How time flies…
Hello again. You will all be so happy to know, I am still alive just been so busy of late that the time flies away and most of the time without my permission!
I’m currently very caught up in ‘King Leah’ which will be running in conjunction with the show “Brush up your Shakespeare” from the 3rd to the 7th of October. I think it will be a very good show – I hope! Either way, I’m really enjoying it and have realised just how much I have missed doing theatre like this – hell it’s all the way back since school that I did theatre and that is a long time! The other day I had an audition with ‘Theory X’ and I came out with such a high…. It was truly amazing! I haven’t had that feeling for AGES!!! That is the one thing I love about stage – it has this amazing power over me and just fills me up beyond all understanding – it is the best feeling ever!!! I love it!
Other than that I’m unfortunately going to be another year older soon which is a very scary thought considering I don’t know where all the time goes and I swear I still feel like I’m sixteen! I can remember that birthday, in fact I can still remember my thirteenth birthday and my eleventh and even though on one hand it feels like yesterday it also feels like centuries ago! Have I learnt anything in this last year? Have I learnt anything in the past ten years? Yes, I’ve learnt that it really is a pain getting older and the decisions and responsibilities get even more impossible. For some reason we have this unrealistic thought when we are younger that it’s fun being an “adult” but in all truth when you get to be an adult (apparently), you suddenly realise that childhood and teenage hood was so much better! For one thing your parents were “right” and the adults got to make all the decisions in your life. Now your parents are looking to you for the advice and hoping you can make the decisions for them and you! The only choice I would like to face in the day is whether I should or shouldn’t get out of bed….however, this is apparently not a choice?!
I’ve made a good friend in ‘King Leah’ but like all of us when we were his age, he thinks he hates his life and hates everything around him. I can see something he can’t see yet, that I know one day he will be great in whatever he will end up doing. He has a good mind and has so many possibilities but all he sees at the moment is all the mistakes of the past and all the difficulties of the future. I wish I was his age again (nineteen) and I could redo my life of the last few years because I know I would do it a lot differently. He wishes he had a “normal” life like everyone else. My thought is that everyone does have a normal life according to whom or what they are. What we see in their lives is not the reality but what we perceive – in the same way, they look at us and think we have the normal life and they don’t. Everything is relative. The grass is not actually greener on the other side it’s just up to us what we make of the grass under our own feet. Procrastination is the worst crime ever and I’m the worst offender. Why leave off what you can do today for tomorrow? Tomorrow may not come and even if does there might be something else to concentrate on.
So here it is people! Carpe diem! Even if what you hope is going to happen doesn’t happen and that door closes don’t ignore the other door that opens… Fate is what you make of it. So if tomorrow doesn’t come let me tell you NOW that YOU are important and YOU matter and someone out there thinks you are wonderful even if it is your dog, cat or for me, my parrot and my mother (well, sometimes)!
LOVE LIFE AND MAKE IT LOVE YOU!
Monday, September 17, 2007
Friday, July 06, 2007
The Paraclete
In the words of His Holiness The Dalai Lama;
There is definitely something magically beautiful about Celtic music and singing. The spiritual echo and melodious wafting sound leave the soul and heart seemingly yearning for more. I am seated in my church with a congregation of about sixty or more and right now there is just silence. It is the first Friday of the month and people are invited to attend Exposition² of the Most Blessed Holy Sacrament. This month is being lead by the Guitar Choir and I like it when it is like this. They have a few religious readings and a few hymns but otherwise the majority of the time is spent in silence doing whatever the individual may want to do whether it is saying the Rosary, reflecting, going to confession, talking to God or just spending time with God and Jesus in whatever way you find suitable.
I love this Church probably because it is somewhere I have been going for the last twenty-five years give or take. I remember coming in from the farm way back when I was small and kinder of heart. I remember the Mutare Cathedral as well with Fr. Toner and Fr. McGivern of the Order of Carmelites but Mutare was not as prominent as my Fourth Street Cathedral. Mutare was only visited once in a while when we went down to visit Gran. Most of the time Gran would come to us and considering she has been dead for ten years now, Mutare has had no reason to be visited anymore.
