Round To It… Or Getting Things Done

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Once upon a time there was a fairy, and her name was Roundtuit. She tried to be kind, and she tried to be good, so as a result of this, people were always asking her to do things for them.

She didn’t mind – how could she, for she was nothing if not a good-natured and pleasant fairy. Consequently, every passing squirrel popped in for a manicure, every travelling hedgehog, a haircut, and the neighbourhood foxes, a regular shampoo.

Added to this, the fairy villagers were forever popping by asking for help with little odd-jobs, like brushing the mushrooms and beating the dust out of the moss. All the poor fairy could do was say cheerfully: “Oh yes, I’m getting round to it!”

Her own house fell into disrepair, her neatly painted shutters began to flake and warp, while her garden became overgrown and unkempt.

After another day of helping everybody – she had re-varnished some ladybirds so they were bright and shiny again and helped several sparrows with their dust baths – Roundtuit came in, looked at her formally pristine and sparkling home, now shabby and dirty with piles of washing up left in the sink growing mould, she burst into tears.

And so it was, half an hour later, her friends found her sobbing on a heap of broken promises, spoiled dreams and dirty disappointments. Her friends’ names were Help, Hope and Reachout.

In no time at all, Roundtuit’s little home was sparkling and cosy once again, and all her jobs for the fairies and creatures of the community had been completed.

So, the moral of the story is: don’t always say you’re getting Roundtuit – Reachout in Hope and Help will be found.



What Am I?
The emotions, the blood, the feelings.
Leave them.

Who Am I?
The memories, the experiences, the people.
Forget them.

Why Am I?
The purpose, the intentions, the desires.
Release them.

Reach out.
The being and not-being
Strip away the state of being
Construct and artifice.

The dark. The un-becoming.
Strip away the self
Still the conscious.

The being and un-being
The peace that passes
All understanding


The not-being, the
Wholeness and
The dark.

The peace. The quiet.
The silence. The love.


Ironing… With Cats


As you may have gathered from this little series, having four cats means we spend a lot of time together… doing things… and while their help and advice is not always appreciated, their company and love certainly is!

1. Remove Siamese from cupboard where the ironing board lives and take it out to set up in preparation for ironing the freshly washed and dried heap of laundry in the basket.

2. Remove large black cat from clean washing and sort out the items that need re-laundering due to muddy paw prints.


3. Fill lovely new iron with water, place in position and switch on in preparation.

4. Remove small black cat and Siamese from ironing board as they are having a punch up.

5. Scream and catch iron as a flailing paw knocks it.

6. Scream again – this time in fright – as tabby cat chooses this particular moment to launch herself from the back of the sofa to sit on your shoulder and offer advice about the best way to iron a shirt.


7. Remove large black cat from wash basket and sort out items that need re-laundering…

8. As son is at home, offer to teach him how to iron.

9. Remove Siamese from ironing board, tabby paw from eye and beg son to iron.

10. Decide that actually, Life is too short to iron… and put everything away, having first removed Siamese from cupboard where ironing board lives…


Agate and Agreeable Cats


Agate is perhaps one of the most easily recognisable crystals, it’s stable, versatile and wonderful at bringing emotional, physical and spiritual balance. It encourages agreement and union between positive and negative, yin and yang.

Slices of this crystal are used to make coasters…or clocks, like this one, a wonderful charity shop find and when sliced you can fully appreciate the beauty of its layered structure. So are we humans layered, emotions, feelings, experiences and memories. Agate brings self-acceptance and improves mental clarity, bringing the ability to look inside yourself with love and kindness.


This crystal can help you find inner harmony and begin to heal past hurts. It comes in a wide variety of colours, which will all work to benefit their matching chakras, as well as having the additional benefits associated with Agate… a stone as varied as cats…or people…and the key words to remember with this crystal are harmony, protection, strength and balance, concepts that are sorely needed in this day and age…

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Agreeable cats…” practically a contradiction in terms, but nowadays more and more cats are finding that they have to be agreeable and co-operate to a degree no self-respecting feline has ever previously done. My own four girls have come to a generally pleasant agreement…


Luckily, we have a large garden, so there is plenty of space for individual territories, and the house itself is divided into areas that belong to certain cats. The laptop is Lily’s… she likes to lie on it. Tooty has a scratch mat that she likes to lie on.


