Saturday, October 7, 2017

New beginnings

The month of March was a month of many changes. I decided to follow Lent this year and gave up alchohol and meat - 40 days of giving my body a break from the routine intake of both seemed like a a grand idea. Coincidentally I also finished my last pill packet and was due to start again but life had other plans because my relationship of 3.5 years came to a crashing end on February 28th after  we watched Lion.

So on 1st  March I was meat, alcohol, pill and relationship free. Two by choice and the latter because he had been having doubts for a while about what he wanted in life and it became clear to him that the relationship was prohibiting him from his personal growth. I tried to fight but in the end had to accept that he needed this for himself and it was nothing personal. Easy to type that now that I've had some distance from it but at the time it felt as if my heart had been ripped out of my chest and then thrown onto a highway in peak hour traffic in Germany on the Aautobahn. I felt like all my dreams were shattered and there was no way I was going to make it through a minute let alone an hour.

Those were the internal feelings I did in fact continue with life - I tried my best to function despite the vacuum in the space where love once lived. I focused on all the dreams that were to evaporate. The unborn children and how lonely I would be without him by my side. I felt as if I had failed at love (again) and was sooo full of self pity and woe is me. I cried each time I told people the story. I cried each time I thought about the story. I cried when I deleted the photos of us from my phone. I cried when I looked in my cupboard and saw the dresses he'd recently bought me for my birthday....I did a lot of crying. I felt as if I were mourning the death of a loved one. I then got angry at myself for not being a better girlfriend. Then I got angry at him for putting me in that situation and then I felt sorry for myself again. I spoke to anyone who would listen about the pain and unfairness that had been thrust my way - my mom being my longest standing victim of woe stories.

I was not constantly a pain in the bum, there were many moments of acceptance, understanding, clarity but they were short lived between tears. I remember I had one day whereby I didn't cry for about 16 hours. And I was feeling bursts of happiness that were so beautiful amidst all the sorrow. Anyways to cut a long story short, on 31st March I made a decision to stop being a pain in the backside and stop with all the "luxury pain" there are people who are suffering atrocities on a daily basis that include absence of food, shelter, stability...not to mention others who are constantly exposed to death, war and disaster and there I was dying because a man whom I loved didn't want to be my life partner anymore. He never cheated on me, never beat me, never even said a bad word to me - he simply wasn't ready to take our relationship a step further. And then with the right neurons connected I woke up on Saturday feeling like a new person.

I had to put on my big girl shoes and go to Brisbane to speak at a Professional Development gathering for Queensland English Language schools. And Since that morning so much beauty has happened. Breaking free of the trap of self pity has opened up so many doors and it has only been three days. The realisation of how powerful our mind is has blown me away. I've theorised about it but I see now how easily one can fall into a trap of negative thoughts and how it can such you down into the pits...repeating the same negative story over and over again and giving no room for star gazing. I know that I'm not the first person to be left in the world and I certainly won't be the first.

Healing is a beautiful process. Falling in love with oneself is a gift. Friendship is magic.

(late post - written in April 2017)

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Being a new teacher and trying to do the RIGHT thing.

So....I've started teaching again which is absolutely wonderful. I thoroughly enjoy teaching and I'm much better at it than I was at fruit picking AND as I love people I am so happy to have that regular interaction and also the ability to share something that I know about - the English language. I've had a few days at the school covering and they were great - one day was less great but the rest of my cover days were superb - left me feeling amazing and for that I felt they were successful days. Yesterday was test day and again - successful day! The students did their preparation before the test and then did the test, marked the test and mission success! TODAY was for me an unsuccessful day as a teacher in my books and I came home feeling pretty bummed. SO many things that could go wrong in a classroom did and my reactions were not always as good as I would have liked them to be because I was trying soooooooooo hard to do a good job and follow the rules and I started teaching the lesson and not the learners. I failed today and I don't really like failing or feeling like I've failed. I don't think anyone does so it's not as if I have discovered a new emotion - but the overwhelmingness of the emotion caught me by surprise.