The Sacred Heart Cathedral was for seven years across from my school, which although was the bane of my life in those days, I would still not have changed a thing. It was such things and people as Sr. Gundula, Mrs Glover, Mrs Leggett, Convent and the Cathedral with the many priests that I’ve known come and go that have moulded me through the years. I still remember Fr. Wolfe and seeing his walking stick in the door way when I would go to confession; Fr. McKenna and the way he used to remind me of a very happy duck fluffing his feathers as he sat down for the readings; Fr. McCabe and how I thought he was the tallest priest in those days and how he always walked or more the way he looked like Big Bird from Sesame Street tripping over his feet; Fr. Dale who wrote the Shona Dictionaries that I graffitied while sitting bored stiff in Shona lessons – he sadly died this year. While I sat at his funeral I remembered asking him (back in the day) why no Unicorns had been taken on to Noah’s Ark – I’m sure he gave me a really sensible reason and of course he responded to my question as if it was a very intelligent and pertinent subject which was so typical of Fr. Dale’s kindness. Now we have Fr. Berry, Fr. Liberski, Fr. Dandiro, the occasional visiting priest and of course last but not least my wonderful Fr. Meiring who is as old as the Ark of the Covenant but is the most sincerely beautiful person I know with a heart so true, holy and full of love but at the same time, he can still throw a quick right punch and he’ll take great delight in telling you. He is my idea of a living Saint.
Now don’t get me wrong! I am NOT perfect and definitely not holier than thou…far from it! I’ve left the church in the past. More because I was fighting with my mother and leaving the church was the one way I knew I could hurt her the most. Also I didn’t appreciate what I have been brought up with and taken for granted for so long.
However, in the end the only person that it truly hurt was me and no one else. Let’s just say that I’ve been away from my church, my religion and my faith and I’ve learnt what it is like and I came back of my own free will. I enjoy doing the readings every second Sunday not because I get a few moments infront of the congregation but because it feels so good to be able to allow God to speak through you in a world that doesn’t really allow one to do so very often.
What I really enjoy in my church is this wonderful feeling of peace of mind, body and soul. I know when I step into the Cathedral there is no question to the fact that all is right in the world, maybe not perfect but that is mainly because of people and their abounding greed and hatred. When in the Cathedral I know God is here, on the earth and all around us. I don’t have to look for Him, I know Jesus and God my Father in heaven with the Holy Spirit as the Trinity become One, is home in His Church and most importantly no matter the hardships we go through He is always with His people.
Now I know I’m sounding like a religious freak – that may be so. I could sit here and blame my mother for being a religious maniac herself though she would say she isn’t and I could say my father was too open minded – he had been brought up Methodist but never kept mom or me away from the Catholic side of life. He believe in UFO’s, angels, saints and spirits and even though he was not a religious man he was an extremely spiritual man who kept to a time table not only in his work but his daily prayers where every single person he had known was prayed for. I blame no one though, not for my past failings and not for my present beliefs and what ever happens in the future is, I believe already set out for me, before I was even thought of. That said I would rather be a religious freak and have a faith that I know and trust in fully than to have nothing and so live and die with emptiness.
I know I am a sinner and at every possible moment I beg my God for forgiveness.
Responsibility
does not only lie with the leaders of our countries or with those who have been
appointed or elected to do a particular job. It lies with each of us
individually. Peace, for example, starts within each one of us. When we have
inner peace, we can be at peace with those around us.
There is definitely something magically beautiful about Celtic music and singing. The spiritual echo and melodious wafting sound leave the soul and heart seemingly yearning for more. I am seated in my church with a congregation of about sixty or more and right now there is just silence. It is the first Friday of the month and people are invited to attend Exposition² of the Most Blessed Holy Sacrament. This month is being lead by the Guitar Choir and I like it when it is like this. They have a few religious readings and a few hymns but otherwise the majority of the time is spent in silence doing whatever the individual may want to do whether it is saying the Rosary, reflecting, going to confession, talking to God or just spending time with God and Jesus in whatever way you find suitable.
I love this Church probably because it is somewhere I have been going for the last twenty-five years give or take. I remember coming in from the farm way back when I was small and kinder of heart. I remember the Mutare Cathedral as well with Fr. Toner and Fr. McGivern of the Order of Carmelites but Mutare was not as prominent as my Fourth Street Cathedral. Mutare was only visited once in a while when we went down to visit Gran. Most of the time Gran would come to us and considering she has been dead for ten years now, Mutare has had no reason to be visited anymore.
