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December 2010



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Dec. 1st, 2010

Waitin' on that ray of light

...And waiting. And waiting. Life has been so frustrating lately, my innate wolf has done nothing but sat back on her haunches with a snarl traced around her lips, ears back, defying anyone to go near her.

While she is doing this, I'm feeling traces of guilt creeping in despite my walls put up to keep it out. I have a warm nest, plenty of food, and a job, which I know I should be ever thankful for. But I can't help wishing I had a different job, a nest somewhere else and some space of my own. Humans tend to be such fickle things, we are constantly looking towards what we want rather than the things we do have. And that is why I feel so damn annoyed all the time, 24/7. To risk sounding like a whingy teenage emo, I hate my life. I hate the house, half the inhabitants in it, and most of all, I hate my job. And I bloody well shouldn't.

The one and only thing I pride (and sometimes dislike) about my personality is my ability to think of the world differently to others. Where people will look at things they don't like and judge them, I look at them and want to know everything about them. If someone looks at a brutal murderer and thinks "What a horrible person, keep away from him." I think: "What an intruiging person, I want to learn everything about him."
It's a strange, occasionally dangerous mindset, but it is unique, my own. I don't force or school myself to think that way, it comes entirely naturally. I wonder at things, I guess at them, I ask about them. I don't make snap descisions and I don't act like other humans.

Which is why my latest behavior is really pissing me off. I can't help it, but I am acting just like a normal human. I am looking at bigger and brighter things, wondering how I can get my hands on them. I'm looking at trying to get a good job to dump the one I have, even though plenty of other people are fruitlessly searching for one. I don't want to think like this. I don't want to be like so many men and women, searching thier whole lives for better things while completely overlooking the wonderful things they already have. I want to live in the moment, to enjoy those little things.

And that's what's confusing about this - I do enjoy life's little things. I can't tell you how much I love curling up with my wolf, devouring a whole, fresh mango, stopping to watch one of my red kites soar, playing around in the snow like a puppy, falling asleep with several alive and dead animals for company. I love those moments, and everytime I am gifted with one I genuinely do think how wonderful it is. It's those sort of moments that make my innate wolf run around with me, tail wagging, tongue hanging out, eyes bright with the freedom and pleasure of it. And then, something happens that makes me drag myself back to reality, and remember why I'm feeling so damn bad all the time. And it makes me realise - Yes, you can find happiness where ever you are, whatever that situation. But that happiness will only go so deep as the freedom you have.

Blargh, I'm tired and I feel like I'm going around in meaningless circles. I know what's frustrating me, I just can't find words to express it. And when I try, I feel bad because it sounds so weak and pathetic, and there are so many others worse off than me with worse mindsets who get along just fine.

I wish I were a stronger person. I wish I was clever, brave, and unafraid. But the truth is, I'm frightened. All the time. And I don't want to be.

Oct. 10th, 2010

(no subject)

Sound the Bugle now, tell them I don't care.
There's not a road I know that leads to anywhere.
Without a light I fear that I will stumble in the dark,
Lay right down and decide, not to go on

Then from on high, somewhere in the distance
There's a voice that calls: "Remember who you are!"
If you lose yourself, your courage soon will follow.

So be strong tonight, remember who you are.

To be free once more, that's worth fighting for!

Yiss, there's a voice out there that sings the soundtrack to everyone's life once in a while. It just happens that for me this time it's Brian Adams' Sound the Bugle.

Monotonous is the word I fear most in the world, and not without a good reason. Life needs to have some variety. You need to do something different. If you don't, your mind, body and even your very spirit can wither. Your spirit shuffles along with it's head down, not knowing, caring, that slowly it's starving to death. It turns into a mindless zombie, and should it stumble and fall it doesn't bother to pick itself up. And that's just what mine has been doing the past few months. It's been shuffling along a dark passage, about to fall into a trap. Then it stopped, and it smelled something. It smelled a small breeze of hope on the wind, and suddenly, it stopped, slammed it's foot down in anger and refused to take one more step until it's path had been purposfully changed and it could trot up a much brighter pathway.

