This has been done by the eldest (twelve) on my phone when she was sitting in the car for a few minutes whilst I bought some dog food at the pet shop.
This has been done by the girl who says she doesn’t like art (as it’s taught in school) anymore.
This has been done by someone who has an instinctive approach to form.
It’s only a spider. And it’s not just any old spider, it’s straight from the East End this morning. Definitely a cockney.
Mind you, I can talk. I visited family at the weekend and before I could sleep in the room they had to remove the cobra skeleton, the snakeskin handbag and cover up the alligator skin on the wall. I put up with the mini squished desiccated baby gator and an ossified lizard at eye-level.
Everybody has them and everyone’s are different.
If you must have them at all, let them be your own. That is what I have learned today.
I always knew life in a Georgian house could not help but be elegant and so it is proving to be. The lower windows let in the light but the high ceilings cast a sufficiency of murk to make a dark corner for yourself, if needed. A door is ajar from the conservatory and a thick shaft of light is littered with leaf shadows that skitter and flicker like the wind galloping round a zoetrope.
This is more or less where we start, but not before Rudi has had a think about chasing a pony on the bridlepath. We then head down the hill to the boundary by a stream.
He keeps curling his tail over like a pig’s – I am not sure I like the look…
It used to be that a walk in the woods was out of the question with Rudi. Unlike my late dog, Senna, who was a faithful shepherd to me as his breeding dictated, Rudi is a ne’er do well fly-by-night likely to take off at the speed of light after any moving thing or shadow within a 5 mile radius. He is gimlet-eyed hunter who lives for the thrill of the chase. No wonder I didn’t fancy losing him in the woods. Sometimes I did fancy losing him in the woods actually, but I’m over that now.
We have known each other nearly two years now, and without wishing to tempt fate I would cautiously suggest we have formed, what is termed in the business, a “bond”. The exact nature of this bond is still up for grabs, we haven’t signed any treaty or conducted a referendum to quantify what one means to the other and neither are we likely to.
I decided to test my bond theory this weekend as a local wood practically threw itself at us for a walk. Having quizzed a lady with two elderly whippets in the car park as to the wisdom of letting these flighty types off the lead in the woods I decided I would be brave and give it a go. Shockingly, he did not disappear. Well he did disappear, but not altogether, leaping into view briefly before hopping off like a kangaroo back into the trees. I sounded like a contestant on “One Man and His Dog” on speed what with the incessant whistling, slightly less intrusive in the natural setting (I think) than roaring and bellowing his Russian ballet dancing name, but the whistling worked. Ok, it wasn’t total recall, but it worked as a reminder that he didn’t drive himself there for a walk on his own.
I am not going to be complacent. I didn’t see any of the hard drugs known to users as “squirrels” yesterday, so we didn’t get the chance to test our bond and the whistling when he was on a raging high, but it was an encouraging start to the autumnal walks campaign.