The day started alright - some error correction - some eliciting of vocabulary related to where people live - some ranking and then please open your books - and BAM everything went downhill from there. The moment you open the books some people really exploit the speaking exercises and enjoy the process - and then others say two words to one another and then complete all the rest of the exercises in the book because the quest to finish everything is more important that speaking and using the language and then my detailed plan on how I was going to transition on the next exercise is lost because 1/3 of the class have already done the exercise and are sitting there wanting to use their phone and all that I have to say is useless because alas the task is completed and thus why would they need to listen! ( I sound jaded but I'm purely speaking from my emotional point of view so excuse the slight irrationality of my thoughts). So then I was juggling some people who were firing though the exercises as exercises cause they've done it before...others learning it for the first time....others focusing on the talking and following instructions to a T. Then some expressed how BORING the subject was - others expressed how HARD the subject was and others just had their phone. THEN....one of my most diligent students started crying and then my most arrogant student became more arrogant and then I spent time trying to convince him that if he doesn't know something rather than saying yes I know it he should ask and I would do my best to assist him. Then I blew my fuze cause people were using their phones then I set a speaking task and they wanted to go outside and the half of the class that couldn't be bothered BEGGED me to let them go and do the speaking task outside. And I acquiesced and then they stayed out for 30 minutes (which was a relief cause I could pay attention to the other half that were in the class) and then they returned and it was obvious that they had done nothing out there but relax in the sun - which wasn't so bad but they LIED and told me they had been doing something but they hadn't been. Oh.....and then the class ended and I felt like a failure got home and CRIED like a baby!

Tomorrow is a new day and I'm sure it'll be better but for now wah wah wee wah is my feeling. I have over the period of writing this drank a glass of wine and have to admit I'm feeling better. I think when I taught at EF I was so used to the system of trying to move away from the book and teach the point then come back to the book and solidify what you have taught whereas now I'm trying to accomplish all the tasks in the book and also add extra stuff to jazz up the lesson. I'm also doing my best to teach all the points in the one session because I'm not the sole teacher of the group and don't yet feel the freedom to organise my week according to the whole picture but am focusing on the small blocks that need to be achieved in a day.

I still love teaching and I'm looking forward to going in tomorrow and consolidating what I feel was a mess.

Thursday, June 11, 2015

The Cleansing Rain

It's raining outside and has been intermittently doing so for the last 24 hours. The clouds dominate the sky, the shades of green on the trees are dampened, the floors are soggy and the air is fresh. I really like the atmosphere that rain brings with it and am particularly enjoying this release of water because we emptied the water tank and I was feeling awfully guilty about the long hot showers I've been enjoying this past month. I like knowing that the tank water is being replenished, the plants are being given some liquid loving and I feel a great sense of calm and relief.

I worked this morning in the pouring rain - I didn't want to use the raincoats provided because they make me hot and sweaty and less flexible when bending so I got REALLY wet. I started the day feeling a bit down - I thought it was just one of those days that one ought to just stay in bed and not offend the world with one's presence. It was a carry over from yesterday because I had my first day of relief teaching. I was SOOOO excited about getting to teach - I had spent two weeks looking forward to the day, I spent almost two hours putting together a riveting lesson, was super anxious the night before - woke up a few times thinking my alarm wouldn't go off at the right time, got to the school super early and had the classroom all set up and pumped with good vibrations. I was oozing positivity and begging for the acceptance of the group with my public charm turned onto a thousand. I had a good lesson (nothing spectacular but also I hope not boring) with some lovely students (6 different nationalities - Japan, Korea, France, Spain, Swiss, Saudi Arabia rep-representing) and then ...then... it ... was ... over! All the anticipation and built up feelings about FINALLY doing a day in the classroom and being a teacher and sharing time and space with students and then it ended and I felt like a deflated hot air balloon. I knew that the one day with the students was the end - I'd have to wait until the beginning of July to get the chance again.

I experienced an anti climax times one million and so I got home and like an empty zombie-ex-teacher just went with the empty flow of life that was presented. I ate, slept, woke, went to the farm, started picking and then...RAIN! Beautiful cleansing delicious rain came down and wet my clothes and wet my hat and wet my gloves and wet my hair and wet my skin and this amazing rain wet my already dampened mood and all of sudden I felt magnificent. I felt like the the rain had filled me up again, gave me a boost of energy and instead of a hot air balloon I became a well - full of glorious wet rain water. But it didn't stop there oh no! The clouds had a beautiful surprise in store for me.