Yuss, hope lights the pathway, it gives us something to look up at with adoration and caring and lifts our spirits, teaching them to fly. And to talk of flying, what has given us this small taste of hope? Well while I'm writing it down I may as well recount the whole day.

It started on the 2nd of October, 2010. The day I went to the Herts Game and Country fair. After much persuasion I'd finally convinced the parents to let me go and they decided to bring half the family too. We saw a hamster judging competition, marvelous gundogs at work, hundreds of vendors selling intruiging things, horse sports, woodcarving, a blacksmith guild and game cookery classes. Then we saw the falconry. I was absolutely amazed by the sheer number of birds. Owls, hawks, falcons, eagles, vultures, buzzards, you name it they had it. The rest of the family grey quickly bored by the birds, but I adored them. After they'd left the final tent I stayed behind to look at the harris hawks. The falconer watched me carefully, then told me he could see quite clearly that I had a love for the birds and asked if I wanted to hold one of them. I replied nervously but with definate entusiasm, and he brought over a massive female harris hawk named Maggie. She was quite the looker. At 23 years old, she was still a capable hunter and was very smart. The falconer told me to deliberately drop the leash, so I did, and she prompty picked it up and pushed it back into my hand, then searched my fingers for bits of food, nibbling them quite hard when she couldn't smell any. I absolutely adored her, and was quite sad to have to give her back.

After holding Maggie, we watched a gundog show. I have never seen such incredibly smart dogs. The one on show was a tiny bitch who had been trained to catch birds after they'd been shot. Boy, was she sharp. Once a fake lure had been thrown and a gun fired to stimulate shooting a bird and it falling, she was given voice directions as to where it was. She followed her masters voice without a hesitation, and when she was uncertain she looked at him and he pointed either left or right. She was actually capable of following his arm signals, twisting left or right as he commanded. She found the lure and came sprinting back to owner with a huge smile on her face like she was the happiest thing ever. Sometimes, the owner explained, two birds are shot in quick succession. One might be shot dead immediately, but one might be injured and need to be brought back to the owner asap. If the bitch found the dead bird first and picked it up to bring it back, the master would shout "Leave!" and the dog would immediately put it down and go after the injured bird. Every command he gave her was met with a quick and entusiastic responce, she seemed to understand every word he was telling her. I wanted her too. <3

After going around the vendors and watching part of the horse show, everyone stopped at the main eating tent for food. Brekfast, lunch and dinner in this family is a very slow affair, and after wolfing down my suspitiously beef-like ostrich burger I hovered around the table wondering why they were taking so long where there was still so many fascinating things to see, smell, taste and experience. Mum eventually got tired of my hovering and told me to go and do something, which I promptly done without any persuasion.

Enjoying my freedom, I stopped to watch a chef teaching people how to properly roast a pheasant for a while, went to drool over the beautiful, thick, rugged sheepskins then made my way back to the falconry tent. On my way past the burger stand, I saw this mud soaked feather lying on the floor and curious, picked it up. Through the dirt I could see barring on it and deciding it looked suspitiously like a bird of prey feather, pushed it into my satchel and carried on to the falconry. I stopped first off to watch the glorious Steppe eagle. The same bird out of The Sight, I was quite amazed at how massive and cruel looking this bird looked. He was a male called Boris, and had the biggest, sharpest beak I've ever seen. At one point he spread his wings and tried to fly off his perch, and his wingspan was bigger than a very tall male human lying down. The birds that caught my attention most though were the hybrids. There were some Gyr/Saker hybrids, some buzzard hybrids, and some peregrine hybrids. They all had some stunning characteristics of each parent and were quite fascinating to watch. The falconer, a different one to the one mentioned prior, told me that he could see I harboured a love for the birds rather than just a passing interest like everyone else who had entered the tent. I was quite startled to be told this a second time in one day, and wondered if my face was really that easy to read. I guess being away from human contact ment that I haven't learned to control my facial expressions like other people. I was really cautious of this old male at first, he didn't have the most open, friendly looking face, but once he'd made the impression of just being a lonely old man who loved his birds I relaxed quite a bit in his presence. He asked me which bird I'd taken a liking to most, and when I told him it was the ferruginous buzzard he brought the bird over so I could have a closer look. She was very eagle like in appearence, which I told him and he explained that the latin name basically means buzzard-eagle because of thier appearance. After a small discussion about the birds he said he had to go conduct a flying display, but gave me his buisness card and told me to ring him if I wanted to come see the birds at his later events. I watched the bird show, and some really amazing creatures were shown. An African Fish Eagle was shown, as well as other birds who's long names I can't quite recall.

