Chaos

There has been a bit of chaos here lately. Otis claims that Teddy has lost his mind. I actually caught him perched in a tree (Otis, that is), and when I asked him what he was doing, he said that he was waiting because he just knew that Teddy was up to no good.

Sure enough; here's the evidence!!!

Teddy appears to be going through a rebellious phase - either that, or he just likes hanging upside down. It will be interesting to see how Otis reacts, and a valuable bit of information for my 'Otis brain mission'.

Identity

OK, so just to clarify, when Otis goes in a huff, it's usually not my fault. I say usually because most of the time it is. If you know what I mean.

So, someone asked me what colour Otis was. I can't tell you what I said, because I've caused enough trouble as it is! You see, according to Otis, someone might steal his identity and steal his bank account. I'm not entirely sure if he knows what a bank account is, or in fact where he gets his knowledge from. It's all a bit distorted. So I told him that you can't steal a bank account, which of course led to another huff on Otis' side.

After he flew off to the woods, I tried to write a song about blue skies and crazy owls and identity, but I haven't quite adjusted to the off-tuneness (that I LOVE, I'd like to add!) of my piano.

Oh, there's another thing I really need to talk about as well. I think Otis might believe that we still live in our old other house. I can't write the address because I'm pretty sure some of you are spies. You know who you are. (Even though I'm aware that some might be abroad, holidays and whatnot, I still can't risk it. They might read it when they get back. You know who you are. For those of you who aren't spies - I hope you know who you are too - yes, spies have holidays!). SO while my life, and Clatalie's life, and Liz's life is totally changing because we've moved on, metaphorically and geographically, Otis apparently lives in his own little time and place bubble. I found out when he was talking about his family. He was saying about how his grandpa used to hide books in a box upstairs, and that we could go and have a look in a bit if I liked. I was quite confused at first, as Otis has never been to Wales before we moved here, but then it struck me that the 'NEW PLACE' in his brain must either be missing, or that it's just disconnected from the rest of his brain. So I've made it my mission to find out more about owl's brain, and in particular, Otis' brain. Perhaps I will find his true identity. Maybe I will see his thoughts, like in Harry Potter in the pensive sieve. Or maybe, it will just be brain. Either way, excitingly scientific stuff is soon to be discovered!

Yes, I definitely like life a little better now!

The Return

I was playing piano yesterday when Otis Burble flew in through the window. He mumbled something about the forest, and then perched on the back of a chair, staring into space with his eyes half closed. As I was removing some twigs and leaves that were stuck to his feathers, I asked him where he'd been and why he had come back. He said he couldn't tell me where he'd been, and he came back because he was craving crumpets and he missed the roses. I just nodded and smiled. Silly owl.

Memories ...

Summer is visiting Wales, just when we were getting used to the fact that winter was on its way. Not that we're complaining. Well, I'm not. Otis has disappeared for a few days; he says he's going on furlough and will be back soon, though if he discovers nice owls in the wood, he may stay a bit longer. I told him to please come back, that I would miss him, but not his grumpiness. He just stared at me. 

Oh, how times are changing. I remember the cold evenings when we would sit in the lounge, Clatalie, Otis and me, all snuggled up in a blanket, each in our own spot; Clatalie and I on the sofas, Otis perched on the mantle-piece, from which he had a good view of what was going on inside and outside. We would watch junk on the teli and talk. Sometimes we would talk serious stuff, but mostly we talked nonsense, falling about in giggles that made us want to live the student life forever and ever. 

Occasionally, there was a cat which roamed the alley way to the back of the terraced houses. He'd come and dance along the wall which separated our backyard from next door's, and peep in. He wasn't a big fan of Otis, nor was Otis a big fan of him, but most of the time, the cat would want to come in. It was times like these that Clatalie would look at my with bright eyes, and say, "Pleeeeaaase can we have a kitten?" And I would reply, gently but firmly, "No, we're not having kittens!"

