself to answer to, which is quite refreshing in itself.

So, why the fuss over booking this race? I have been trying to figure out why it’s become such a big deal so quickly. Writing seems to be a good way to find out as my thoughts flow out through my finger tips. The word control keeps coming to my mind. What can we control in our lives? Really think about it? What do we have absolute control over?

Our relationships? No. Unless you are holding your partner hostage, in which case please stop reading as you are not my target audience! People change, they also change their minds and people do fall out of love. We get heartbroken. We also lose control in relationships, when we fall in love, but this is definitely not always a bad thing. We just simply cannot control the actions of others.

Our work lives? Not really. We could get fired. It could change out with our control. Even when you work for yourself. Our homes? Finances? Perhaps more so for some, but for most of us, nope. These are far too closely linked to those above.

So, what? What do we have absolute control over in our lives? I am currently suggesting nothing other than; what we do, how we respond, how hard we try.

Times get hard, don’t they? It can be difficult to stay afloat sometimes. I think having a goal can keep us up. What better way to keep us moving through the tough moments, days, weeks than having something so important to do? Is there any better feeling in the world than feeling truly inspired? That beautiful feeling you get when you have that fire in your belly, in your soul. I believe part of what makes that feeling so wonderful is that is it so personal. You really are just competing with yourself in life and indeed in any race. Find that thing that keeps you moving and hold on to it. 

I will say it again though. Moving on is tough. Whatever we are moving on from, good on us for doing it. Honestly, if you are in the process of moving on from anything, give yourself a pat on the back. You have earned it. Regardless of how you well you feel you doing, you are doing it. It’s so easy to stay where we are, to create reasons not to take that leap, we all at certain points have stayed somewhere to keep things simple. It’s not always “better the devil you know”, you know? You took that leap. Well done. Please be kind to yourself. You deserve it. Keep moving.

I have more to say on this topic, and intend to expand on a few points I have made. However, I do hope this post can reach someone who is experiencing this now. If so, I’d love to hear your views in the comments below.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Edinburgh

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Where is my home?

What is a home?

Is it where I feel connected or completely alone?

Is it where I feel safe and warm, in my very own wee shelter from the storm?

Is it where I play with my cat?

Can it really be as simple as that?

Is it where I fall down hills, whilst practising my trail running skills?

Is it where I search for otter poos and other wild animal clues?

Could all of these things be in one place?

Well, surely this city is my home if that’s the case!

Too close

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I am currently working on a few ideas for future posts. I have included some parts of each below and would love some feedback

Wild animal selfies

I personally think that we expect too much from animals.  It is almost as if an experience is not rewarding enough unless we get to touch an animal or get as close as possible, regardless of how dangerous the situation, we want to touch and take selfies. I find it a wee bit grimmer when it comes to selfies as these are often not for our own immediate benefit, but rather to feed our ego by gaining as many likes as we can. The even grimmer part of the wild animal selfie comes when we see how many animals are killed, injured and left terrified as a result see https://www.sundaypost.com/news/world-news/cruel-reality-growing-trend-wildlife-selfies/ Do these people not care at all what happens to the animal afterwards?

The need to touch

I recently worked at a bird of prey centre and spent a great deal of time asking people not to touch the birds. I find it to be a huge shame that people come to these centres, where you feel as an employee, that a huge part of your job is to keep the animals healthy and displaying natural behaviours and you are constantly asking people not to touch them. I feel that this is the most unnatural act, however, some places practice it.

Just recently I saw pictures of a friends’ child stroking large owls at some outdoor event. With such pictures doing the rounds many now believe that their day at any animal centre is not complete if they didn’t touch anything. This is crazy when you think that it should be about seeing the animal, we are lucky to have that opportunity, and then we just want to reduce that fantastic animal to a cuddly toy. It’s terrible animal welfare for any place to allow this behaviour because it just feeds the need to touch. Quite often animal centres will make money from allowing people to touch animals and also get more repeat customers by using this as a selling point.