The Sacred Heart Cathedral was for seven years across from my school, which although was the bane of my life in those days, I would still not have changed a thing. It was such things and people as Sr. Gundula, Mrs Glover, Mrs Leggett, Convent and the Cathedral with the many priests that I’ve known come and go that have moulded me through the years. I still remember Fr. Wolfe and seeing his walking stick in the door way when I would go to confession; Fr. McKenna and the way he used to remind me of a very happy duck fluffing his feathers as he sat down for the readings; Fr. McCabe and how I thought he was the tallest priest in those days and how he always walked or more the way he looked like Big Bird from Sesame Street tripping over his feet; Fr. Dale who wrote the Shona Dictionaries that I graffitied while sitting bored stiff in Shona lessons – he sadly died this year. While I sat at his funeral I remembered asking him (back in the day) why no Unicorns had been taken on to Noah’s Ark – I’m sure he gave me a really sensible reason and of course he responded to my question as if it was a very intelligent and pertinent subject which was so typical of Fr. Dale’s kindness. Now we have Fr. Berry, Fr. Liberski, Fr. Dandiro, the occasional visiting priest and of course last but not least my wonderful Fr. Meiring who is as old as the Ark of the Covenant but is the most sincerely beautiful person I know with a heart so true, holy and full of love but at the same time, he can still throw a quick right punch and he’ll take great delight in telling you. He is my idea of a living Saint.
Now don’t get me wrong! I am NOT perfect and definitely not holier than thou…far from it! I’ve left the church in the past. More because I was fighting with my mother and leaving the church was the one way I knew I could hurt her the most. Also I didn’t appreciate what I have been brought up with and taken for granted for so long.
However, in the end the only person that it truly hurt was me and no one else. Let’s just say that I’ve been away from my church, my religion and my faith and I’ve learnt what it is like and I came back of my own free will. I enjoy doing the readings every second Sunday not because I get a few moments infront of the congregation but because it feels so good to be able to allow God to speak through you in a world that doesn’t really allow one to do so very often.
What I really enjoy in my church is this wonderful feeling of peace of mind, body and soul. I know when I step into the Cathedral there is no question to the fact that all is right in the world, maybe not perfect but that is mainly because of people and their abounding greed and hatred. When in the Cathedral I know God is here, on the earth and all around us. I don’t have to look for Him, I know Jesus and God my Father in heaven with the Holy Spirit as the Trinity become One, is home in His Church and most importantly no matter the hardships we go through He is always with His people.
Now I know I’m sounding like a religious freak – that may be so. I could sit here and blame my mother for being a religious maniac herself though she would say she isn’t and I could say my father was too open minded – he had been brought up Methodist but never kept mom or me away from the Catholic side of life. He believe in UFO’s, angels, saints and spirits and even though he was not a religious man he was an extremely spiritual man who kept to a time table not only in his work but his daily prayers where every single person he had known was prayed for. I blame no one though, not for my past failings and not for my present beliefs and what ever happens in the future is, I believe already set out for me, before I was even thought of. That said I would rather be a religious freak and have a faith that I know and trust in fully than to have nothing and so live and die with emptiness.
I know I am a sinner and at every possible moment I beg my God for forgiveness.
“God, I thank thee that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week, I give tithes of all that I get.” But he tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, “God, be merciful to me a sinner!” Luke 18:11-14
I have made millions of mistakes but I have come through them a little wiser and still learning. I don’t expect everything to be perfect for if life was perfect what are we learning from life and this life is all about learning. The great prize at the end is strangely enough death. It may not feel like a gift when our loved ones die and it never feels the same to know that they are still with us but in a spiritual form instead of the physical aspect. It would make it a hundred percent easier if I could fight with dad like I did in the old days about politics, religion, law and justice and ask him face to face why the hell did he have to die but instead people etch round the subject and he doesn’t have to justify being dead. I still know he is with me though…
However, I digress as per usual….
What I find in the Cathedral is a form of inspiration. Being a aspiring writer and if given a choice of places to go in order to find inspiration for my writings the Sacred Heart Cathedral would be one of my first choices or indeed most Catholic Churches that I have been in including Brompton Oratory and St. Cecilia's Abbey on the Isle of Wight. It is not because I have been appropriately brainwashed into believing “a deity” is present and because I’ve been taught about the light at the back of every Catholic Church near the Sanctuary signifying that presence but because I feel Him there. I know whether it by six sixth, gut feeling or simply faith that I am in the “Real Presence” of my God, Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ.
On a night like tonight, with the Blessed Sacrament correctly displayed upon Its thrown in the ornate and beautiful Monstrance which is placed on the altar, I can truly remember why I am not only alive but why I am Catholic and most importantly why I am Christian. As St. Padre Pio said;
However, I digress as per usual….
What I find in the Cathedral is a form of inspiration. Being a aspiring writer and if given a choice of places to go in order to find inspiration for my writings the Sacred Heart Cathedral would be one of my first choices or indeed most Catholic Churches that I have been in including Brompton Oratory and St. Cecilia's Abbey on the Isle of Wight. It is not because I have been appropriately brainwashed into believing “a deity” is present and because I’ve been taught about the light at the back of every Catholic Church near the Sanctuary signifying that presence but because I feel Him there. I know whether it by six sixth, gut feeling or simply faith that I am in the “Real Presence” of my God, Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ.