I was bone chilled upon returning home and knowing that the tank was filling up I savoured my HOT warming shower, had a replenishing nap and woke up on the right side of the bed feeling like a million hot air balloons ready for action - a fleet ready for the journey to a new land filled with all the artisans, artists, farmers, nurses, doctor and teachers! And the rain continued to pitter patter outside and I got an email asking me to teach two days next week again!

A good day it has been thanks to the rain! The cleansing and generous rain.




Wednesday, May 27, 2015

A lot of Passion (fruit) in my Life!

Long distances between writing and in my mind I have had many a time that I wanted to write but to actually go the distance hasn't been my forte. I have moved back to Australia after having lived away for 10 years. I packed  up my life of four years in Cape Town and have now been here for 3 months. Here is the Sunshine Coast Hinterland where rather than the sound of traffic, the sound of Kookaburras tickles my ears. There are also some whip birds that whip my ears into action when ever they cry their cry to action. Trees are all around the house so my eyes are ever satisfied to see my favourite shades of green so often.

Life is a bit slower here than in The Mother City - things are a lot calmer too. My mind is calmer and I've had more opportunity to lose myself in books books beautiful books. I've fallen in love with Tom Robins and have re-established my deep relationship with Haruki Marukami. Tom takes me to a wild tangled head of hair filled with word-play and wildness. Haruki-San just wraps me up in his arms and transports me to a liminal dream state where upon the ordinary becomes extraordinary. He is gifted! I was unemployed for a while so reading really helped me give me a sense of purpose in this purpose driven world. I was struggling initially because I felt as if I no longer had any use - I felt as if being in the classroom at EF and on the stage with Bonfire was my one and only calling and to be unemployed doing nothing but swimming and playing tennis was the lowest I could fall on the meaning of life. It was but a short period of nothingness - eventually I realised this was a grand opportunity to enjoy my abundance of free time and I dove in with all enthusiasm and started doing things I love - like reading.

I now have a job! I am a Farm Labourer according to my superannuation form and my field of expertise is Agriculture more specifically Picking Passionfruit. I toyed with planting garlic for a couple of days which was the beginning of my Agricultural labouring - I couldn't walk properly for a week cause about a million new muscles had been brought to life no longer dormant they cried and cried like a new born baby shocked at the disaster that life outside the womb is. They made toilet sitting a chore and to have to pick something off the ground was a real faux pas in my physical vocabulary. Then I was poor and needed more of a purpose than reading Dance Dance Dance and the opportunity arose - To Pick Passion Fruit or NOT to Pick Passion Fruit. Arnold and I debated the pros and cons of having an income again and agreed the answer was to inject some Passion Fruit into our daily existence.

Every morning at 5.15am the alarm sings a sweat harmony luring me into the tangible world. The kookaburras and whip  bird then like a Greek Chorus support the lead Phone and I like a victim of fate rise to the call of adventure. Firstly though breakfast of champions then twenty minutes of Triple J listening to my frien Matt Okine making the world a funnier place. Gloves on, Hat balanced on my head the journey up and down the rows of Passion fruit then becomes my world for 3-5 hours. We are usually 5 - 7 pickers all armed with a bucket and lust for adventure. Up and down the rows we go bending down to save the fallen fruit from the sun which will shrivel it up into a passion prune. We fill the buckets up with which we use to then fill the crates which then get sent to shed which then get sorted and packed - the pretty fruit go to the stores where they're sold to customers wanting a bit of passion in their lives - the less attractive ones which might have had a touch of sun or just blemished from lack of nutrients get sent to the Juice Factory where they make sweet sweet passion punch! I have officially been a picker for 3 weeks. There are pros and cons as with everything in life! Pros being that my bank has become useful for storing the money that I make and I can buy coffee without crying that life was so much cheaper in Cape Town. Pros being that I can squat for 5 hours and not be as damaged as I was when I did two day of garlic planting. Pros being that when it's bed time my head hits the pillow and boy is sleep heavenly! More pros - I'm stronger, the nature is so beautiful, I appreciate food pickers more, I have time to job hunt for the rest of the day, I can eat at least two passion fruit a day, I'm picking with Arnold, I'm going to learn to drive, I'm getting really far in Candy Crush. Cons - it's HARD WORK!!!!!! My body is sore every day, my joints ache, my back aches, my shoulders ache, my fingernails are dry and brittle, I wear the same outfit every morning, we pick even when it rains, the fruit look like eggs and I feel like I'm on an eternal easter egg hunt, I'm not the fastest and sometimes get competitive even though its unnecessary,  I smell like hay, I'm buggered for the rest of the day. I'll be picking until July as thats when I have my first teaching job coming in - I'm told the cons get easier and the pros can only get better and better.

