A Hard Lesson for a Duck

A Hard Lesson for a Duck

My regular walks with the dogs – two Jack Russell terriers – bring many different experiences, most of which are totally positive and some genuinely life enhancing. Today’s episode concerns a family of ducks, which the dogs firmly believe should be theirs to do with as they will!
We have been privileged to observe three generations over the last couple of years and the duck in question is the sole survivor of three siblings from last year. Some weeks ago, she hatched two babies, which we watched regularly as they developed for three or four weeks. My wife commented that the duck did not appear to be a particularly attentive mother. This proved to be the case, when – along with a hysterical infant – my wife was witness to the distressing sight of one of the ducklings being grabbed enthusiastically and taken swiftly away in the jaws of an out-of-control dog, not, of course, one of ours!
The mother duck seemed to take little notice of the survivor and spent most of the next few weeks back in her nest in the middle of the lake.
Well, recently, she appeared with three more ducklings; when we see her now, she is rarely more than a couple of metres from her babies and is voluble in making her ducky protective presence felt. A rather tough way for her learn, but I think these three have a better than even chance of achieving adulthood.
For me, this is another great example of the value added to our lives – albeit this time indirectly – by having dogs in the family.
There will be lots more heart-warming stories of people and their treasured pets on
http://yourpetgiftstories.blogspot.com/ .

Could Life Be Any Better

Thoughts do Become Things

Thoughts do Become Things

Today I had another clear reminder - if one should be necessary - of how everything which happens has been preceded at some time by one or more thoughts. We were on our early morning walk with the dogs and took an unfamiliar route in the park. Remembering that this park is no more than a kilometre or so away from where I have lived for the past 15 years, my ‘discovery’ of the most perfect ‘dingly dell’ also tells me that I do not always need to travel in order to experience spectacular views.
The spot in question is in fact one of the well springs for which our little town (which I prefer to think of as a big village) is justly famous and much visited.
Being totally captivated by this previously unseen vista reminded me of exactly why, when I first visited here in 1993, I said immediately that this is where I really want to live. It just felt right and I understand why I have been justified in following my instinct, when accommodation was difficult to come by and it often appeared that it might be easier to compromise. There are many other attractive places within a short distance of here, where we could just as easily have settled.
I am so pleased that I was able to follow my heart’s desire and so feel good about where I live just about all the time.

Could Life Be Any Better

Flying Wishlist

Flying Wishlist

As a boy wandering in the Pennines (mountains to a small boy - hills in ‘reality’), I would look up in wonder at the aircraft trails in the sky. I would be even more excited when one was low enough for me to see and identify its type - usually a DC3 Dakota. Of course, I would try to imagine where it had come from; ( I was told by an older friend who new about these things that it must be headed for Leeds/Bradford) and what it must be like to need to travel such vast distances. It surely must be full of very special people.
Now that it is rare for a month to go by without my needing to fly somewhere, I’m particularly conscious of the saying ‘be careful of what you wish for’, especially when I have recently returned home and am watching planes in the night sky while walking the dogs. The gratitude I feel for not being airborne at that moment does not take the place of the excitement when the next trip is due.
The wishlist now extends to wanting seats up front! Only now it is not simply a list of wishes; it is a fantasy in the process of being transformed into a reality. I do not have an exact timeline for when this particular goal will be achieved, but I do know that all that separates me from it is time. My only real concern is to take the actions necessary to shorten that timeline.

Could life be any better

What's In A Name

What’s In A Name

I think we all agree with Shakespeare that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but I am constantly surprised by how many people dislike their own name. During my childhood, I myself would have gladly exchanged my parents’ choice with Julien - the eldest of Enid Blyton’s Famous Five.

When I recently discovered that some people attach a significance to names according to the number of letters, I wondered more philosophically about the importance or otherwise of our personal nomenclature.

In my own case, I have been known by different aspects of my given names at different stages of my life.
1. Birth to 16 Anthony; my mother’s choice and heaven help anyone who had the temerity to modify or shorten it.
2. 16-33 Tony; while serving in the RAF I would have needed more assertiveness than I possessed to insist on Anthony. Perhaps the only thing I have in common with our erstwhile PM.
3. 33-59 John; the approximate coincidence of my leaving the RAF and the death of my father allowed my new status as a civilian to begin with me being known by our common first name.
4. 59-?? I am now consciously moving toward my real purpose and identity, so hence forward John Anthony Vine the Yorkshireman Abroad.

Could Life Be Any Better

Just Do It

Just Do It - Inspirations from Everyday Occurrences

I remember as a child, having learned to swim and really wanting to be able to dive, rather than walk down the steps into the pool or jump in like girl. How many times did I stand on the side of the pool, thinking ‘today I’ll do it’? Many dozens at least, if not hundreds.

I am reminded of this just about every time I take a shower. When it comes time to lift up my foot to wash between my toes. I know full well that I can balance on one leg for long enough to achieve the desired effect, but if I hesitate for even a second, then I somehow have lost the necessary stability and find I need to use one hand to hold on and steady myself.

Not a big deal perhaps; not a bad idea to think better safe than sorry? (I’m told that more people than you would think are injured in shower accidents.) But as the years advance and I must accept decreasing physical and mental capabilities, I very much want to practice balance and control for as long into the future as possible. So this is genuinely a regular useful reminder that in many cases, one should 'Just Do It'!

Could Life Be Any Better

Life's Winning Ticket

If Yorkshire is such a great place, then why am I not there?

Born in Yorkshire used to mean two things to me: firstly, holding a winning ticket in life’s lottery. Secondly, being qualified (at least by birth) to play cricket for the only real county cricket club.
Now that anyone who is good enough at cricket does not need the birth qualification, I firmly believe that a little bit of magic has gone from Yorkshire County Cricket Club; hey hoe - I did not have a son, so this didn’t prove traumatic.

As for life’s winning lottery ticket: this is substantiated by the almost spiritual magic which can be experienced while walking the hills and moorlands of Calderdale and the surrounding areas. When you are attempting (successfully I might brag) to cover fifty (that is 50) miles of the Pennines in 24 hours, you need at least a little bit of spiritual magic, along with a number of other qualities I find it difficult to contemplate. Of course, once again, you do not need the birth qualification - but it certainly helps.

My real spiritual rude awakening came with the philosophical realisation just how many genuine winning tickets there are in this ‘lottery of life’. Just as many as are consciously chosen! No No limits. Sadly for many people, these winning tickets can’t be obtained using nothing but money.

Just how do I get this ticket, now I know that my status as a Yorkshireman is not the be all and end all?

That is my purpose in sharing my search for the answers to life’s persistent questions; with apologies to Garrison Keillor’s creation ‘Guy Noir’.

Could Life Be Any Better