On a night like tonight, with the Blessed Sacrament correctly displayed upon Its thrown in the ornate and beautiful Monstrance which is placed on the altar, I can truly remember why I am not only alive but why I am Catholic and most importantly why I am Christian. As St. Padre Pio said;
Do you know what religion is? It is a school in which every soul must be trained, smoothed and polished by the Holy Spirit, who acts as a physician to our souls until, well smoothed and polished, they can be united and joined to the will of God....Religion is an infirmary for the spiritually sick, who wish to be cured and must therefore undergo the pains of surgery.
¹Paraclete comes from the Koine Greek word (Parakletos) meaning "one who consoles - a comforter" or "one who intercedes on our behalf - an advocate". The Early Church identified the Paraclete as the Holy Spirit (Acts 1:5,1:8,2:4,2:38) and Christians continue to use Paraclete as a title for God's Spirit.
²Exposition is a manner of honouring the Holy Eucharist, by exposing It, with proper solemnity, to the view of the faithful in order that they may pay their devotions before It.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Zimbabwe!
Check these out for the current news.
ZWNews
The Zimbabwean
The Zimbabwe Times
The Zimbabwe Situation
SW Radio Africa
Just to keep us all so happy!!
ZWNews
The Zimbabwean
The Zimbabwe Times
The Zimbabwe Situation
SW Radio Africa
Just to keep us all so happy!!
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Bad Hair Day! (See the signs)
Theoretically I am having a “bad hair day” or rather a “bad man moment”! I seam to be saying and doing all the wrong things or being literally in the wrong place at the wrong time and should never have got out of bed this month “moment”!
Firstly I have worn more makeup in the last two and a half weeks than I’ve probably ever worn in my entire life because of ‘Fiddler on the Roof’. Makeup not being one my favourite pass times unless I am going out and actually want to look “good” for a particular reason or rather usually a particular person.
However, the belief is that the majority of women put on makeup not to impress men (which is probably a good thing because men don’t actually know when we have it on or not, usually) but in fact women put makeup on because of other women. This is not a homosexual thing or anything but the natural instinct of competitiveness and wanting to look better than all the other girls.
Considering I spent most of my younger life being a tom-boy with a father who called me “Mr. Ted” and inspired me with the confidence that I could do anything and everything; a mother who owned a farm and looked as much at home with six dogs as she had when she had been dancing in ‘My Fair Lady’; a much older and taller brother who I thought was amazingly “cool” with very cool friends; a grandmother who tried for years to get me to wear pretty dresses; and a menagerie of teddy bears, who are safely stored in some trunk and a couple of poor dolls which experienced my skills with scissors by having their long locks cut to a style of cru cut or bald! Yes the teddy bears were more favoured. My father took me rifle shooting while my mother and I looked after chickens and geese and any stray animals and birds that we happened across. Most of my senior schooling was spent with short hair and trying to “fit in”. I was raised to be very strong willed, an individual, opinionated and yes, a pain in the ass (if needs be).
However, I like everyone else do have my moments when the world just doesn’t seem to be the right place to be at that point in time. Right now seems to be one of those…. When one is feeling kinda fragile it would be great to be able to wear a sign that says “HANDLE WITH CARE”. Just as it would be really convenient to be able to put up signs that say “Laugh”, “Applaud”, “Hug”, “Leave alone because right now is not a good time to annoy….unless you really do want to die!”
Instead we have to continually wear a sign of smiles and “I’m fine” when really we aren’t.
So for all of those who are not in the know… Here are some facts of life! I don’t like the fact that every now and again I break out in spots but they happen! It happens for a number of reasons: stress, make-up, PMS, allergies, or even the weather, to name a few and sometimes one gets all of those at the same time! When someone comes up and asks what happened to your face and whether you were attacked by a rabid cat, doesn’t somehow make one feel any better! I know the spots are there and other than sticking my head in the ground or covering it up again with make-up which may have already been part of the cause…I’m having to live with it until they go….you, (whoever you may be) on the other hand (and now I feel like Garfield) thankfully, I don’t even have to pretend to like!
I only wish I had actually said this to the offender in question! I instead smiled sweetly and tried to laugh it off….
PMS is another fact of life. Theoretically just because men can’t prove they have monthly periods I still believe they do have them mentally and emotionally and sometimes they seem to have these on a weekly basis!
