We have two feral cats who live on the compound, Felix who is black and white as you might expect and Gandalf who is grey and now white after the battle with the Balrog. Gandalf is a young, neutered female who is full of beans and Felix is an old warhorse who got her up the duff not long after she arrived here. I captured her and took her to the vets and the local charity paid for her operation for her to be released back here.
When the wife was recovering from surgery for her breast cancer recently, I fed them both. Gandalf in particular equates me with food. So, I am under constant surveillance wherever I go in the garden. Having a patch of white fur is poor camouflage. Cats think they are clever. I can often feel it when Gandalf is observing me from some random place of hiding / vantage point in our 2 acres. I know. When I turn and look directly at her from say 50 metres, she has on occasion looked surprised and even startled. I have seen her flinch.
I have a kind of sixth sense, which may or may not be reliable.
Of late I have felt some kind of human observation, especially when I am down near the river. It is the wrong time for day for the Korrigans {fairy like beings often associated with water}. The feeling is always of a male, masculine. It has happened a few times in the last few days. But when I have turned to look there has been nobody there that I can see. The line of sight through the gap in the hedge points at a treeline on the hill. It is possible, though unlikely, that someone is watching. What are the crazy Brits up to now? The other day a helicopter flew over our property, stopped directly above, then turned around and headed south. This happened twice in a few minutes. If anybody is watching it must be bloody boring for them. I might set up some trail-cams.
Weird…
Today I have been mulling over if there is any residual fate left for me. The current hypothesis is that I will quietly eke out my days and experience my possibly karmic bad health slowly worsening. I don’t see much left for me to do. I am largely apart from the world. There are cancer and myeloma follow ups for the wife in the next few weeks which include another PET scan. That will advise.
The world is perhaps braced for whatever lunacy might ride forth from Tango man in DC. Maybe he will decree that all Americans must wear tin foil hats on their heads. You might be able to get a special MAGA cap lined with tin foil.
My dreams have pointed at using Tibetan dice for divination. I have made two prototypes from Walnut root. The root is too wet. The ones I made were not fair. It was easy to see that some numbers came up more frequently than others. They were “bent” dice. I have a method of production and nice piece of apple wood for the next iteration.
On the warrior’s path anything is possible. The universe has a bag full of spanners and a playbook full of curve balls. So, you never know for sure. Likelihood is a quiet fade-out to clog popping time.
Fizzling out like a dying sparkler seems quite natural and non-dramatic.
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Sent la pluie comme un été Anglais
Entends les notes d’une chanson lointaine
Sortant de derrière d’un poster
Espérant que la vie ne fut aussi longue
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Dreamyoga 