The conversation would then go on to getting a tiger. That I could live with, and our plans for the future, going against anything remotely related to reality, would flourish and lift our spirits, until we once again realised that there was a real world beyond the walls that protected us, and we both knew that one day, we would have to gather up all the courage we could find, and step out into that frighteningly big ocean.

And here we are. Though we haven't entered that world fully yet, we've stepped out. Partly because we had no choice, partly because - I think it is safe to say - we both knew that student life, though thrilling and exciting and full of good times, will eventually get extremely boring at some point. As well as being totally unsatisfying,  I don't want a boring life, and neither does Clatalie, I think. 

Yes, we WILL conquer the world. We will look forward, and expect a thousand new experiences that will be just as good as the times we lived in our house. But we will do so, knowing that there will always be those memories in our hearts.

Moving forward

Otis Burble set up his own facebook today. It was quite interesting to watch. Having nearly died yesterday of fright after a pheasant flew out of the field with a massive SQAUWK, I think he's more open to life now. I just hope he doesn't start smoking a pipe, because that's what Opium and I had planned on doing. We'll be the first witches in town - selling frogs legs and old women's warts as remedies for the plague and other interesting illnesses.

We certainly need a remedy for life; it's so strange not being in our old house anymore. I think Otis has experienced a bit of a culture shock; he has retreated to the attic with his new pigeon friend and talks about the valleys. Only today he said to me he thinks he is being watched by Welsh people. I shook my head in disbelief at this. Not that there aren't some funny characters here; the other day I was in Abergavenny and a man walked past, mumbling to himself, "I'm sure they've misspelt it!" But to think that they would take the effort of watching Otis Burble!? Time will tell whether he is a threat to this strange culture or not. In the meantime, I am thinking up plans in case 'stuff' happens when we are out and about.


Here's one of them (I can't tell you about all of them; some of you might be spies):
THE DITCH PLAN

• I imagine I am walking the Welsh roads of Britain; it's trying it's best to be a bit sunny, and there is a bit of a wind . 
• Suddenly, there is a gun shot.
• Luckily I have assessed the area, and, grabbing Otis Burble by the tail, jump into the closest ditch, rolling into a ball and trying not to breathe.
• Whilst rolled up, I dig for one of the devices that I have set up all around the area which will give off a signal to someone who can help us (at this point, you may be asking yourself if it would not be easier just to use my mobile phone - rest assured, dear reader, I did think of this, but was reminded of the lack of development in technology, such as providing signal in remote places. I think they do it on purpose; I'm sure there are spies around here).
• After a couple of hours, I expect help will have arrived; if not, then we must turn to THE DITCH TUNNEL PLAN, which I cannot explain here for legal reasons.

So there you have it; just in case you were worried for our safety, you can ease your mind, knowing that nothing can happen to us so long as we plan ahead, and of course, trust God - He even loves crazy old Otis Burble, how could anything happen with God on our side!

The significance of a moment

Otis Burble asked me what the significance of a moment is. So I told him that there are two different moments, and they differ in length. He asked me why, so I told him that if we live in the moment, that moment slips through our fingers like dust. If we are not living in the moment, we are either living in the past or in the future, and the moment freezes up like ice, until it melts under the warmth of our attention. The moment that we lose is easily regained in the next moment, and in the next, so it is never really lost. But the moment that we hang on to can become heavy and a burden.

I ate a chocolate after that, and waited for my fluffy owl to say something. When I looked up he had blinked a tear. I asked him what was the matter. He replied, "the pain is echoed off these walls, bouncing back at me and growing ever louder. Wherever you go, that echo will be like a scar which reminds you of the battle wounds that you did not have to endure, if you had only let go of that moment."

With that I left, because he's a silly owl who thinks he's all wise and sometimes he is and sometimes he isn't, but I just wish he'd said something funny!


Here's a joke because I guess you were expecting a funny story (thanks Otis!):
How do Welsh people eat cheese?
Caerphilly!

