Wednesday, 21 December 2011

A Sweet Noel...


Christmas. A holiday that has lost much of its meaning over the years. What was once an ancient celebration honouring the holiday of Saturnalia (it’s not actually Jesus’ birthday as many would have us think), and is now a feast of consumerism, sensationalism and excess. Which is certainly apt considering that the Roman pagan Solstice celebration was actually a week long period of lawlessness involving rituals of cannibalism, pillaging and culminating in sacrifice. Nice.

In Christian doctrine, Christmas celebrates the birth of the Christian god who came to rescue mankind from the “curse of the Torah.” (Gal 3:13). It is a 24-hour declaration that Judaism is no longer valid. It doesn’t really make sense, yet people latch onto this holiday and its traditions for dear life. I among them. Call me a heathen but I love Christmas. I love the festive cheer, the colours, the decorations and the general feeling of bonhomie that issues throughout the nation. I think Christmas has mostly lost its religious subtext anyway – how many people go to Mass on Christmas morning?

Who really is bothered by the holiday’s nefarious origins? To me, it’s a compelling excuse to gather with family, to eat, to drink and to spend time together in a world that is so demanding that for many families, this is the only time everyone is under one roof. We give gifts, just as the so-called Magi presented our Lord. To me it’s an opportunity to palpably show family and friends that they are loved.

In this vein we salubriously ply ourselves with traditional confections and don funny hats. Yule tide means so many different things to so many different people, but the central theme (in contemporary times anyway) is always love. A fellowship of humankind. So I’ll take my pagan tree, sing my pagan songs, enjoy my pagan turkey and wait for the fat pagan man to come down the chimney and give me pagan presents J.

On that note folks...





Monday, 12 December 2011

Furballs and Fairytales...


I don’t have an alarm clock, I have a 3 month old blue tick hound. Nothing like the sound of howling in your ear to start the day. So restful. And if there is no reaction a nip on the ear is apparently acceptable behaviour. I haven’t slept late since he decided that it was his duty to wake up the household. Thanks to Disco, I put my running shoes on every morning. Mainly just to get away from his noise but who said motivation had to be positive?

Disco - such a proud pup

Heading out with Dad

Sleeping in the car

I'm so cute when I'm asleep

Getting my Support on!

Eating Mom's carrots - 'cos I can...

He is not yet old enough to run but he sure wants to. He waits by the door while I get dressed and bounces eagerly as I get ready to head out the kitchen door. The only way I can actually get out of the house is to put a bowl of milk on the floor and shoot out while he’s distracted. I know it’s a bit below the belt, but skulduggery is honestly better than hearing him crying mournfully when I shut the door in his face.

My running buddy is, however a pointer called Kwezi. She is black as pitch and as energetic as anything. We can go for a 12km run and when we get home I’m absolutely finished and she vigorously bounds off when I remove her leash as if she’d like to go again. This is terribly annoying but seeing her cheerful face every morning does aid the belief that happiness can be found in simplicity. She is what I like to affectionately call ‘touched’. I’m almost positive she has an imaginary friend. You’ll hear dogs (plural) playing and making a racket together, growling, jumping and generally having the time of their lives, come around the corner and its just Kwezi. On her own... Ergo... ‘Touched’...

Kwezi Bear

I don’t know what I would do without the furry fraction of my family. And I thought this would be an expedient occasion to introduce you to the Motley Crew of Melody Ranch. We have a cat-dog called Calypso – I think she’s not entirely sure of her nature and the only thing tying her to the feline way of life is her love for sleeping on the curtain rail and her aptitude for murdering feathered friends. Otherwise she sleeps with the dogs, rough-houses with them, has no aversion to water and goes along for walks along with the rest of the troop. 
"A cat is a puzzle for which there is no solution."

Calypso

Just hanging out

Barley is next on the list – she is a Husky-Lab cross and her personality is just that. She is terribly mellow and just sits back and watches the world go by. She absolutely loves swimming and sometimes on a hot day you’ll hear splashing in the pool. A peek out the window confirms Barley doing her morning laps. She also runs with me on occasion but the constant dreaminess and sudden desire to smell flowers or lie in rain puddles isn’t conducive to effective training and usually results in me face-planting over the leash.

Barley and a brand new Disco

Lily is a Jack Russell or Jackal Russ as Sean calls her. She believes she’s the Leader of the Pack and is probably our most aggressive dog – thank goodness she’s only half a foot high. She is obsessed, to put it mildly, with anything round that can be thrown. Once a ball is tossed for her, as many an unsuspecting visitor has discovered, she will retrieve the ball/stick/stray avo and spend the rest of the day bringing it back to the person and waiting, shaking in anticipation, with her one paw in the air for an encore.

Its MY ball, don't touch it

Lily the Pink





Then we come to the grump of the family. Sabre. She is a Rottweiler cross Labrador – don’t hold it against her, she’s really a lovely animal. She and Sean have their differences however. She was a puppy when Sean and I started dating. She literally hated him. She chewed up anything that smelled like him, including a jacket of mine he had borrowed! She is truly the most loyal dog I’ve ever had, she would protect me with her life. Although, granted she sometimes protects me from my husband which is not always ideal, she has her heart in the right place. She is very vocal, especially when the attention isn’t entirely on her. She likes to be a part of the conversation, she isn’t a fan of public displays of affection (she slinks between us and growls menacingly at Sean) and she also believes she is a lapdog - All 45kg of her!



Sabre chilling on the mat

They make a noise, they break things, they make muddy paw prints all over the house when its raining, but I wouldn't trade them for the world. There’s not much in this world as beautiful and true as the unconditional love of an animal. They don’t care if you’re not wearing makeup, if you have morning breath or have put on a few pounds. 

They bring us joy, they make us laugh, they make us love...  Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole...


The Three Musketeers




My Furry Family