My bed can sometimes cause issues… all the cats like to spend time sleeping on the bed with me. Even when I’m not in it, actually, there are very definite micro-territories… the whole of my side belongs to Charlie. No dispute. No negotiation. The other side is divided into foot square pieces that belong to Lily, Ting and Tooty, although they will sometimes overlap, being sisters and not minding sharing too much.


I am fully aware, being mostly solitary myself, of just how much stress enforced contact with other cats can cause cats… therefore I have taken steps to ensure that my girls have every modern convenience… a catflap, scratch posts, scratch mats and furniture…but we won’t talk about that…water fountains and various beds in prime locations.

At some point, during the day, all of these will be used; but come bedtime, as if by some unwritten, unspoken agreement, my feline family will all come together and settle in my room to see me into the Land of Nod…


Ruins… And Rumbled!


As you might remember, I have mentioned in previous posts, I went to boarding school… what some of you may not know, is that I was actually expelled too… (sorry Dad) and a few months ago, I did promise one of my dear friends to tell the story. So, here you are, Garfield Hug! This one’s for you!

I was in the sixth form and weeks away from taking my “A” Level exams. I was bored, lonely and missing home, so over the wall at the bottom of the school grounds I headed, and off to our favourite bar to see what my older group of friends had planned. We all ranged in ages from sixteen to nineteen and one of the boys not only had his full driving licence, but also a very clapped out little old car…think glorified shopping trolley.

One of the older girls and her boyfriend were planning a romantic evening in the ruins of a castle in the countryside, a few miles outside the town. Of course, there were the inevitable rumours of ghosts, grey ladies and ghouls, the haunting screams of tortured souls were supposed to echo through the crumbling stones… I may have added a story of my own here… a mad monk forced to watch his holy brethren chopped to piece by Viking marauders, seeking revenge and wielding an altar cross as weapon for all eternity…


A romantic evening for two duly became an alcohol fuelled party of twelve… all travelling to the ruins in the shopping trolley car. You’ve seen these clown sketches where clowns just keep pouring out of one tiny little car…well that was us. In reverse. I occupied the footwell of the passenger side of the car.

We made it there, safe and sound, a little squashed, but well padded, since we also brought sleeping bags – I seem to recall someone had to carefully hold back the sleeping bags packed around the driver, so his vision wasn’t obscured…

We set up camp in what was, I presume, the Great Hall, lit a fire and set about becoming heavily infused with alcohol. Big time. It was freezing… we hadn’t seen, or heard anything out of the ordinary and inevitably fire and conversation dwindled, people fell asleep.

Not me: I was one of the diehards, and one of my few friends from the school and I thought it would be an absolutely splendid idea to climb to the top of the thirty foot ruined tower… ( Health and Safety would freak. Sometimes I’m surprised myself that I am still, more or less, in one piece..) One of the boys was still awake and thought he would do the gentlemanly thing and accompany us.


Picture the scene… three young people sat at the top of a crumbling heap of bricks that had first been put up in about 1070, or thereabouts, watching the sun come up. We passed a cigarette between the three of us, and shared a can of lager. The sun rose, and painted the countryside in wild mediaeval colour, mist wreathing gently between the trees… and I remembered I was supposed to be taking prep with a junior class that morning.


With the resilience of youth, we packed ourselves back into the car and drove carefully back. I was dropped off at the end of the school driveway and was walking nonchalantly back to House to get changed when out of the bushes, like a hideous troll, my House mistress, Mrs. C appeared.

WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” she bellowed at me, purple faced with rage.

Oh, just for a walk…” I replied, blushing and stammering…


The intervention of my room mate prevented this… but I was duly sent home in disgrace… luckily, it was half term, and my mother spent most of it pleading with Mrs. C to take me back to finish my exams.

I returned, shamed, but unrepentant, actually. It had been a good night out… I was grounded, required to sign a register to prove attendance everywhere I went and before the ink had even dried on my last paper, politely asked to leave.

Sometimes I feel like I ought to wish things had been different… but I don’t. That morning, with two people, vague friends, watching the sun rise over the hills, I believe I saw a things could be… the other side of the coin, the unexpected, the old… the forgotten…




My heart is filled with ghosts
Of the times when you
Were little,

The games we played
Adventures made
The life we shared together.

Now you are grown
And on your way
The time for me has passed.

Laughter and footsteps
In the chambers of my heart.

It is
As it should be.
And the days go by
Till I go home at last.