Many zoos and animal centres offer educational handling sessions/experiences which can be a fantastic way to get up close to some amazing creatures, and, at least in most cases, the animals being handled are far more suited to the experience and you get to learn something too.

I even had one guy at the centre stroke a barn owl that was on my glove about to be flown, he didn’t ask, he just did it. I told him off because in my opinion this is not what you do, he then informed me that at other centres he had been allowed to touch the birds and complained to my boss about me for telling him off. The entire experience was very uncomfortable and the guy was very lucky he wasn’t injured. He was clearly mortified about being told off and instead of apologising he felt the need to complain. Which brings me to my next question…?

Why do we feel so entitled?

I think we all understand the wanting to touch cute things, we grow up playing with soft toys resembling many species, especially cute ones and this fosters the need to touch. While I am certainly not saying we shouldn’t own soft toys, I think we need to be better educated when it comes to living animals both wild and captive.

It bothers me when you see people in the street approach a dog on a lead and pet the dog without asking first. This is not only rude, but extremely inconsiderate, how do we know that it’s OK to pet the dog? We don’t know that dog’s history, we are unlikely to know the owner, but we just think “I want to touch that dog” and we do. Don’t even get me started on feeding others animals as that is a whole post on its own.

Maybe, just maybe, we can consider ourselves fortunate to be able to see these animals, to want to touch, but to always have them slightly and safely out of reach.

What do you think?

Getting busy

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I really don’t know how you bloggers do it. I had a quiet August, with just one part time job and loads of time on my hands and I got really into blogging. It’s a great new hobby. But then all of a sudden I got really, really busy with work. It’s great being busy, but I really miss writing this blog. How do you guys manage it?

I’m hoping once I settle into my new routine I will have time for blogging again, but it does take up a lot of time. I had, back in August, spent a great deal of time promoting my blog, something that I guess is really important if you want people to find you, but I think I will be spending more time on the content. I have an Etsy shop Lelsloom, and it is the same for that too, you really need to spend a great deal of time promoting your work when what we really want to be doing is the work itself, writing, knitting etc.

This is a very short post, but a post with an important question. How do you all juggle your blog with work, lifestyle and so on?

If I were an otter…

Just a wee scientifically accurate poem about otters

 

If I were an otter, even just for a day

I would eat a lot of bullhead, brown trout and maybe even lamprey

 

I’d spraint on the rocks and fallen tree logs

I’d take rabbits from their burrows and dig up hibernating frogs.

Mr Scientist – Chapter 2

 

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Two

The Basketball court

Chapter 2 of Mr Scientist. Read Chapter 1 here Mr Scientist – Chapter 1 if you haven’t already

Back in the basketball court, all the animals were getting on swimmingly. The chinchillas were jumping around and hanging out with other chinchillas. The rabbits were being rabbits and some seemed to be getting on well with the chinchillas. I found this odd as Bonnie, Lilly and Bruce could not be left alone together without fighting, but who knows? They may have been kept in this tank together for a while. Many of the birds had flown very high up now and it was difficult to tell which species I was dealing with, but I could see finches, budgies, small parrots and little owls. Strange. I checked on the mice and concluded that all was well.

 

I was dreading checking on the tarantulas as there had been a dark thought at the back of my mind – What if they ate each other? Tarantulas are not known to be social species; I would need to check what they were. I headed to my bookcase and headed back to the court armed with my trusty spider book. I identified the tarantulas as Antilles pink toe tarantula and after some reading found that they were able to live in colonies in the wild, but were not such a social species in captivity. Shit. I counted around ten tarantulas and although they seemed to not be eating each other it was difficult to see what they were doing. I had also read that they were tree climbing tarantulas, so I would need to somehow get them into the larger tank that had previously housed the chinchillas, rabbits and Hamish with branches in order to have them suitably housed. I could hardly release them into the court. Imagine? I wondered if Hamish could help.

He was still sleeping when I returned to my bedroom, but began to stir as I entered.

“Good sleep?” I asked.

“Oh yeah, have you ever slept in a tank with that many rabbits and chinchillas? Noisy bunch, that nap was heaven”.

