Grateful: Day 69 - Bounding Ginger Joy

Heeeee. I'm listening to some 'dirty beats' courtesy of HamZa, facebook, YouTube and Pleasurekraft. I don't often feel my age, but whenever I'm listening to pumpy, dirty, fat-beated tunes like this, I feel slightly inappropriate, like an auntie at the karaoke taking 'Je t'aime, moi non plus' a bit too far. It's not a bad feeling. Not until the morning, anyway.

A big, fat, tasty day with Catherine. Disturbed at the start by a work call from Germany. Really not the worst kind of disturbance. It was good to get back. Coffee and croissants in Feast, then walks in Queen's Wood, Highgate Wood and on Hampstead Heath. Queen's Wood was slightly spooky. You could imagine horrible deaths in there, or terrible frights at the very least.

However, a much nicer thing happened. A little girl (surrounded by other children and parents) had a tin full of chocolate brownies in her hand. As we approached, she looked full of anticipation, and all of a sudden, she reached out the tin and offered us a brownie. I took one. I couldn't not. The gesture was so sweet. I said thank you, and how nice. And my favourite bit, her mother said to her (genuinely, not in a fakey encouragement way) 'Aren't you nice!' I thought that was nice.

We walked and talked. Highgate Wood is much more open and airy, and prettier in a way. It brings thoughts (and visions) of bounding dogs and breezy trees. It still looked autumnal in parts - today was warm, which helped with that. From there, Hampstead Heath, Kenwood House, coffee and cake (as Catherine said, a nutritionally dubious day so far). And then another wander.

Catherine had just repeated her question to me: 'what do you want next year?' and I was looking up into my head for an answer when into my line of sight bounded a delicious, lean, ginger Viszla. I said 'I want one of those.' I know it's a bit facile, but I really, really do. There's something about them, and their energy, that I really identify with and admire. They are lean and muscular (I will be.. I will be!). They are very playful. Even the slightly older dogs have a twist of puppy about them. The seem not to lose their wide-eyed playfulness and boundy, gleeful energy. They're handsome though, rather than pretty. I think I'd prefer a girl (this one was very much a boy) but they are the Spekulos biscuit of dogs. I love them.

Of course, when I do get a dog, I'll get whichever dog I get. I suspect there'll be a touch of ginger glory or lean loveliness, but I'm sure it won't be entirely up to me. It does make me realise how very much I'd like one, though. I loved walking my dogs. I love the daily joy a dog brings, and the tiny gifts of wonder that you might otherwise forget. And the dog smell of them, and their unbridled joy whenever you come home.

I know my life would have to change entirely for that to be possible. But it's almost time it did anyway, so that's good. And I don't have to have my own yet. I'd love access to (and care of) a dog that belongs to someone else. That's fine. Just a bit of dog-flavoured action. I had loads today. The park was full of them. I saw Heidi again. A lean little boxer, all excitable and waggy. She's docked. They went especially to Ireland to get her because docking is still legal there. I may disagree with the sentiment, but that's not the dog's business anyway, is it. I very much enjoy that dog. She is a peach.

Ha ha. From dirty beats to Jacques Brel. Brilliant.

The Heath was just stunning today. Muddy and warm. Full of sunlight. Fat with berries. A great place to walk and talk. Back to the questions. I want a lot of things. Lots and lots. And the thing is, I know a lot of them will happen easily and flowily. That's partly a scary thought, but it's a good one too. I'll change. I'll have to. Events change people. We're changing all the time. Cells change. I don't mean 'oh, your cells change, so you're a different person', but just that everything changes, with our without our doing. We might as well accept it. It's hard - I find it hard, sometimes - to really get how much I can't be in control anyway, so why worry too much. I'll get there.

We got given holly too. Dangerous as fuck. I nearly blinded Catherine twice on the way home. But another unsolicited gift. We were passing an allotment where holly-hacking was happening. A gift doesn't have to cost someone else to be brilliant. Ruth and I had it as company at our festive haggis supper. It was mint.

This morning, the first email I read, after thinking 'shit - no more money coming in this month - not sure when any of the work I've done this month will get paid', one from Frank Partners saying 'We've just paid you for a job you did in October.' Result! Sometimes, being a little bit shit with things like invoicing has its upsides. Perfect, perfect, perfect. Thank you.

This evening we had a festive dinner, me and Ruth. The haggis I brought back from Scotland, proper mashed swede and garlic mashed potatoes, broccoli, gravy. Brilliant. And then a quite unfeasibly delicious lemon pudding that Ruth remembers (and has written down) from childhood. Just heavenly. And lots of time to sit and relax together and talk. Blessed times. We swapped presents. Very nice. Thank you. And we laughed a lot too. Thank you, thank you.

Oh, and I buffed a floor. That's a first. Lovely old wood, smelly varnish that's a bit of a moreish stink. Apply. Dry. Buff, buff, buff. Very satisfying.

No yoga. Too full. I will do a vajrasana*, for digestion and for my heart, which needs some work. I think a dog would do some good for that too. They tend to soften people. But today, I feel that there's not too much to fix. I'm full of fallibilities, easy tears, tightnesses and overly loose bits. I'm a bit fatter thanI'd like to be, and not quite as pretty. There are all sorts of things I could have/should have done, but all in good time. Right now, today, this second, maybe I'm just where I need to be. Maybe.

*Check out the through-copy on this! I love vajrasana. It looks entirely non-impressive. Feels amazing. No showboat headstand, this.