The Thoughtful One

It is strange how life spans out, forming patterns and lines that we never expect, spreading out to become a picture we have never seen before. And things fit together because when you're painting a picture, there is no room for something new where there is already something else.

I was reminiscing with Otis Burble earlier on, and I was telling him where his name came from. Even though he is of the firm belief that he was born in Cambridge and grew up in an upper class family, having inherited his name from his father, as is owl tradition, with the name of the river closest to his birth town, there remains another story which is much truer than his own. His own does exist, by the way, because he is of course a real owl and has a real history and a real memory, without which he would be a useless owl!

And now I remember, in a blur, the day Otis Burble was born. His portrait was complete, and I remember a feeling of great urgency to name him. So Clatalie and I, in that crucial moment in history, named him 'Otis' (Clatalie) and 'Burble' (me) to call into existence the Otis Burble we know today. I must not let him read this, or he might have a fit. Like in Doctor Who, revealing time to someone who is totally messed up time-wise, and oblivious to the predicament they may find themselves in, it is best to leave him thinking that he is a perfectly normal owl with a perfectly normal owl history. To me he is not perfectly normal, he is amazingly crazy and utterly bonkers, and the best thing is, he doesn't know how much he makes me laugh! Where would we be without Otis Burble?

This memory, and saying goodbye to so many people today has led me to look back on the path I have taken. The roads I have chosen have led to places that I could still leave by taking other turnings, and I thank God for that option! There is always a choice to turn back to the good ways, the sensible ways.

And as I look back, I am so grateful for the opportunities and the blessings I have experienced; the wisdom I have gained from my mistakes is much greater than the pain those mistakes have caused, and that must surely be a most valuable to hold within my heart.

And so I have reached a point - Otis obviously reached this point long before his birth, he is, after all, a wise old owl! - a point where I can finally look up and out onto this  beautiful world we live in. And it is colourful, because there are so many people out there, people with personalities and feelings, people making mistakes, making choices, making their lives worthwhile because they are learning and turning each moment into an opportunity. I know the excitement and joy to be greater than the pain and fear that we often mistakenly let reign within our souls.


On a lighter note, I have made a pact with Boris Romulus. He is to go to America and convince every American that he always wears a top hat and a monocle, that he, and every other British person, is related to the Queen, and that he will reconquer and reclaim what is British.
I'm sure something else happened that I'm meant to tell you about, but I've forgotten. Other than that we made gingerbread men at the group of someone we really wanted to meet from the Bible. I made Noah, because I would LOVE to have a really long chat with him and his experiences with God and the ark and the people around him. How did God speak to him? How did he know it was God? Where did he store the ark while he was building it? What did his friends say? What did his family say? What colour did he paint the ark? It's probably the most barmiest story in the Bible, and that's why I love it!

Kidnapped

What an interesting yesterday! Because Otis Burble was still sulking, and was in no way moved to talk, I decided to spend the day away from him - a little space would do him good, I thought.

So I went to see a castle and an abbey with Boris Romulus, an eccentric person, very much obsessed with freedom - but I will not go into too much detail because I think he might be a spy. When I shared my concerns with him, he assured me that he wasn't a spy, but I said that if he were a spy, that's the answer he would be giving me. I've decided to take that as proof that he's a spy, and will maintain cautious contact with him in future.

Inside the ruins of the castle grounds, we were attacked by invisible attackers, so we had cream tea, then Boris started doing that thing where he thinks he's a different person (I must remember to buy him name tags), so I decided to smuggle out and we went home.

The invisible attacks lasted throughout the night and most of today, which makes me suspect that Boris Romulus definitely must be a spy because he was only attacked slightly, and was perfectly fine today. I really need to find out what's going on. Just hope he doesn't read my blog.

Opium called round today, and we talked about heaven. She said, "It'll be like we're on drugs, but ... not." I thought that was quite a wise thing to say. After that we went to Tesco's and played with the plungers, it made us giggle a lot.