After the show I went back to the bird tent to look at them all again. The falconer, who's buisness card told me his name was Andy, was telling an interested man all about how the ferruginous buzzard had a phobia of dogs and had once slaughtered an inquisitive collie by gripping it's scruff and ripping it's throat out. Looking at the beak and talons of the bird, it certainly wasn't hard to imagine. My mobile started ringing half way through the anecdote, and I was being summoned away from my beloved birds and back to the car. But I didn't want to go yet, oh no. I was determind to stay with my birdies even if it ment being naughty. So I stayed a terse few minutes more (which felt like an eternity) then when most of the other people had left the tent I noticed the Gyr/saker hybrid, Lad, had dropped one of his primary feathers. I cautiously asked Andy if I could have it for my collection, and he not only gave me the feather but went and fetched the paired feather from his van so I could keep the pair together. I couldn't have been more grateful to this man. And as if he hadn't had already done enough, he said come winter time I should call him and I could come work with his birds as an apprentice thing of sorts. He told me accomodation would be basic, but I was free to come fly and learn with the birds if I was willing to travel for it.

Yiss, that little piece of hope has given me something to gnaw on. It's my little light in the darkness, preventing me from stumbling and refusing to get up again. I am so lost in life, I have no goals, no real talents, nothing to look foward to or rely on. Sometimes you just need that one little thing to hold onto, to keep you afloat in your own sanity. And as for that muddy feather I picked up, it turned out to be a gorgeous barred tail feather from some bird of prey. I have yet to find out which one though.

So moving on to present and future life, there is something in my immediate future to worry about. When I was out with my sister a few weeks back we bumped into one of her work colleagues and his wife. After the general small talk humans seem to favour, his wife invited us around for dinner on the 16th, which we accepted. Then his wife, named Jo, asked us if there was anywhere around the town where she could find some nice winter boots. I told her about some beautiful sheepskin boots that  a nearby shop had recently stocked in, and she looks utterly horrifed, exchanged a look with her husband and said she couldn't possibly wear something that had been a living animal. She said she'd wear them if they were fake, but certainly not real. Oh noes. I smiled politely and said the same shop also stocked fake skin boots too. She looked mollified and left. I looked at my sister. "This is going to cause problems." I said.

We discussed it on the way home. Of couse I'm not the sort of person who'll throw my opinion in her face, nor do I disrespect hers, not do I think she's wrong for it. I'm ok with people who feel uncomfortable using animals. But I can't tell if she'll be as lenient for my opinions. Naturally, I'm not going to walk in and start telling her all about my skinning animals hobby, but inevitably conversation tends to fall onto me as I don't say much and people want to make me feel included. When the situation arises, I'll be fine if I just bend my words a bit and say I'm interested in collecting natural history. If she enquires further I'll tell her about my love for nature and how I enjoy things like falconry, zoos and farms, and oh yeah, taxidermy. I'm going for the surpirse tactic. It's the last thing people expect to come out the mouth of a petite 16 year old female, so most people are surprised which turns into interest. Some are a bit put off by the dead animals part, but I've never had anyone tell me it's 'wrong'.
None of this worries me, exept for one thing. My brother. Oooooh boy, if he wasn't coming things would be much easier. But he has the biggest mouth known to mankind, and no doubt will mention something stupid or embarrasing. He embarreses and angers my sister every single time they go out to a dinner or party together, because he is, quite frankly, a complete social retard. His way of socialising is to insult people and pick up on thier personal subjects and discuss it. He is completely immune to when someone feels uncomfortable or uninterested.  Almost every time my sister comes home from work she's angry at something he's done or said. He calls people fat, spreads rumours and even called my sisters boss, a really nice woman who interviewed me, a bitch. Not to her face of course, he's way too chicken for that. In short, if you haven't already gotten it, he is the world's biggest twat.