However, men don’t know just how lucky they are! They don’t have to deal with cramps, feeling extra fat and generally blah, water retention (to name but a few examples) and these days, especially considering we live in the glorious sunny Zimbabwe, working out whether one should fork out the millions on food or a fancy form of cotton wool unfortunately required for such times of the month! Also, the day men carry the equivalent weight of a bag of 10kg (give or take) roller meal in their bellies for nine months and give birth to that same bag of roller meal naturally, then and only then will I listen to what they think about women and PMS. When that happens I know I will one of quite a few happy women!
My final note is that I would like to know what kind of man it takes to strike a woman? Most of my friends have been male and there is not many if any of them that I would say would be able to hit a woman. Some of those guys have gone and still go out with some right scary women but they have never and would never hit these girls, which is probably why I’m friends with them. From my experience most guys do have a sense of humour and know that when a girl lightly punches a guy’s arm in a friendly way it isn’t a sign of aggression and is usually meant in a joking way!?? Or am I mistaken? I learnt this last week that there are some people you can do that with and some people you can not! Some people suddenly turn round and say if you do that again, I’m going to hit you and send you flying across the room! Strangely enough the tone of voice told me not to dare this comment so I refrained from knocking his arm or anything again! A few who were witness to this wanted to see if he would actually carry out his threat – I wasn’t that desperate. I was sorry to note that I am old family friends with his fiancée and I’m not quite sure if she has the best person available. Then again I have my doubts on my own judgements….
Firstly I have worn more makeup in the last two and a half weeks than I’ve probably ever worn in my entire life because of ‘Fiddler on the Roof’. Makeup not being one my favourite pass times unless I am going out and actually want to look “good” for a particular reason or rather usually a particular person.
However, the belief is that the majority of women put on makeup not to impress men (which is probably a good thing because men don’t actually know when we have it on or not, usually) but in fact women put makeup on because of other women. This is not a homosexual thing or anything but the natural instinct of competitiveness and wanting to look better than all the other girls.
Considering I spent most of my younger life being a tom-boy with a father who called me “Mr. Ted” and inspired me with the confidence that I could do anything and everything; a mother who owned a farm and looked as much at home with six dogs as she had when she had been dancing in ‘My Fair Lady’; a much older and taller brother who I thought was amazingly “cool” with very cool friends; a grandmother who tried for years to get me to wear pretty dresses; and a menagerie of teddy bears, who are safely stored in some trunk and a couple of poor dolls which experienced my skills with scissors by having their long locks cut to a style of cru cut or bald! Yes the teddy bears were more favoured. My father took me rifle shooting while my mother and I looked after chickens and geese and any stray animals and birds that we happened across. Most of my senior schooling was spent with short hair and trying to “fit in”. I was raised to be very strong willed, an individual, opinionated and yes, a pain in the ass (if needs be).
However, I like everyone else do have my moments when the world just doesn’t seem to be the right place to be at that point in time. Right now seems to be one of those…. When one is feeling kinda fragile it would be great to be able to wear a sign that says “HANDLE WITH CARE”. Just as it would be really convenient to be able to put up signs that say “Laugh”, “Applaud”, “Hug”, “Leave alone because right now is not a good time to annoy….unless you really do want to die!”
Instead we have to continually wear a sign of smiles and “I’m fine” when really we aren’t.
So for all of those who are not in the know… Here are some facts of life! I don’t like the fact that every now and again I break out in spots but they happen! It happens for a number of reasons: stress, make-up, PMS, allergies, or even the weather, to name a few and sometimes one gets all of those at the same time! When someone comes up and asks what happened to your face and whether you were attacked by a rabid cat, doesn’t somehow make one feel any better! I know the spots are there and other than sticking my head in the ground or covering it up again with make-up which may have already been part of the cause…I’m having to live with it until they go….you, (whoever you may be) on the other hand (and now I feel like Garfield) thankfully, I don’t even have to pretend to like!
I only wish I had actually said this to the offender in question! I instead smiled sweetly and tried to laugh it off….
PMS is another fact of life. Theoretically just because men can’t prove they have monthly periods I still believe they do have them mentally and emotionally and sometimes they seem to have these on a weekly basis!
However, men don’t know just how lucky they are! They don’t have to deal with cramps, feeling extra fat and generally blah, water retention (to name but a few examples) and these days, especially considering we live in the glorious sunny Zimbabwe, working out whether one should fork out the millions on food or a fancy form of cotton wool unfortunately required for such times of the month! Also, the day men carry the equivalent weight of a bag of 10kg (give or take) roller meal in their bellies for nine months and give birth to that same bag of roller meal naturally, then and only then will I listen to what they think about women and PMS. When that happens I know I will one of quite a few happy women!
