Enjoy while you can...

We (hubby, son-and-heir, Temi and I) sat watching the athletics a little while ago. It was a Saturday, the big night for the World Championships in London. Bittersweet. There had been much hyped-up publicity and loads of advance warning of when the two greatest star athletes, Mo Farah and Usein Bolt, would run. It was to be their last respective races. The very last ones. Rather sweet really: the announcements kept Mo or Bolt-time (“Mo-time minus 28 minutes” as a running footer at the bottom left of the screen) to make sure everyone knew when to look. Though not at the same time obviously. Then Mo couldn’t make it past an Eritrean gentleman and looked totally gutted to “only” claim silver for the 5000 meters (I wish...). And a little later Bolt collapsed, injured, unable to complete his part of the relay and scuppering Jamaica’s chances entirely.

Well, well, well… we had grown so accustomed that these giants wiped the floor with the opposition that to see them falter was painful. I felt really sorry for them both, though one of the BBC commentators (cannot remember names – it’s like traffic wardens, they get younger and younger…) put things in perspective when she rightfully claimed that it didn’t make a sausage of difference (or words to that effect) because their legacy was safe. They had proved so many times they were the greatest that it really didn’t matter what happened on this night. These pearls of wisdom were, I think, uttered after Mo’s race and before Bolt’s. A good thing, in hindsight, as things were to get worse.

However, get to the point woman!

It’s a bit like that for all of us really, except with a lot less bling on lanyards hanging around the house. In our twenties, we have no idea who we are and there’s a lot of experimenting going on, if we’re lucky. In our thirties or forties if a late developer like me, some of the rough edges have been knocked off and we’ve settled into a routine. Hamster-wheel comes to mind. We think we know who we are. Then in our fifties we are used to a bit of respect and knowing where we fit in life and work. And then bingo! Whilst we’re preparing to go out in a blaze of glory (or quietly if that way inclined) Something Unexpected comes up and shakes the living daylights out of us. We’d planned to retire on our terms, and are being put out to grass, feeling dumped unceremoniously. Way before our time. Or forced to work longer, just as bad.

So the moral of the story is…

Enjoy everything while it lasts, particularly friends and family while they’re still around, and learn to let go. The golden people who have just gone a little over the top of their game are showing us the way. There’ll always be a new wave of young whipper snappers looking to take over what we thought, delusionally perhaps, rightfully ours. But as staying at the top takes more and more energy, they’re doing us a favour. Time to step back and admire them. We were like that once… 

Temi doesn’t do “let go” but this is one of her ways of enjoying the members of her pack (as you can see in the sadly grainy picture, my photographing skills could do with a bit of improvement).

...Temi & T

Hello everyone. Perhaps some introductions would be useful...

This is Temi (dog); a five-year-old golden retriever/border collie cross. She’s actually Artemis, the Greek goddess of hunting, though that’s only used when she’s been particularly wayward. At all other times she’s Temi for short, or Tems for super-short. She’s sneaky; she’s small and still looks like a golden retriever puppy, though at five-and-a-bit she’s supposed to be middle-aged. As she has not been blessed with our previous true blue goldie’s secret weapon: googoo eyes, Temi’s puppy features are her secret weapon to twiddle ALL (well, almost all) humans around her small paw. It’s really disconcerting that she is 100% collie inside, which is uncharted territory if your only previous dog was a golden. Though Tems is gorgeous, she doesn’t do golden very well – she seems to struggle with being laid back (unless she’s really really tired), she has no idea what to do with a ball, used to lack the food-hoover gene (more about that later) and is very intelligent indeed. And super-strong for her size. She does a passable impression of a princess or even a diva (a smidgen highly strung) … She also fervently believes she’s a lap dog. And she herds everything in sight, humans, or even herself if she gets particularly excited. That’s the unexpected. Oh, and because she’s a rescue, she has terrible separation anxiety. I bet all you rescue dog parents know exactly what that means…

Temi is, however, the most affectionate bundle of fur I have ever met, heavily into leaning on her humans, she’s a natural empath and a superb listener. And with a single coat, doesn’t shed quite as much as we’re used to 😊 with an interesting side-effect – she enjoys a spot of sunbathing. Short spot of sunbathing I hasten to add and only in moderate environments. With me like a mother hen fussing and calling her in if she goes over the allotted few minutes.

Much-favoured are her humans, her collection of soft toys (she’s only destroyed a couple, which means her stash is growing), food (a relatively new phenomenon), and recently squirrels! The latter are a revelation – she chases cats (sadly) and woofs madly at them, but with squirrels she whimpers, goes frantic and is partial to hugging the tree up which said squirrels have nipped. It’s very funny and would certainly be worthy of a picture, but as this tends to be her first thing in the morning routine, am not compos mentis enough to remember my phone, and anyway, I tend to notice just as she lets go of the tree. She seems to believe the squirrels are a smaller version of her, in a way, very alert and lightning fast.

In this blog I’ll endeavour to portray the world through her eyes as well as mine.