Moment to Moment

So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye...

I think it's time to stop flogging this dead horse. I don't have the will to blog right now and I can't see it coming back for a while.

Life stuff is being particularly draining and while it's nothing exciting, or dramatic, it's not leaving me much time or energy for over-thinky blogging.

So. It's been a blast.

Big thanks to Nicole, Anthony, Laura, Zoe, Cristy, Ducky, Kim, Mark, Robert, Jennine, Dogpossum, Tigtog, Anna, Dr Cat, Liam, Harry and yes, even you Fyodor.

Thanks also to the many other commentors who dropped by here and bloggers who linked to my posts, and thanks even to the weird people who called me names, threatened me, and sent my rooly weird emails. I'll miss you crazy cats.

And I'll still be blog-reading and commenting, and you can still find me at Flickr.

And if you really need to contact me urgently for some peculiar reason, I'm always available at deborah dot kate at gmail dot com.

Goodnight, and good blogging.

Things I have been giving much thought

My suburb doesn't have a lot of streetlights. This bothers me. Especially when JW is away and I find myself walking the dog after it has fallen dark. Which is most days, as I don't generally get home from work until after five or so.

Rationally, I know that a streetlight offers as much protection against would-be assailants as a garlic bulb necklace. But you know, a bit of light never goes astray.

I have a theory that the lack of streetlights is due to the fact that the residents of this posh suburb don't believe in crime. After all, such a safe and welcoming part of the world shouldn't need streetlights, right? And anyway, everyone is rich enough to afford cars. And dogwalkers. So one never needs to wander about after dark! Anyway all the womenfolk stay home and tend to their children in the daytime when dogwalking opportunities abound. Or something.

And indeed, very few people do wander about after dark, except for me, and the dog. Who, might I add, is terrified of everything and is of no use as a guard-dog whatsoever.

I have thought about getting up at 5am to walk the dog, but it will still be dark then, and cold, and most importantly, 5am. When anyway who is not a dairy farmer or a baker, ie me, should be tucked away in bed.

Tonight I actually took the long route down to the DVD store to return some movies, and give the dog and myself a bit of exercise, so I could walk down the better lit streets.

A part of me thinks my fear of walking around after dark is quite silly and really, it's not like I'm going through a stroll through Karrakatta at 3am or anything.

Still, I can't wait 'til the days start to get longer though and I can go for a walk at 6pm and not feel like I should be carrying a can of a mace and one of those personal alarm thingies.

Remember to breathe

There are a lot of small things - and not so small, like my seeming never-ending tax bills from my life as a freelancer - mounting up at the moment, and it's the middle of winter, and I hate the short days and the constant trail of wet pawprints the dog leaves in the house and how my stockings all seem to get holes in them after only a few wears.

But the light is always beautiful and the rainy days are still gifts because it doesn't rain so much anymore.

And the red wine and the chocolate and the food and the warm woolen clothes are good things, even if it's hard to get excited at by the cold wind at 6:30am at the train station.

So, here we are, breathing.