My final note is that I would like to know what kind of man it takes to strike a woman? Most of my friends have been male and there is not many if any of them that I would say would be able to hit a woman. Some of those guys have gone and still go out with some right scary women but they have never and would never hit these girls, which is probably why I’m friends with them. From my experience most guys do have a sense of humour and know that when a girl lightly punches a guy’s arm in a friendly way it isn’t a sign of aggression and is usually meant in a joking way!?? Or am I mistaken? I learnt this last week that there are some people you can do that with and some people you can not! Some people suddenly turn round and say if you do that again, I’m going to hit you and send you flying across the room! Strangely enough the tone of voice told me not to dare this comment so I refrained from knocking his arm or anything again! A few who were witness to this wanted to see if he would actually carry out his threat – I wasn’t that desperate. I was sorry to note that I am old family friends with his fiancée and I’m not quite sure if she has the best person available. Then again I have my doubts on my own judgements….
Friday, June 22, 2007
"Law" vs "Right"
It is amazing how we will let other religions get away with whatever they like for the sake of being “politically correct” and yet we can not stand up for our own without being thought of as crazy or fanatical! Check this out: "Chastity Ring Teen In High Court Case"
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Children and birds.
The joys of having a parrot!!! Well, other than I get to freak people out when I tell them I have a son and watch the shocked expression on their faces followed by the relieved joy when I introduce them to my green feathered spoilt child!
His name is Typsy (Typs for short) or Tweedle-dee or Twinx (as my mother calls him) and others may remember him as Squawk. He is a Blue-Fronted Amazon Parrot, this being evident in the blue colour found at the top of his beak, which would be the very front of his head. As he has matured I have noticed a growing blueness on his chest feathers. He has red colouration underneath his wings as well as a mixture of red and yellow on the lapels of his wings. He also has yellow on his head….its hard to explain without painting a picture, basically he is not an African Grey and as far as I’m concerned, much more beautiful!
As you may have gathered I’m a sucker for my bird. He does get told off when he does something he shouldn’t – and don’t ever think they don’t understand you because whether it be by the tone of one’s voice or words he has gotten used to, these birds do understand a lot more than we would like.
What has always remained the funniest moment in my mind is when someone, who shall remain nameless (but let it be known that “he” was a pain in my life a while ago), decided to teach my bird swear words, to not only irritate me but most especially my mother. The person in question would happily tell me that the bird was learning the words but when ever I came back into the room the bird wouldn’t say the words until…. One day all of us were sitting in the lounge eating, Typs was voicing his opinion at this moment, most likely because he wanted some of my food too, either way, my bird was happy and the person shouted at him to shut-up, to which Typs responded “F**k off!” This has been the only time I’ve heard my bird swear and appropriately it was at the person who taught him. Understandably, all of us who were in the room were highly amused except for the offender, of course.
The liabilities of having a parrot is every now and again they do forget their place and the fact that their beaks can do a lot of damage. My fingers and my face know this all too well! However, at the same time I do except responsibility for the times that I have done something to provoke him. All in all for the two years that Typs has been with me he has probably only bitten me badly four or five times – two of those was on the same day I got him! The rest of the time these birds do crave a lot of attention and love.
Whatever you do, if you are thinking of getting a pet of any kind but for instance a parrot be ready for your life to be changed. They are like children, your responsibility. The one thing that I have learnt is parrots have a very good memory. When I got Typs he had been in another family and hadn’t been happy. The family got rid of him because apparently he wasn’t a “people bird” and only wanted to stay in his cage.
They apparently did have kids and if there is one thing I know, kids with animals don’t always go well – it scares me some times what children will do to animals. I’ve seen a boy of six torment a frog until I got it away from him! That same boy thought it was a good idea to put his new kitten in a pillow-case and spin it round a room because that’s what his granny thought of cats. The cat did survive.
Typsy is now a completely different bird to the one I got. He still avoids children (which could be sensible) but the last place he wants to be is his cage and the first place he wants to be is with human company. Of course if you have ice-cream, then he loves you even more! The most amazing thing is how people always approach birds with their fingers outstretched towards their beaks and then they wonder why they get bitten…. What I have learnt is if Typs likes you, you will know and apparently there are people out there that he automatically likes and wants to climb on to their shoulders. Otherwise they are like cats, they will come to you when they are good and ready and like dogs, they love “their” people fully; just don’t expect them to roll over and play dead! And like children don’t expect them to make your life easy….. but you will never regret it!
His name is Typsy (Typs for short) or Tweedle-dee or Twinx (as my mother calls him) and others may remember him as Squawk. He is a Blue-Fronted Amazon Parrot, this being evident in the blue colour found at the top of his beak, which would be the very front of his head. As he has matured I have noticed a growing blueness on his chest feathers. He has red colouration underneath his wings as well as a mixture of red and yellow on the lapels of his wings. He also has yellow on his head….its hard to explain without painting a picture, basically he is not an African Grey and as far as I’m concerned, much more beautiful!