I did think back to times when I had shared a box room with Bruce, Bonnie and Lilly, but didn’t feel it was a valid comparison, so I just kept that to myself.

“How long were you in the tank?”

“Two days, I think, our master likes to do things for 48 hours at a time”.

“Really?”

“Yeah, he calls himself a Scientist and is rather specific about time when it comes to these things”.

“Have you been involved in anything like this before? Can you tell me what to expect?

“I personally have not, we are usually used for just one experiment before being euthanized. I am not completely sure what your experiment is, but he did give you those envelopes so hopefully the information will be in there”.

“I still have 36 hours to go and I feel I have housed all the animals, although I need to move the tarantulas into a larger tank. Do you know how I can do this?”

“I don’t think I can help with that. I have severe arachnophobia”.

“I had thought about just putting the smaller tank into the larger tank and leaving the door open so they can move over themselves?”

“Probably the only way to do it, I’ll wait here and you can tell me how it goes”.

“Ok” I said, taking a deep breath, “No time like the present”.

Although I am not arachnophobic, I was slightly nervous about this part of my task. I was more nervous about lifting the tanks than being bitten. What if they escaped? I guess the main thing is getting the smaller tank into the larger tank. Luckily the large tank is pretty light when empty, so I moved it close to the tarantula tank, easier, I thought, than carrying a tank full of tarantulas and crickets across the court. The front door of the large tank is wide, which is good for putting in the small tank, but a tad worrying when thinking about closing it after releasing the tarantulas and I will not even attempt to retrieve the smaller tank, they can just have an extra hide, good animal welfare.

It wasn’t actually too difficult, got the heart going, but it was without fail. I just put the smaller tank into larger tank with some branches, quickly reached in and opened the smaller tank, swiftly closed the larger tank which was very quickly filled with crickets and then the tarantulas gradually followed. Job done. Now time to chat to Hamish.

I returned to my room to find Hamish annoying Scabby, pulling his tail and chatting incessantly. He says that he believes Scabby can understand everything we say and warns me that he may try to sabotage the task.

“What?” I asked, rather shocked at both revelations.

“He’s not on our side”. Hamish insisted.

“He’s not on our side? I assumed we were all in this together, even Mr Scientist, he said this was a job after all. Why would anyone want to sabotage it? I also don’t understand how you can believe that a cat can understand us”.

“He belongs to Mr Scientist, as you call him, come to think of it that will do, I don’t know his real name, Doctor Contract is what I believe some call him. But yeah, Scabby is his pet and Mr Scientist is not a good Scientist. The animals, all the animals here are being kept for research done for all the wrong reasons”.

“Cosmetics?” I asked.

“It’s a bit more sinister than that, I mean do you think that it’s legal to keep all these animals in these tanks? Do you think him bringing them to you is legal?”

“No, but to be honest all of this is so crazy that I hadn’t even thought about that. I’m starting to worry about what is going to happen to this animals, do I keep them? I don’t think I can give them back to him”.

“Do you think they have suitable homes now?”

“Better than the tanks, but I don’t think I could keep like this for too long. Should I re-home them? Do I have time to do that? I got the impression that he wanted me to use the basketball court?”

“Have you met all the animals? The parrots were kept with Mr Scientist for a while and sometimes you hear them repeating some of his most popular phrases, they might be able to give you some clues. They are only mimicking, so don’t expect a great conversation, but it might help. Do you have some peanuts?”

“Yes, do you want to come with me?”

“I think I should keep an eye on Scabby and the other cats”.

“I keep forgetting about the other cats, are all three part of the task?”

“I really don’t know, but there must be a reason why he sent Scabby”.

“I don’t really understand how those cats got in, I’m four floors up and they just came through the window”.

As I said this I went over to the window and noticed scaffolding, slim scaffolding that seemed to be leading up to my window and mine alone. I looked up to see a long wire running from my window, it was a very long wire and I couldn’t see where it led to, but there was a handle and a seat,  it looked a very high Flying Fox.

“What the …?”