Having this time has offered me reflection time too - My time at EF was like no other I'd ever had and I'm sure it impacted my being on multiple levels. I had the opportunity to meet so many incredible humans with whom I had the honour of learning from and assisting them in developing their English. I was constantly inspired by the students both in and out of class and I know that I can walk the Earth knowing that there are a lot of really beautiful souls out there. I've taught students from all over the world and from different backgrounds religiously, culturally and of course physically. I always boasted that I no longer needed to go and see the world because the world came to me in my classroom - and I attest that that was such a gift. I was daily able to expand my world view by just walking 7 minutes from my home to the classroom and BAM - expansion! I was of course teaching the creme de la creme of society but non the less there were some good folk. And the team I worked with was pretty cool too!

Cape Town is a really stunning city in terms of the nature - one can never tire of gazing at the mountain in all of her glory - the shifting clouds, the range in colours depending on the time of the day, the constant presence that she emits on the city is inescapable. And from the top of the mountain one is mesmerised by the endless views that span out each way. After that climb to be able to rest your eyes and savour the view is tatilizing gift she graces you with. The beaches are gorgeous, the water is cold, the forests are accessible and there's always something beautiful to see. Always a place to watch the sunset or if you're up for it the sunrise. Then there's the buzzling city - long street and it's craziness/dirtiness, kloof street and its hipsters, Observatory and its avant garde international crowd, Camps Bay and its pompousness yet charm, Bo Kaap and its colourful culture, De Waterkant and its oh so fabulousness, Sea Point and it's promenade where Arnold and I ran many a fine 10km journeys - the wonders are endless. 

Things I miss are the energy, the diversity and the school. The energy in the city is something different to anywhere in Australia or the parts of Europe I have traveled...there is something always cooking - something always sizzling - someone always plotting and planning the next heist or party! There's an aliveness in Cape Town that keeps the blood flowing - there's art, music, theatre, fetivals, movies, cafes, restaurants, bars, dancing, romancing, prancing and just good old vibrant energy. The diversity is also something that dispite being confronting at times is something that makes Cape Town special - there are the Dirty Rich and the Dirt Poor. There are all religions represented, there are 500 shades of brown skinned people and then 500 shades of white. There are open minded, eccentric, trance party goers and then conservative, calorie counting cyclists who bant and paleo daily. There are Jah Rastafaris living on the Mountain and picking the herbs of health from the earth our mother and there are scavenging drunk bergies beating up bins (thanks for that story Nicole). There are those who can't wait to get out and those who will stay forever and those who would give an arm to stay and soak up the sun for just a little bit longer! Diversity in Cape Town is endless - and it's captivating! And the school - because it was my cultural hub.

I changed in Cape Town - I became stronger and more independent. I got my heart broken a few times but then I fell in love with Arnold whom I hope to grow old with. I had some really lonely moments but there were more times where I felt like the luckiest human on earth - to be surrounded by so many phenomenal humans with just joy and lust for living. I got robbed and had my home completely cleared out - all my important material objects gone with no goodbye - And yet not once did I encounter danger and I learnt first hand that material objects don't make me happy - love, laughter and friendship are far superior. I danced, danced and danced a little bit more which is one of my loves. I got drunk and embarrassed myself but learnt that forgiveness and growth from errors are far more important than carrying shame. I had quarrels with loved ones that at the time I felt were irreversable but again I learnt that time does heal and to get on with life is far more fun than dwelling on the negative aspects that cannot be changed. I got to know my family better and that was the plan - I now have a relationship with members that were distant family before.

And now I'm here in Aus! Life is good. Until next time!!!