As you may have gathered I’m a sucker for my bird. He does get told off when he does something he shouldn’t – and don’t ever think they don’t understand you because whether it be by the tone of one’s voice or words he has gotten used to, these birds do understand a lot more than we would like.
What has always remained the funniest moment in my mind is when someone, who shall remain nameless (but let it be known that “he” was a pain in my life a while ago), decided to teach my bird swear words, to not only irritate me but most especially my mother. The person in question would happily tell me that the bird was learning the words but when ever I came back into the room the bird wouldn’t say the words until…. One day all of us were sitting in the lounge eating, Typs was voicing his opinion at this moment, most likely because he wanted some of my food too, either way, my bird was happy and the person shouted at him to shut-up, to which Typs responded “F**k off!” This has been the only time I’ve heard my bird swear and appropriately it was at the person who taught him. Understandably, all of us who were in the room were highly amused except for the offender, of course.
The liabilities of having a parrot is every now and again they do forget their place and the fact that their beaks can do a lot of damage. My fingers and my face know this all too well! However, at the same time I do except responsibility for the times that I have done something to provoke him. All in all for the two years that Typs has been with me he has probably only bitten me badly four or five times – two of those was on the same day I got him! The rest of the time these birds do crave a lot of attention and love.
Whatever you do, if you are thinking of getting a pet of any kind but for instance a parrot be ready for your life to be changed. They are like children, your responsibility. The one thing that I have learnt is parrots have a very good memory. When I got Typs he had been in another family and hadn’t been happy. The family got rid of him because apparently he wasn’t a “people bird” and only wanted to stay in his cage.
They apparently did have kids and if there is one thing I know, kids with animals don’t always go well – it scares me some times what children will do to animals. I’ve seen a boy of six torment a frog until I got it away from him! That same boy thought it was a good idea to put his new kitten in a pillow-case and spin it round a room because that’s what his granny thought of cats. The cat did survive.
Typsy is now a completely different bird to the one I got. He still avoids children (which could be sensible) but the last place he wants to be is his cage and the first place he wants to be is with human company. Of course if you have ice-cream, then he loves you even more! The most amazing thing is how people always approach birds with their fingers outstretched towards their beaks and then they wonder why they get bitten…. What I have learnt is if Typs likes you, you will know and apparently there are people out there that he automatically likes and wants to climb on to their shoulders. Otherwise they are like cats, they will come to you when they are good and ready and like dogs, they love “their” people fully; just don’t expect them to roll over and play dead! And like children don’t expect them to make your life easy….. but you will never regret it!
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Relationship question?
Ok, I’ve decided I am not good at this “relationship” or “dating” lark. For one I am way too fussy for my own good and secondly I have the lowest self-confidence ever when it comes to someone I actually like and showing them this fact! For the rest of the time I can flirt like crazy but when my heart becomes involved, my body, constant verbal wit (rubbish) and overly friendly character/personality take twenty paces backward and I lose all confidence!
To be absolutely honest I’m petrified of firstly being rejected but most importantly being hurt. This is of course what most of us have been through and apparently, as I’ve learnt, pain is part of the cycle of life only it changes in quality, quantity, time and effect.
The metaphysical version of the heart is such a curious item. When you fall in love you suddenly feel these literal aches in places you didn’t know existed to the point you can actually feel where your physical heart is and you feel invigorated by this new sensation that runs through your body colouring every aspect of your life. At the same time you feel exhausted and you spend so much time waiting…. One’s mind is constantly playing over every conversation, look and smile. Did I say something stupid or was I actually making intelligent conversation! Well, ok, maybe not “intelligent” but so long as I didn’t make a fool of myself, I would be eternally grateful!
With people who are looking for sexual gratification, one doesn’t have to be clever or witty or particularly intelligent; you only have to worry about whether the skirt is short enough or the top showing enough cleavage (this is of course from a female perspective). The perfect example is this one friend I have who spends his entire evening when he goes out scanning the scene looking for the ever eager “short skirt”. He is the perfect example of what I imagine the primitive cave-man was like; hunt, find woman, drag back to cave and finish every conversation with “ug”!
