Mantra

 

Mantra

We have long been advocates of mantras, not for religious reasons, but to help us feel we are a little more in control.

The morning mantra used to be, ‘Keys, wallet, briefcase, ‘phone,’ as the man of the house left for work. The woman of the house didn’t need a mantra. It was her job to make sure that each child left the house properly dressed, thoroughly fed and on time, before closing the door securely and making her own way to work. After she had repeated, ‘Have you got. . . ? Have you remembered . . .?’ umpteen times, there was little chance of her forgetting what she needed for the day ahead.

Now, in the peaceful days of our non-working lives, the mantra has changed. As we prepare to leave the house with dogs in tow, for a hearty jaunt in the woods, the chant is, ‘Keys, hat, sunglasses, camera, walking poles, leads, remote control.’

Remote control?

Our dogs are smartly dressed in orange tracker collars, which they wear alongside the collars with their identity tags. 

                                                Coming out?

The remote control is not intended to control the dogs, but to identify where they are, should they decide to follow a path of their own choosing. It is possible to monitor thirty dogs with the device, so is more than sufficient for our two. We have only ever walked seven dogs at a time, four of ours and three of our daughter’s, but that was a long time ago, when there were fewer people out walking dogs.

    Gilbert models his collars. On this occasion, he and Roxy are wearing the blue collars decorated with bees.

We know how far each dog has travelled, and also the distance the humans have covered. They cover approximately twice the distance of the people. Satellite imagery presents a clear map to show the terrain and to help plan a route, if required.

It’s interesting to use the tracker, but also comforting. In all our decades of having dogs, we’ve lost three. One, a little Jack Russell, found her way home late at night. Her brother, on another occasion, was knocked down but died after a few days with the vet. He was a strong dog, but the shock was too much for him. The third one, my Velcro dog, emerged from the carcase of a deer, in which he had been feasting. He had become a black, white and red Dalmatian.

So, we have the trackers for our peace of mind (or piece of mind!!) It’s about time children were fitted with trackers, too, though I gather iPhones can be tracked. I know I wouldn’t have liked to have been so easily traced, but maybe things are different now. 

Given the opportunity, I would have hidden inside my children’s heads to understand them. As it was, I had to rely on the information they gave me to know where they were and with whom. We all survived, and it’s been interesting watching them navigate the perilous waters of parenthood. Parenting at one or two removes is so much more relaxing!

A new mantra

Like most couples, I suppose, Barry and I often discuss the things we’re going to do, the plans we’ve got, the hopes we have. None of our ideas are earth-shattering or innovative or even very much out of the ordinary. I mean, many people have a huge model train lay-out in the attic and a gymnasium and endless pool at the end of the garden and plans for an observatory to house the astronomical telescopes. And yes, we also have a special telescope to observe the sun. It’s not used very often as there are days when we don’t even see the sun.

The other day Barry said that he’s really enjoying his retirement and having the opportunity to pursue his many hobbies. I must admit that I had a great deal of trepidation at the prospect of him not going out to work each day. I thought he would miss the challenges – and there were many! – but he’s glad to be out of what was turning into a frustrating and rather dreary business. It was taken over by another company after he left and reports from the very few who remain there are not joyous.

He declared happily that he’s got time now to decorate. I remember doing some of that when I first stopped working but I’m an impatient painter. I start with great enthusiasm but soon get bored and slap the paint on so thickly that it forms small waterfalls frozen in time as they dry. Barry claims that he likes painting and about two months ago he declared his aim of painting a door a day. His new mantra, ‘Paint a door a day’, he would call gleefully to me as he passed through on his way to the loft, the gym, the pool.

Thus far, he has painted one door and it certainly looks very nice, contrasting so beautifully with the walls that now look rather tired. Last night he amended ‘Paint a door a day’ to ‘Paint a door a month’ and I quickly adjusted it to ‘Paint a door a year’. Well, there are more interesting things to do – and we’re doing them!