Otis Burble opened an eye at me today when I offered him a cookie crumb. They're his favourite and I think he's beginning to forgive me. To think, all I said was 'purple snail', and it's the worst grump he's been in since forever!


Here's a picture of the castle and one of the abbey, in case you were wondering if I really went to the castle and the abbey. I did, I have legs and eyes, and I wouldn't think of lying to you.

I'd like to leave you with an important message I've learnt today: Friends are important. Family is a privilege. Cherish them both, for they may not last forever. Love is an aspect of life that we sometimes take for granted. But what if we took delight in each moment we are blessed with spent with each person we love? In taking, we are giving; in giving, we are taking. That's more amazing than chocolate ;-).

Adventure Life

So today has been quite a busy day, baby-sitting the world's most amazingly crazy kid, then getting loooooaaaads of stuff done on my long list of things to do. I did that thing where I'd just finished a task but it wasn't on my list so I added it just so I could tick it off! I can imagine Otis' look if he knew. Luckily he hasn't woken up since he went into a huff with me yesterday.

It appears I have re-entered the real world, finally getting loads of stuff done because I can't stand being alone and doing nothing all day; the house is so empty without Clatalie or Liz. It's a good job I have pretty much planned the rest of my week! Thanks to Boris Romulus and Roro, as well as various other people who have managed to brighten up my week.

The prospect of having to enter the REAL real world has put a damper on things though; life was one big party when I was an official student, now it's just quiet. How do people make it to their middle-ages? I think I might fall over for boredom soon! Which means I need a job quickly, or some more chocolate. I'd take both if I could.

I've created a list of things to do to stop me feeling like a flattened flannel:

1. Eat lots more chocolate
2. Eat lots of fruit because the lots of chocolate I've just eaten will give me spots; fruit will counteract
3. Write a depressing song, then a nice one just to feel the contrast
4. Youtube human heart operations and other fascinating things
5. Youtube junk like weird kids and the scariest Britain's Got Talent contestants
6. Smoke a pipe
7. Buy a pipe
8. Create a plan of action, involving lots of interventions initiated by Dr. Hill and ending in becoming friends with Lily, Marshall, Ted, Robin, Barney, whoever ends up marrying Robin (possibly Barney?), whoever ends up marrying Barney (possibly Robin?), whoever ends up marrying Ted (???), and of course Marvin Waitforit Ericson.
9. Crochet a granny square blanket in lots of different colours
10. Read a funny book

I've just realised I've left one of THE MOST IMPORTANT things out - drinking tea! But then again, that happens regardless, so I'm off to make a cuppa. See you soon!

Reality

So Clatalie left on Saturday, and now the house is empty. Otis Burble and I have experienced a few scary moments, but luckily we'd remembered to lock both doors, so we were slightly relieved, until we remembered that ghosts aren't restricted by walls and doors ... we got over it and have been silence-listening; it's a game, a bit like cloud watching where you see pictures in the clouds, we were listening for words in the silence. I'm pretty sure I heard the words 'purple snail', but Otis disagrees and has been in a huff with me ever since, so I couldn't tell him about my experience at the hospital yesterday. I went to visit the perfusion department, and got to go into theatre, watch bypass surgery and see a real heart!!! It was fascinating, I so want to work there now! I had to wear scrubs and a cap and mask, it felt AWESOME!

So I'm on a high this week, although it's very quiet and lonely without Liz and Clatalie. Otis and I have been trying to get some jobs done, like put the bin out, the only problem being that I can't find the bin. It just seems to have disappeared. I'm pretty sure now that the bins around here have minds of their own. Once, a bin attacked me (and this is a true story). I was trying to convince it that it needed to go home, to the safety of our back yard, and it just jumped on me! So I'm thinking up some safety mechanisms and will shortly be informing the council of the irresponsibility of giving out real bins. Alive bins I mean.

Here's a picture of words in the silence.