So we have determined that I have no time for “cave-men” and I can assure you that there are plenty out there! Let me describe someone who is different then. Someone who inspires me – yes, I still want to try and make myself pretty for him but I am constantly looking forward to our next conversation. Somehow he can make me feel amazingly good about myself every time I see him. I can laugh so much about anything and everything that you wonder why you can’t feel like this always. To be able to talk about anything from fried eggs (I’m making an example, we haven’t discussed those) to the emperors new clothes (an example of the possibility of politics)! I’m talking rubbish again….but it makes sense in my head! Of course I find him very attractive as well which, is a plus. I love the way he smiles and laughs; the way he laughs with his eyes and even when he looks so serious and pensive.
First impressions are always important and my first impression of him was perfect, better than I have ever known and every time I’ve seen him since, my impression of him has only improved.
I digress though! Now that I’ve made my confession of the year and completely over shared! What I really want to know is; can a girl ask a guy out? Is it too forward and brazen? Does it scare guys or does it thrill them? Do they want to do the chasing or would they mind a girl telling them she likes them? Somehow this makes me think of the film “Notting Hill” when the female character played by Julia Roberts says, she’s just a girl standing infront of a boy, telling him she loves him and asking him to love her. Ok, it might not be exactly word for word correct but it is my point.
My uncle apparently used to have an expression; grab the bull by the horns and kill it! That was how he tried to approach everything in his life especially those things he would have preferred to leave to the last minute, as well all do. I like to use this as my inspiration but sometimes it’s easier said than done. It would however be something worth remembering – to live life with gusto instead of regret and inhibitions. For one or rather for me to say to “Mr X”, I like you, if you don’t like me that is fine but I want you to know that there is someone in this world that thinks you are great, with a beautiful mind and wonderful spirit. I am not something to be afraid of and my feelings are not something to be afraid of either but rather treasured. We are all only human looking for something to love and most of all something to care about.
To be absolutely honest I’m petrified of firstly being rejected but most importantly being hurt. This is of course what most of us have been through and apparently, as I’ve learnt, pain is part of the cycle of life only it changes in quality, quantity, time and effect.
The metaphysical version of the heart is such a curious item. When you fall in love you suddenly feel these literal aches in places you didn’t know existed to the point you can actually feel where your physical heart is and you feel invigorated by this new sensation that runs through your body colouring every aspect of your life. At the same time you feel exhausted and you spend so much time waiting…. One’s mind is constantly playing over every conversation, look and smile. Did I say something stupid or was I actually making intelligent conversation! Well, ok, maybe not “intelligent” but so long as I didn’t make a fool of myself, I would be eternally grateful!
With people who are looking for sexual gratification, one doesn’t have to be clever or witty or particularly intelligent; you only have to worry about whether the skirt is short enough or the top showing enough cleavage (this is of course from a female perspective). The perfect example is this one friend I have who spends his entire evening when he goes out scanning the scene looking for the ever eager “short skirt”. He is the perfect example of what I imagine the primitive cave-man was like; hunt, find woman, drag back to cave and finish every conversation with “ug”!
So we have determined that I have no time for “cave-men” and I can assure you that there are plenty out there! Let me describe someone who is different then. Someone who inspires me – yes, I still want to try and make myself pretty for him but I am constantly looking forward to our next conversation. Somehow he can make me feel amazingly good about myself every time I see him. I can laugh so much about anything and everything that you wonder why you can’t feel like this always. To be able to talk about anything from fried eggs (I’m making an example, we haven’t discussed those) to the emperors new clothes (an example of the possibility of politics)! I’m talking rubbish again….but it makes sense in my head! Of course I find him very attractive as well which, is a plus. I love the way he smiles and laughs; the way he laughs with his eyes and even when he looks so serious and pensive.
First impressions are always important and my first impression of him was perfect, better than I have ever known and every time I’ve seen him since, my impression of him has only improved.
I digress though! Now that I’ve made my confession of the year and completely over shared! What I really want to know is; can a girl ask a guy out? Is it too forward and brazen? Does it scare guys or does it thrill them? Do they want to do the chasing or would they mind a girl telling them she likes them? Somehow this makes me think of the film “Notting Hill” when the female character played by Julia Roberts says, she’s just a girl standing infront of a boy, telling him she loves him and asking him to love her. Ok, it might not be exactly word for word correct but it is my point.
My uncle apparently used to have an expression; grab the bull by the horns and kill it! That was how he tried to approach everything in his life especially those things he would have preferred to leave to the last minute, as well all do. I like to use this as my inspiration but sometimes it’s easier said than done. It would however be something worth remembering – to live life with gusto instead of regret and inhibitions. For one or rather for me to say to “Mr X”, I like you, if you don’t like me that is fine but I want you to know that there is someone in this world that thinks you are great, with a beautiful mind and wonderful spirit. I am not something to be afraid of and my feelings are not something to be afraid of either but rather treasured. We are all only human looking for something to love and most of all something to care about.
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