Which is why I am so worried about him coming to this dinner. I can just see him putting on that stupid grin of his when someone asks me what I enjoy doing, and interrupting with something horrible before I can awnser.  I swear I will throw a knife at him if he does anything stupid during this dinner. And if he does, I really don't know how I will talk my way out of it. I am in no way ashamed of what I do, nor do I think it's wrong, but I want to prevent from offending people at all costs.

Urrrgh, if only there was someone I could hire to take this twit away for the whole day so I can actually enjoy some sort of socialisation in peace.

Anyways, today, 10/10/10, is a stunning bright, beautiful day and I'm not going to waste it sitting in front of the computer anymore. Byes!

Sep. 21st, 2010

Ups and Downs in Emotions

Yuss, the past couple of days have been strangely tempermental. Sometimes I'll feel young and bursting with life, and sometimes I'll just want to curl up and escape from all the things in my life. It's been an absolutely exhausting mix, I don't know wether to put it down to silly female hormones or the frustration of being shut inside with a refreshing breath of autumn taunting me on the breeze.

Yesterday morning I woke up so full of energy, yet I couldn't release it because the house was as usual more messy than a skip. So after spending the morning cleaning, I had a quick lunch, put a camera, a sliding craft knife and Red (my fox) in my strongest canvas satchel and set off to the fields with the determined intention of seeking for and finding something I've always wanted: A Red Kite feather.

I trotted my way over to the first field, and once we were out the way of people I took Red out and put him over my shoulders. It's quite amazing how his full beauty only really shows when he's outside in proper sunlight. I found myself admiring his colours all over again, like reminding yourself why you fell in love in the first place.  We walked down the length of the first field and crossed the road into the next one. I looked up at the sky, and what should be sailing right over me, but the stunning, huge, Red Kite. It sailed around in circles for a minute then decidedly changed direction and went off. I watched carefully as to where it was headed, then took a look around the field. A big red thing in the middle of the ploughed land immediately caught my attention. It was too far away too see what it was. Was it a fox? It was the right size and colour. It was also the right size and colour to be a landed Red Kite, but I couldn't tell from the distance. I hovered indesicively. I'd feel so naughty treading all over the farmers land, but I really wanted to see what this thing was too. I glanced around, and trotted out a little way. Then a little further. Then a little further. Eventually I just decided to hell with it, and went all the way. It was a big, red, sheet of.... something. It was snagged on a stick and fluttered a little to give the illusion it was alive. Dissapointed, I turned back and made my way around the other side of the field I had previously come down.

My theory was, Red Kites are scavengers and the best place for them to find carcasses would be on the side of the road. Therefor the more kites landed on the roads the more feathers would be around the road. So I stuck near the roads, my eyes all at once in the sky, on the road and in the surrounding fields. I continued along a loooooong lane for a while, then noticed a turn off into a field that had a big copse of trees on one side. Kites like to roost in high trees, so I figured underneath would be a likely place for feathers. On the way around towards the trees I noticed some scats. I think they were fox... so I could identify them later, I snapped a shot on my phone (completely and utterly forgetting the camera in my satchel) and carried on. Once I'd reached the trees I started noseying around in the bushes and foliage underneath them. Suddenly I head this twig snap and a huge rustle in the bush to my immediate right. I froze, and my chest went hot then cold. Fight or flight immediately kicked in, though not for any particular reason as there's nothing in the countryside that can harm me. I just stood there completely still, half crouched. It could have been a fox, badger or small deer, but foxes and badgers can bite when threatened and I certainly wasn't about to get bitten. I backed away from the bush slowly and made a big arc around it before continuing on my feather hunt. I felt very silly after. There was probably a small baby bunny sniggering away to itself in that bush. I passed beneath an Oak tree, then stopped and backtracked under it. I don't know what drew me back to that tree, but when I took a good long look into it's branches there was a jay hopping between branches. Yuss, jay feathers! I eargerly searched the ground, and what should I find but a big, red chest feather of the Red Kite. I was thrilled. It wasn't exactly a big, glorious wing or tail feather, but it was still what I had set out to find. Feeling rather pleased with myself, I trotted off happily still on the same trail. At the bottom of the field was a road, and a big white van with two Asian men in it was coming along the road. They were both staring, though wether it was at me or at Red I have no idea. 'Don't stop don't stop' I muttered under my breath as the van started slowing down. They slowed practically to a stop, but thankfully kept going without saying anything, though both continued to stare for as long as they could. I would have loved to know what was going through thier minds, though I was very relieved that they didn't stop. After trekking up the next field, I got the fright of my life when a phone went off next to me and I was convinced there was a stalker following me who had forgotten to switch his phone off, when I realised it was mine. "Where are you?!" My mum demanded. "Ummm... in a field somewhere..." was the best I could come up with.