Thursday, November 13, 2014

Graduation


Today eight of my students had their graduation ceremony. They come from a range of nationalitities and have each been here for either three, six or nine months. We closed down the school early and took them and our entire staff to Langa Community Centre which is in one of the oldest townships in Cape Town. It is the most developed township and it was a pleasant surprise when one of my colleagues pulled me aside and honestly asked if this was 'really' a township.

The community centre is an Artistic hub; one can do pottery, mosaic, photography, theatre, dance, music and other miscellaneous activities there. There were tourists taking tours through the building potentially as part of a township tour and there is an awesome little shop selling crockery, art, jewellery and mosaics that are made at the centre. The building is covered in colour and is incredibly vibrant and welcoming.

The students knew they were going to be visiting a township and nothing else so everything was a surprise. I think they were a bit anxious about what was to come and were afraid that they would have to make a spectacle of themselves. Luckily this was not the plan. Their first mission was to paint a mug, serving spoon,bowl or expression cup which will be glazed and kept as a totem. Then there was the ceremony.

My boss had a vision of honouring the students in a different way, in a way that they would forever look back on this day and warm their hearts so the plan was to create a ritualistic ceremony inspired by Nguni Praise Poetry and Playback Theatre. I have been a member of Bonfire Theatre Project for the past three years and due to budget limitations we couldn't hire the troupe, so instead, we asked Siphu to be our 'praise poet' and playback artist. We gathered positive quotes about each of the graduates from both staff and fellow students and then re-allocated them to the staff so each would read some praise that was not their own.

We placed the chairs in a circle as if sitting around a fire. Siphu as our leading poet recited some heightened prose specific to each individual and then pulled them into the middle of the fire and they were then showered with compliments, memories and moments as well as encouragement for future endeavours. A playback session followed this. For those of you not familiar with this form of theatre, it encompasses actors, a facilitator and an audience. The facilitator gets stories out of the audience and the actors immediately play the story back through improvisation. Ther is no discussion simply the act of making and accepting offers related to the story at hand. Siphu and I played back the stories about the proudest or most significant experience the learners had whilst in Cape Town.

Finally the students had the opportunity to honour each other and were given a physical copy of all the praise that was gathered for them. We all then jumped on a bus and went to a Chisa Nyama at Amadodas. A Shisa Nyama is the gathering of people around a butcher and a Braai (barbecue). Usually held in townships it is a time to eat good meat, drink beer, dance and be merry. We have never had a party at Amadodas before and right now as I write they are, I hope, having an absolute ball of a time.

It was a sentimental graduation for me because since I've been working at EF I have been lucky enough to be involved in about nine ceremonies which have culminated the journey for a few hundred students. They have all been spectacular in their own way and I've definitely cried at them all for the emotions released at such occasions is always cathartic. This grad though is my last one and it was in many ways one that sat close to my heart in terms of structure and content. The students were all sober and present. They were able to release some artistic energy through the painting and were then showered with words of praise that were thought through and weaver specifically for their individual growth. They were then listened to and heard and given the chance to reflect on their journey without judgment. And finally given a token that will always be a beacon in dark moments if needed. They were honoured and raised and one cannot ask much more from such an occasion.

I too was honoured this evening. Most unexpectadly by a man whom I only shared the space with for a brief time. I have been a teetotaller for the past two and a half months and thus have probably been taking advantage of my sobriety to be as extravagant as I feel when in a party atmosphere. A lot of the time alcohol is the excuse to start a party or to dance and I have taken it on as my mission to make the most of a party irrespective of the booze-meter. I dance if the music inspires me, and the music was particularly fabulous this evening as the DJ was playing three of my favourite genres. Reggae, kwaito and dirty dub step. I found my Colombian superstar (one of the graduates) and we started dancing our socks off. Taking into account it was six in the evening and for the students the party was just beginning thus no one but us were dancing, and really shaking it we were. Half an hour later the bus was leaving so I started saying my farewells. When an eccentric looking man in his 60's waring red pants, with a red bow tye pulled me aside and told me to wait 5 minutes. I politely told him I had to go as the bus was waiting but he politely told me I HAD to wait 5 minutes. I surrendered to his desire and waited. He then stopped the music, took out a mic and he praised my spirit. He fed my ego in all the ways one can desire to be fed and even kissed my feet. An eccentric move from an eccentric man but I will not lie, it felt great to have someone tell me positive things about me. It felt magnificent to feel that days of hard work were acknowledged by a complete stranger who felt moved and empowered to keep me back and stop the party to praise my ego and being. I humbly accepted his gift and then like Cinderella fled to the bus to come home.

