seventeentimes

As often happens to me, I became overwhelmed by the amount of things I wanted to write about on our vacation and was reduced to writing next to nothing instead… Blogging falls somewhere between journalling and essaying (if you can ing an essay) and I’m unsure how to approach it. It should be as much for you as me, or I might as well just write in a notebook and keep it to myself. 3 of you are are my family, and I don’t feel the need to be entertaining or exciting because I figure you’re happy just to dip in and see what’s going on. The rest of you are my very dear friends, and if this blogging is part of our friendship, it is unusual in that it is not much of a dialogue, it is so one-sided. It is in fact a little embarassing. Perhaps I should just stick to showing you what I think are pretty pictures.

What I would most like to share is how I feel and think about animals…and trees…and war… and to tell you about some of the curious things I come across in my small corner of life…

Let me try that. First of all, my heart has been stolen, claimed, tamed, by this little dog Peppy. To spend so much time physically close to him, stroking and playing and sleeping creates a blurry boundary between us. I imagine it’s a glimpse into what occurs between aparent and baby. He is a lesson in love. He wants to be stroked and cuddled and kissed almost all the time, and stroking and cuddling and kissing so much of the day does for the psyche what regular excercise does for the body. What is this thing between dogs and humans? We become such clear extensions of one another, teaching us about the interconnection of everything.

I would like to nominate David Attenborough to be… well actually, to just keep on being exactly who he is, but perhaps with a crown. His recent series Life in the Undergrowth , gave me 5 of my best hours of life so far. Pure joy.