morning walks | The Contented Crafter

When last you heard from me I was off to my daughter Danella’s place with Orlando and Siddy for a couple of weeks while the tiny house had some repairs done to it. Then, back home I had trouble with WP and accessing posts, liking and commenting and my own blog was quite elusive too. Any way, all resolved now. This all happened when Covid 19 was just a ‘thing’ that was happening far far away and, I was sure, like all ‘things’ would cause a bit of mad panic then die away…… Alas, I was wrong! But, we aren’t here yet, back to my story…..

Those two weeks stretched into three. We had a fun time staying with Danella. It felt a bit like I was holiday – except for Orlando spitting at George every time he moved and purring lovingly at everyone else.

However lucky Mr O’s personal servant took his personal watering can on holiday and so he made himself at home on Danella’s kitchen counter

Then, just as O settled in and began to mind his manners he was moved back to his own home. He wasn’t very pleased for an hour or so, too many new smells – but he soon settled in.

Siddy of course didn’t mind where he was as long as his food bowl and mumma are close by, he’s a boy who enjoys life. Here he is, on one of our morning walks, on a mission, checking out his messages

We went for some lovely morning walks and I took photos that I posted on Instagram. Here’s one for those of you who don’t indulge over there. I call it ‘The High Road’ It’s proper name is John Wilson Drive but I don’t know who John Wilson was and I’ve never quite gotten round to checking him out.

The road is wide and follows the crest of a hill. It is bollarded and closed to all traffic except between the hours of 11 am and 3 pm. Outside of those hours it is a haven for families and runners and dog walkers.

On one side is the expansive southern Pacific Ocean, with nothing between us and Chile and the other side sports the rolling green and patchy brown hills of a not very posh golf course where locals walk themselves and their dogs and both are given to unexpectedly clambering out of the undergrowth beside those of us wandering quietly along the high road minding our own business with a cheery ‘Good Morning!’.

At the very end of the road there is a steepish hill we (that’s the royal ‘we’) puff our way up to the lookout point where we admire the view, take a photo and about face for the walk back.

The view on the return journey looks across the beaches of St Kilda and St Clair, south towards the southern suburbs of Dunedin. It’s not terribly far from those hills to Antarctica – just a tad over 4000 km.

Siddy and I have continued to make the walk most mornings since our return home. It’s a brief five minute car ride to access all this beauty and fresh air, why wouldn’t we! Now that the days are growing shorter we can set off while it is still dark and get to the Lookout in time for an early sunrise photo.

So now, here we are at home. Our home is fixed and revamped and a pleasure to be in – something it wasn’t for a long time. I am both relieved and very, very happy. And if I have to self isolate I am happy to do it here in my safe, warm little home.

Take care, look after each other, look for the good in people and the world and remember that fear lowers our resistance to disease. Practise contentment, be grateful and let your eyes rest on beauty. Thanks for coming by today, I’m so happy that you did,

One morning last summer, quite early in the day, when Orlando was sitting in his accustomed place keeping an eye on the neighbourhood, a small child’s voice floated through the open window “Mummy, mummy look at the pretty kitty…” I heard mummy’s voice agreeing and urging the child to keep going while Orlando sat calmly watching it all.

Obviously this became a bit of a routine which I was not aware of as, some weeks later, I just happened into the room and heard through the same open window the little boy’s lamenting cry to his mother “Mummy, mummy, where’s the kitty gone, mummy?”

Mummy had no idea, but even as she spoke said kitty appeared from nowhere and springing across furniture, bench tops and stove, raced to reach his waiting admirer.

I heard an excited squeal, “There he is mummy!” exclaimed the child “Look mummy, there he is!”

Mummy’s murmured reply was incomprehensible – but watching my ‘kitty’ sit up very tall and straight and puff out his handsome chest while gazing softly into the far distance sent me off into a fit of giggles and I had to leave the room – who was it that said animals have no concept of social interactions?

This morning I was busy in the kitchen multi-tasking away quite happily – cooking a new batch of cheese and oat cakes and making hummus for my daughter when Orlando suddenly and with no warning sprang across furniture, bench tops and stove to the window.

Even as I squeaked my concern and disapproval I realised by the way he positioned himself who was there – and sure enough a happy voice announced to the whole world “There’s the kitty mummy. Hello kitty!”

Kitty sat up tall and proud, puffed out his chest and gazed into the far distance with a long, slow blink.