Into the Woods

Both Stephen and I felt tired and a bit off colour this morning when the alarm went off at the usual time for us to get ready for our Sunday run. The sound of the rain on the French doors brought us down to a slower pace to reconsider. Coffee first. Dreadful habit really, and one that we completely kicked for a while about forty years ago, during which time all our bike rides went to towns 15 to 20 miles away from home where we would cycle to Brighton, Horsham or Chichester, where there was a major coffee chain outlet. We would stand in the queue and inhale the smell of the freshly brewed nectar of the siren lobster lady, as we have long thought of her. We would order a black tea or a juice or a mineral water and drink that sitting inside to maximise the aroma of the evil liquid that we so wanted. We didn’t indulge in that passion for a good few years until we both decided that life was too short for such denial and what in the name of mercy, were we causing ourselves such suffering for. The fall back into the old addiction was short and sweet, very sweet. However, we did after serious discussions limit our daily intake to three cups per day with 3 pm as a no arguments, outside time limit. This rule is still in place and is manageable.

 

Back to today. We had had a tiring week, that involved a lot of miles in the truck earning a crust of bread with the work that presented itself. Within the UK and much of France, we know exactly which motorway rest stops have which coffee chain. We have done the same amount of exercise this week and had days of the same length and eaten the same food; Steve slightly more than me. This is because he does love his cooking but one of his downfalls/best points, depending on how you see it, is that he pays attention to his meal presentation (it is never just a messy pile of grub). So, what happens is that he like both dishes to look identical both have the same amount of everything including any art work trimming.

 

Knowing which side my bread is buttered, I rarely make any comment concerning the portions. One little trick that I have become quite proficient at is drawing his attention to something, maybe a passer by or a pretty bird on the lawn or some activity over the road or simply Miss Birdy the cat. Then during the time his attention is focused elsewhere, I quickly pass something from my plate to his. Finally, I will admit to being a lightweight and push my plate over to his side of the marble top table once he has cleared his plate. This seems to work, without him getting upset that I didn’t eat the dinner that he had slaved over a hot stove to prepare. 

 

This morning, instead of anything very energetic once it had stopped raining, we opted for a little Qigong. Well actually, we did several of the usual YouTube sessions with the same instructor but then Steve had found a new teacher and asked if I would like to see what her lesson was like. It was much slower and more deliberate than group we regularly follow and repetitions certainly did repeat. There was an in-depth set of Swimming Dragon that went on for an hour. It took each tiny part to pieces, so there we be no chance of not doing it correctly which we were most grateful for and went alone with our slow jerk free mood making balance and detail easier to follow.

 After that we took our second coffee and decided that since the weather had cleared up considerably to go out for a walk in the woods and gather a few photos, rather than run, putting our obviously tired muscles under pressure having spent a couple of hours clearing our muddled brains and relaxing our tired bodies.

 We chose to walk through the little wood that our cousin Sally had painted beautifully, she had had it made into a greetings card that had arrived yesterday and I had posted on Instagram. The painting showed that pretty woodland in summer and we had not run through there for quite a while, because in winter it can be very muddy indeed and that means slippery of course, neither of us needs to tempt any falls; falls can be costly to training programmes.

 

 We had been walking for about an hour and were deep into the woods even at the slow pace because it was getting a slippery with all the fallen leaves and the heavy rain that we have had lately. We had just made a turn onto a very narrow path when a large dog came hurtling toward us, barking and growling and with considerable amount of paw skid going on. He was an Alsatian type with a wall eye and a bit scruffy looking. Now I am of the opinion that any dog’s behaviour is all about the care its owner has taken to train it, not to mention how he or she has cared for it. This dog was badly behaved and was showing aggression. Steve was about fifty metres away from me and we both have the idea, right or wrong, that in a situation like this the best thing to do is to stand still and give the owner a chance to call it back or come and get it and put a lead on.

 

 

We heard the owner before we saw him and we also unfortunately saw his other two dogs. One a largish Collie cross type and another smaller Heinz that he had restrained and straining on a lead. The scruffy Alsatian run in unruly circles trying to herd in, Steve and myself. Steve moved toward me but I said it would be easier for the man to gather his dogs if we stayed still. The man was shouting at the dogs in a nasty aggressive way and they were not taking much notice of him at all, both dogs tearing around the two of us barking snapping and growling. Even that was not even as load as the foul language pouring out of the mouth of the man. He stopped shouting at the dogs and starting pouring out abuse at the two of us. Putting what he shouted at us a politely as possible, he said that we were a mental pair of self-abusers of various kinds and if we had carried on walking the dogs would have taken no notice of us. That was strange since we had stopped to stand still because of his dog’s unruly behaviour. The torrent of abuse from the man’s filthy mouth was endless. Neither Steve nor I are afraid of animals and I am sure the dogs knew that, because we were ignoring them. Eventually, that unpleasant man gathered the dogs and moved away in another direction.

 

Stephen and I moved on in the direction we had been walking, when clearly having taken a huge circle through the woods around us, the biggest dog, the Alsatian-ish creature came charging towards us from the front making one last sweep and I swear it was smiling as if to say “Goodbye hope to meet you again”!

 

We did actually feel most sorry for those three dogs because I said earlier, dogs can only learn from their owners, they take the patterns of the home and from the people who feed them. We felt sure that we know without doubt, which one in their household was the nasty aggressive ignorant one.

 

The rest of our winter woodland walk was absolutely lovely.