Bitch on the Blog

March 31, 2017


One of the less palatable facts of life (apart from death, obviously) how, at times, to cope with the whole caboodle. I have found myself at points which didn’t bring me so much to breaking as having to take some deep breaths, thank my lucky stars that it’s too far and damp to walk to the next cliff, and then regroup. It pays to have shoulders. And brings to mind camels and backs, and straws that break the camel’s back, and taking water from the well till the vessel cracks, you name it there will be an image for it.

Which reminds me, apropos of nothing, and one Looney may have the patience to answer: What’s it with camels, wells and donkeys? And going through the eye of a needle? That camels feature large is, geographically speaking, not a surprise. Still. Wait till a Llama spits at you, not out of spite – just because that is what Llamas do, and you look at life, as only a five year old can, through a heightened lens.

That’s how animosity starts. One moment you are meandering through your own overgrown backyard, the next someone offers you to borrow their lawn mower. Obviously the latter never happens but as an idea it works.

So, what do you do? Accept that your neighbour lends you their lawn mower not because you don’t have one but because they don’t want to be seen living to someone who is perfectly happy to walk among daisies? Or do you mow that meadow of yours to keep the peace?

Let me know. Not that I do have any land, overgrown or mowed, at the moment.




  1. Neighbours are essential x

    Comment by John — March 31, 2017 @ 23:00 | Reply

    • Indeed, John, indeed. You’d be the neighbour I’d gladly keep in my most delicious home made lovingly moulded Scotch eggs (quails’ if you’ll prefer life on a small scale). I’d even offer to walk your dogs in absence of your crocs and visit Aunt Glad when you are otherwise engaged.

      In return? In return – just knowing you will notice my absence will be enough to assure me that I won’t rot forever.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 31, 2017 @ 23:28 | Reply

  2. Not sure about the camels, donkeys and llamas, but in the Amish country the yards are disciplined by keeping a goat. I have a rock garden, which presents other kinds of maintenance problems.

    Comment by Looney — April 1, 2017 @ 02:43 | Reply

    • I am fond of the Amish, and Quakers too. Not that I do know much about either but there is a purity, a simplicity to their lifestyles the idea of which does appeal to me.

      “Rock garden”, is it? Well, my dear Looney, you sure don’t make life easy for yourself. Which reminds me: How is the swimming in icy waters going?


      Comment by bitchontheblog — April 1, 2017 @ 20:52 | Reply

      • The Amish certainly have a simple lifestyle. My East Coast home is stationed between the Amish and the Quakers, so I will note that to be a Quaker you must have a top 1% income and and be prepared to correct the moral failings of humanity in a manner that would make the Jesuits proud. They are the near exact opposite of the Amish.

        As for the swimming, things are getting warm. I will need to head up to the Sierras soon and dip myself in a pond filled with freshly melted snow to cool down shortly.

        Comment by Looney — April 2, 2017 @ 23:29 | Reply

  3. A woman’s home is her castle.

    Comment by rummuser — April 1, 2017 @ 11:09 | Reply

    • Indeed, Ramana, indeed. And her heart is where the hearth is. Or maybe the other way round.

      Talking of castles: Moats and drawbridges. It’s odd, isn’t it, how often that which is designed to keep us safe does fence us in.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — April 1, 2017 @ 21:01 | Reply

  4. Just dig up the lawn and grow potatoes and beans….. that’s what I did. Preserved the beans by salting them down in the absence of a freezer. Nowadays the neighbour’s garden is worse than ours. Positively hazardous but a great place for wild life to hide I should think.

    As for camels and donkeys… well the eye of the needle thing was some bloke called Jesus trying to teach something or other…. and the donkey on Palm Sunday was a political statement.

    Comment by magpie11 — April 1, 2017 @ 15:11 | Reply

    • Yes, according to Jesus the rich won’t enter the Kingdom of God. As incentives go it’s not effective. Who wants to be poor now to enter heaven later?

      If there is one thing suspect about the Bible it’s that it strikes the fear of God into a small child. Why? Because children take everything literally. I did. Forget fairy tales and folklore. The bible had me wide eyed with anticipation of what might befall me. My father fought this as best he could. And he succeeded. I am largely incorruptible, of sound ethics and – with Easter coming up – a good egg with a use by date as yet to be decided.

      Other than that my ambition doesn’t go much further than getting a thread through the eye of a needle. Large animals do have to find their own way around.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — April 1, 2017 @ 21:16 | Reply

  5. Our lawns are full of daisies, dandelions, moss and all sorts. Fortunately the neighbours aren’t bothered so the intruders are safe. In fact the neighbours never tut-tut about anything, but I assume they do appreciate tidiness, lack of litter (we have two schools nearby so plenty of that), regularly maintained paintwork and ditto hedges and fences.

    Comment by nick — April 6, 2017 @ 10:49 | Reply

    • Daisies and dandelions sound great. Such cheering and persistent plants. Like good friends.

      Moss has some sort of mystic quality to me. I remember going into the thick of a dark forest, a vague smell of earthy damp, being shown where the moss grows, and how to harvest it to line traditional Easter egg baskets. Yes, Nick, see your last post: The good old days.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — April 6, 2017 @ 12:21 | Reply

      • You know about me and Dandelions…

        As for Mosses and Easter… we used to do the same and also had to make Easter Gardens using mosses. And I love the idea of Japanese gardens with moss mounds.
        Many was the Sphagnum Bog I sank into in my youth whilst hiking across Dartmoor and other wild places.

        Comment by magpie11 — April 8, 2017 @ 12:02 | Reply

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