After going through several more fields, traveling along fox and bunny tracks, picking up several more small common feathers and coming across some fresh owl pellets and a mostly eated pigeon, I exhaustedly took Red over my arms and made my way back across all the fields to home again. In the last field there were two male teenagers playing around with a moped. They were right in the middle of the pathway and I didn't want a confrontation. I tried making an arc around them, but one of them noticed me. "Heeeeeeeeeeeey babe!" he shouted. I gave him my best snarly, don't-piss-me-about face and trotted off. Funny thing was he didn't even notice the dead fox I was holding. What a moron. When we were out of earshot I rolled my eyes and told Red all about how stupid teenage males were. 

On the way back I picked up some beautiful red and gold leaves and eventually got home again. I collapsed on the kitchen floor and started searching my pockets for my prized feather I had just trecked three miles to find. Every other feather I picked up came out of the pockets, but no Red Kite feather. I frantically searched every pocket and all through my satchel, but nothing. I stopped, and burst out laughing. Hundreds of feathers had gone into that pocket, and every single one had come out safe and sound. But no, not this one I had gone so far to find. It was so, so, so typical. Still, I wasn't too upset. It had been an enjoyable walk and one day I really would find that beautiful wing or tail feather I so desired. It's just a matter or seeking hard and having patience.

Lots of exersise is supposed to leave you in good spirits, but as the hours went on I found my mood growing more and more upset. I desperately wanted someone to talk to. I wanted to tell someone about my funny, ironic day. But there was no one to talk to. I spent the evening feeling lonely, upset and lost and eventually went to bed in tears. I got very little sleep, too much on my mind and too upset to drift off easily.

The following morning (this morning) I woke up feeling a little better but still quite down. Plus I had a tonne of washing up to do and the house was a complete and utter tip again. I spent the morning and most of the afternoon washing, cleaning, sweeping, mopping, then by mid afternoon I collapsed on the sofa and fell asleep. When I woke I was promply informed that someone had made a mess in the kitchen and I needed to tidy it up, along with a big mess in the hallway too. Oh, joy. Once I'd finished all that there was an hour before the males came home so I snatched the opportunity to watch a very interesting documentary on Africa's deserts. They are soooo fascinating. The biggest surprise was there are non-native red foxes living in the Kalahari. I have no idea how they survive in the heat.

By evening I'm feeling a lot better, having finally finished a picture of a maned wolf I've been wanting to do. It's been ages since I finished a coloured piece and I'm feeling quite smug with myself. They eyes are a little off and the ears a bit too small, but I'm still proud of it. Anyways, I have found these massive bundles of hawk, buzzard and owl feathers on eBay which have absolutely had me salivating over my keyboard. I'm trying to convince myself to save everything for my driving lessons, but but but......... They are just tooooo lovely. I'm completely in love with them. We'll see how high the auction goes. Hopefully waaaay to high for me.

From a very tired and emtionally drained Wulfie, goodnight!

Sep. 15th, 2010

Today I'm Floating

I had such an awesome dream, I feel I just have to type it up now while it's still fresh in my memory! It was so good, I woke up in the most silly, playful mood and I've been bouncing around all morning. Ah yiss, here goes.....

