Sandfly life

The biggest lessons sometimes come from the smallest things. This was the case for me this morning in meditation. It started with a small sandfly of some sort that flew in and landed on the windowsill right beside the Buddha statue I was focussing on in meditation. It landed, wandered around a little, then just stayed in the one place. I shifted my focus to it and watched it waiting for it to move again but it didn’t, it just sat there.

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I was stuck on a word in a crossword this morning. It was four letters, ended in an O and the clue was patron saint of sailors. I had to admit defeat and look up the answer which to my utter surprise turned out to be “Elmo”. Elmo? Rosie’s friend Elmo of whom I wrote recently (see “Elmo and Rose” ) was the patron saint of sailors? Surely not. Please forgive my ignorance and not being a religious person, I had to consult Dr Google to check this out.

Continue reading “Saint Elmo?”

Miss Daisy was feeling a little poorly last night and still appeared very lethargic this morning. As the little girl has had a heart condition for some time ( see 441 Days ) Molly and I started mentally preparing ourselves for the worst. However I repeated this mantra in my mind all through my meditation session this morning. Later, when it came time for breakfast, our old bouncy Daisy reappeared from her bed as if nothing had happened and tucked into her breakfast with the same enthusiasm as always.

Continue reading “Healing Mantra for Daisy”

Elmo and Rose

The stuffed human-like form covered in a familiar red fabric with the distinctive boggle eyes, yellow nose and a large mouth set in a permanent grin, lies between the meditation cushion and the wuppies bed.  Two little hands with only four fingers on each hand. Two little feet with only three toes on each foot. This is Elmo and he came to fame through the tv show Sesame Street. Our version was a grandchild’s toy that somehow got left behind at our place and was adopted by Miss Rosie. Or was it adopted by Miss Rosie first as it was accidentally dropped on the floor and no one wanted to reclaim it and clean it free of Miss Rosie’s influence or as some might say, Miss Rosie’s germs, but that would be unkind. Either way Miss Rosie had adopted Elmo and that is the way it has stayed for years after.

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My humble blog has just been followed for the 100th time and I thought I should show my appreciation with a special shout-out. Thank you Matt B Comic I hope you and my other 99 followers continue to enjoy my scribblings.

 

Let Me Go

We poor scribblers find inspiration in the most unlikely places. An idea then picked up can lead down all sorts of paths previously unknown. This was the case recently when I was watching an episode of “Deep State” where the character played by Walton Goggins recites part of a poem as an epitaph for one of his companions who was being buried. The words “miss me but let me go” struck a chord within me and I had to see if I could find the source of this poem, if there was one. Continue reading “Let Me Go”

Noisy No More

This noisy miner is no longer noisy, its chirping call forever stilled by the action of one of my neighbours. A neighbour who apparently cares little for us or our environment. This lack of care is demonstrated by this sad sight, a dismal scene of scattered feathers seen in our park recently which once constituted a breathing, living, chirping noisy miner bird. Continue reading “Noisy No More”

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