Today was a special day on a number of levels. And I shall sleep like a baby knowing that today eight young stars were given the rite of passage to take their next step on their journey of la vida. And that maybe a new mentor has entered my life.

Monday, November 3, 2014

Finding writing again


It has been a while since I wrote,so long that I'm not sure where to start. Do I recap the past few years or like in a good diary or a good friend you just start with where you're at and what's important now. Right now, as I sit on my bed, which has been stripped of all linen, I'm surrounded by the bright white glow of naked pillows and a bare mattress. I've just climbed up and down Table Mountain and have also jumped in the freezing cold antarctic sea that always looks so welcoming yet is soo unbearable to immerse oneself in. I have a cup of rooibos with infused vanilla and the wind is gently caressing the guava tree outside. I'm feeling extremely tranquil and am extremely happy to be able to write.

Taking the time to sit down and reflect in words has always been a blessing for me yet these past few years I've rarely taken the time to do it. I've had moments of sadness where out of pure desperation I had to write in my physical journal in order to understand what the sadness was and where it sat in my mind but not taken the time to just reflect and play with the daily events that stir imagination and creativity but are lost if to captured there and then. So today before the eyes of this mine blog I commit to writing more often about the daily journeys of living and being.

I'm a teacher at EF Cape Town at the moment and have been so for the past three years.It seems that sometimes our career isn't chosen but chooses us. After four years of teaching in Norway I then committed another set period to the occupation of expanding our own world view by attempting to expand others'scope of vision. I've had a lot of students over the time I've been here and it has been extremely rewarding. I'm not the most structured of teachers but I'd like to hope that after each class there has been some learning and expansion that has taken place. I work with a great team of humans which is extremely dangerous because when there is time for change and development leaving is hard. Really hard. Really really hard. That time is coming for me again. It's a challenging time for a number of reasons that I'll try and examine because this has been sitting with weight on my shoulders. Starting afresh has perks of new beginnings yet there is such comfort in what is known and safe. I live with Arnold, my boyfriend of the last year and hopefully the rest of my Earth time. We live in a share house on Hofmeyr street in Gardens. We have eight homies and good vibes. We run twice a week along the Seapoint promenade and go to the free yoga at Yoga Zone on Thursday. We try go on an adventure every weekend and during the week we eat delicious home cooked food. A simple life we have created.

Now we have decided to go to Australia in the hope of expanding our work potentials financially. Both of us have pretty basic salaries here in the beautiful Cape and aren't feeling inspired by being broke at the end of each month desperately waiting for the next measly amount to be given for our heard efforts. Some times you have the perfect job with a less than perfect salary...money isn't e erything until you want to travel or start a family...and both of these dreams are in the pipeline. So the land down under doth call me home and beckons me to bring my Flying Dutchman across the globe into the unknown. The unknown is a bit daunting. New housemates, new work, new running route, new yoga prices, new friends, new networks, new places to buy our food, new, new, new. Now new is not always better nor is it worse, it's just NEW. And despite having had new more times than I can count it still gives me a knot in my stomachio. It still gets my mind racing and trying to play out millions of scenarios that could become realities in my waking and dosing moments. I have a great amount of faith that all will be well as it always is but I'd be lying if said I'm a vision of calm. It might be getting harder and harder to give up good things for other good things. I'm feeling a great sense of wanting it spread my roots and not have to move into a bigger pot for a while. Where I can grow my succulents and watch them transform on a yearly basis. That time will come.

I'll miss Cape Town. Of this I'm certain. The mountain cast a spell on me and she's fighting hard to convince me that this is where it's at. This is where I should be focusing my energy...but there are too many factors making me doubt here genuine concern for our future her...and when in doubt there can be a void in trust. So I hope to make the most of our remaining time here but time to spread my nomadic wings and return to the land of Oz. Perhaps, like Dorothy once I'm there I'll seek a means of returning but I'll only know that once I've taken that step.