In my dream, myself and my family lived in this wonderful, big English cottage with a beautiful flowery garden. We were still in Hemel, as after pottering around the house for a while in my dream I decided to go to the antique market in middle of the town. While weaving through the huge crowds that had gathered I spotted this absolutely gorgeous French Period chair. It had elegant woodwork on the backing, and the seat was covered with a graceful pale green patterned silk. The wood was covered in scratches, and the silk covered in stains, but it was still a very handsome chair. I was hovering around it, remarking at it's beauty, when the stall owner, an Asian man about 20 years old, came sidling up to me and showed me the £50 price tag. I said no, for the condition it's in, it's a bad price. The man looked at me rather sorrowfully. 'Thats just what Nick said.' He said morosely. '"terrible condition and outrageously priced!"' he said. Such a rude person.' and he gave me a dissaproving look like it was my fault.

In my dream you see, everyone just automatically knows who Nick is. Everyone, I don't know how. They just do. They automatically know he's my Wulfie too, for some unknown, crazy reason. My mind plays funny tricks sometimes. :D

After I'd asked the Asian man where Nick was, he pointed to the indoor shopping center so that's where I went. I spent ages weaving my way through the unusually thick crowd that had gathered. I eventually found him, my little heart racing so loud. He was standing in the middle of the center, wearing a long black overcoat, not unlike Dr Who-ish. :p I don't actually recall exactly what happened in the brief time after that, or maybe my mind had subconciously known that I wouldn't know what to do and it skipped that part. What I do recall is that Nick told me he was hungry so we went in search of a food vendor. Again, my mind skipped a little, and the next thing I knew we were walking along with some gorgeous looking toffee popcorn thing on a stick. We came across the back entrance of a big stage theatre, or something of the sort. I decided it was time for a bit of mischief and crept in, not stopping to see if Nick would follow. After wandering around in there for a few minutes I came across a man at a podium, and realised it was an important government meeting and that was the Prime Minister talking :D There were bodyguards everywhere. I climbed some scaffholding to get a better look at this private meeting, but after I'd sat there for a minute two of the huge, burly bodyguards spotted me and started making thier way towards the scaffholding. I scurried my way down and Nick was at the bottom, looking quite amused. We were chased a little while by the bodyguards, eventually emerging uncaught out of a side entrance, where Nick actually had a big, black motorbike waiting. Which was very very stupid of my mind to come up with, Nick definately would never own a bike. :p I have no idea why it gave him one, but hey, it did, and we used it to get away from the theatre building and down the roads back to my house. A good portion of my dream was revolved around that bike ride, and I remember just seeing the back of his head and the world wizzing past and feeling his bodyheat.  

We got back safely and the cottage was empty, save for mum obliviously doing the ironing upstairs. In the cottage in my dream it was layed out like a bigger version of my Nans house: walk into an entrance hall, where the kitchen is directly in front of you, the living room to the right and the staircase to the left. We stood in the entrance hall for a while, just talking among ourselves. The strange thing was, I didn't hear any voices of any sort in my dream, and yet I automatically knew what people were saying. Just without hearing them. We talked for five minutes, and at some point Nick had a drink in his hand, but after a while the alpha male came storming through the door with the twit at his heels. We both sort of jumped and Nick flattened himself against the wall so as not to be seen, but the alpha male was too busy complaining about something and striding towards the kitchen to notice. Mum came flying down the stairs looking harrased, pandering and whining to the males every little need, and she didn't notice Nick either. We grinned at each other in relief and both went out the front door. He gave me a bit of paper with contact details on it, smiled at me and was gone. I wanted desperately to ask him if he would stay and be back tommorow, not to leave me again, but he was gone before I could ask.

I went into the flowery garden and hid the bit of paper in an empty terracotta pot next to a bench. The moment after it was out of sight the alpha male came out, still in a terrible mood and sat down on the bench demanding to know what I'd done with a book he couldn't find. After telling him I had no idea where it was (which I really didn't), he suddenly had the notion he'd left it inside the terracotta pot and started reaching down to check. 'No no!' I squealed. 'I've just remembered, it's in the living room on the table!' and thankfully he didn't seem the slightest suspitious and went off to check.

After that I woke up, around 3 in the morning. I knew that if I didn't write it all down I'd forget it, so I painstakingly wrote it all out in the note section on my phone then dropped off again. It was such a glorious dream, I hope I'll remember it forever. The adrenaline, the rush, the fun of it. Oh why do these things never happen in real life? :(