She was the runt of the litter, a bit crazy, hated other dogs, even nipped a neighbour once (just a 'heeler' nip though, on the ankle), never caught or fetched a ball or stick (she'd watch you throw it and then just look at you as if to say "What?"), and was the world's worst guard dog. Though she'd quite happily bark at nothing for hours. She would sleep on the inside couch even when she KNEW she wasn't allowed to, and she would take up most of the outside one too, when you were trying to sit on it. She ate cat poo, kangaroo poo, rabbit poo, who knows, possibly even fox poo. But she'd carefully extricate lettuce, potato, and tomato from anything you fed her. She left white fur on EVERYTHING, all year round.
But she was ours. And now she's gone. She loved belly rubs and sitting on your feet, walking up to the school bus in the mornings, chasing magpies, and licking you whenever your guard was down. And now there's a big (rather torn and dog-chewed) space on the outside couch that will never be filled again. Maybe it was a snake bite, maybe something she ate. We don't know. We found her when we got home from picking up littlest munchkin from her school camping trip (what a horrible thing to come home to, my poor little munchkin).
Goodbye my mad little Flynn. I hope you're chasing magpies somewhere in dog heaven.
Friday, May 22, 2015
Friday, March 6, 2015
Here it is then, the final part of the Map Book. Be patient, there are a lot of images here so it might take a while to load. When I look at these images now, it dawns on me how much work there was in the book, but while I was immersed in it, it was rather as if each page I worked on was the ONLY page that existed, while I was working on it, and when finished it was just added to the pile to be stitched together, just another piece of paper. I'll add a few brief comments and some relevant links, but again, I want to let the pages tell their own story without me over explaining everything.
Here first is my grandfather's story. His service papers, his photos, his cheeky postcards back to his mum and step-dad, hiding darker moments behind humour. Photos of a life lived beyond the war that left its terrible mark on him, and the lyrics to the song I wrote for him.
I asked my munchkins to look out for any old maps on a trip with their dad to the Tip Shop, and they came home with a 2012 French map book. But on the second or third page, I found this. It seemed like it was meant to be.
Two beautiful quotes. You can read more of Sharon Blackie's wonderful writing on nature here, and watch the video made by John Boorman here (as well as some further meditations on belonging, written before I moved to this beautiful place, in which I mention Greens Pool. Which is where these photos were taken, and is now a 5 minute drive away instead of a 5 hour drive).
Too much writing, too much research, too many details...always my downfall.
This is a reworking of ideas I wrote about back in 2012. If you're REALLY keen to know what I'm wittering on about, and can't read it in these pics, you can find the post here.
'The Tempest' page. The ideas here go back many years, to a short play I wrote at uni. Wow, it's almost 20 years, now that I think about it, that they've been rattling around in my brain.
More of the 'too much detail' affliction...I clearly don't have a life!
Perhaps this might need to be explained a little. How might Caliban, who is not a monster in my universe, depict his beloved home?
Reuse, remake, re-vision. Yes, she probably looks familiar. This book is full of old things refound and remade.
Her story, and mine, is here, if you wish to know it.
One of my most favouritetist (yes, I know it's not a word but I don't care) poems of all.
Of course, there were supposed to be MORE maps, and I so wanted to make a pop-up boat flying across a star map, but alas, as I mentioned IN the book, I could not find a time map that would take me backwards so that I would be able to complete all these ideas. Story of my life really!
Posted by A mermaid in the attic at 9:40 PM