Goals before leaving:

- climb Table Mountain once a week.
- go camping in beautiful setting as much as possible.
- run 21km
- travel up the West Coast
- have a BLAST.

Until next time keep rocking.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

The courageous but brainless pigeon.

Whilst sitting and putting the last touches to my rather scatterbrained introduction essay that is due tomorrow morning, a courageous pigeon decided to take a stroll in through the open kitchen door. It paraded across the floor, did a nice little poo and the continued on into the lounge. I did no see the pigeon taking it's walk of honour through the house and after having printed out my first draft I decided to spoil myself to a cup of tea with sugar and milk and a cup-cake from Joe and Taryn's wedding, sit in the lounge and go through the essay attempting to rectify some of the oh! so grand errors that I can see yet know not how to fix. Whilst sitting there, sipping on my tea and with red pen scratching, crissing and crossing I heard a fluster of wings going wild some where, I heard and thought perhaps rocco was having a good old shake, as dogs are known to be great movers and shakers when they so feel like it. SO i proceeded to continue with my thorough damnation of my written essay and once again, this fluster of wings rattling again what sounded like a window. Not daring to further enter the lounge I decided to stroll around to the outside of the suspected window and there sitting like an empress on her thrown was a beautiful pigeon looking out through the window and terrible confused as to why she could see the world yet was bound by some invisible force that prevented her from taking flight. My initial reaction was simple, open up all possible doors and windows and gently coerce the bright and beautiful bird into simply flying out....just like I do with flies and mosquitoes when they are inappropriately sharing space with me, 'shoo, mosquito, i do not want to smack you so just fly out the window and we will both be winners.' Mosquitoes are intelligent beings when they're not suicidal and will often listen to my words of advice, so to with flies who do not simply try to fly out of one part of the window but buzz buzz buzz around the whole glass until they find a window of opportunity and take it for freedom is for the most part a much better prospect than the doom and gloom of death. Anyway, this pigeon, this bird, as beautiful and elegant as her appearances presented her, was not terribly bright and seemed to have loose bowels because she simply tried to fly in a similar manner to before the windows and doorways and portals to a better world were open and also do a helava lot of pooing. Meanwhile Rocco, sweat and noble Rocket of a dog was beside himself, how on earth had this alien being entered his territory without his knowing and why wouldn't it leave when he barked and why was it stressing out his Tanya so? He jumped at the bird and barked more and the bird flittered and flattered more and more relieving of herself on the window sill and it was all to much so Rocco and I retreated to the safety of the garden to attempt another strategy. I thought a wonderful thought scaring not scarring (just looked the spelling up and both came up....not sure which is the real gerund of to scare) the bird so picked up a harmless looking stick and threw it towards the window. This did not have the desired effect, Rocco thought we were playing fetch and launched at top speed into the garden and the bird didn't blink an eye-lid. So thought number two was to shoo the bird from the inside with a newspaper...Rocco, now in the mood for some fun jumped up and grabbed the news paper from my hand and that was the end of that idea. The not so bright at all pigeon by this stage was getting into quite a state and was frightened out of her wits. And I was babbling and babbling to the poor bird but communication was not working so I eventually opted to try and hold the bird and thrust it in the direction of freedom, after all people in movies always handle pigeons when they want to send messages to far away lands and so it is possible....so, sneaking up on it I tried to use a calm and controlled approach so that it would immediately trust me and know that I was not going to try and cook it, simply hold it for some milliseconds and then it would no longer be stuck...the brainless bird did not resonate with my thoughts and instead flittered and flattered in a fluster against the glass even more vigorously and I, afraid of it doing it's number two on my hands, also started frolicking and flinching and then miraculously I had this gentle and soft stressed out creature in between my palms, turned 90 degrees and set it off towards the light and she being able to utilize her wings in the open space gracefully flew away. Rocco thought I was the best thing since sliced bread after this bold and brave act and jumped up and down and wagged his wonderful little tail like the wings of humming bird and together we celebrated this feat by finishing off the delicious brandy soaked wedding cup cake (and him a dog biscuit). He now, so tired after the shenanigans i passed out on the carpet and I still have the arduous task of attempting to bring my essay to life.