It pretty much sums up my ideal, and something which has been my ideal since I was about 19. I don’t quite see it happening, not while I live in this expensive country and have very specific plans about a detached dwelling and a bird sanctuary. In fact, there is a project a friend of mine works on, an eco village in the West of Ireland, and I’m looking into that as well – it would mean the self-sufficient life I aim for, with planting our own food etc.
I suspect I’ll have to get out of my current living situation before that project becomes reality though, and if my mortgage does get approved, I might end up with a liveable compromise: a house with a decent energy rating where I can, after saving up for another few years, install solar panels and a geo-thermal heat pump as well as grow my own food – and have my bird sanctuary. I’ll still have to work, but I hope I’ll be able to work from home. The two hours I currently spend commuting every day could be used for the sanctuary, without making any other change.
To own my day would, of course, be the ultimate freedom. To Coach and look after cute featherballs, and to game, and to meet friends. To dance and sing, and celebrate the moon and the sun and the changing of the seasons. To sit in front of the fire with a mug of tea and a good book. It’s got to be possible, right?
And it better happen sooner rather than later, because my body is sending me signal after signal that all is not right. For the last week and a half, I’ve been battling streptococcus throat, and despite antibiotics I’m still not well and now I also have a cold on top of everything else. It’s alright, body – I got the message! I’m working on it! The wait can be very, very trying at times.
I’m not quite ready to talk or write about the other news, which is that my beloved Titus, my “big grey boy” as I used to call him, has died. I was with him as he softly fell asleep on the floor of the cage, slept for about an hour, and then fell over dead. I’m so very sad – it’s so cruel because he’d just started to trust me a little in his last few days, happily sat on my finger and ate out of my hand. I brought his body in for an autopsy, and it looks like he had testicular cancer. The toxicology report isn’t back yet, but there’s a chance I’ve no gastric yeast in my aviary after all. Then again, why is Talion throwing up? I hope he doesn’t have a tumor too.
That’s it from me this time, I’m going to play with “the babies” Leah and Miko for a bit – I’m typing this sitting on my bed with my laptop, watching over them as they play outside the cage, and about every half hour one of them flutters to the floor and needs to be rescued, hehe. That’s them in the picture above – aren’t they adorable? Once I know my aviary is disease-free, I’ll introduce them to the “big little budgies” (Talion and Tracey are older, but tiny. I suspect Leah and Miko might be from exhibition-type parents) downstairs.