Monday, 14 September 2009

Bugs and Other Gripes

I am envious of doers. My friends living in Brittany are doers. They have to be; they are permaculturalists with a small-holding and their animals will not stand for petty upsets in their personal lives. They need feeding - NOW.

There is something wonderful in the rhythms of life, in the seasons, in the-day-to-day necessities of living, in living, no better exemplified than in the naturalist's, Kingsdowner, blog. And this is especially true if, like Stuart and Gabrielle,  you are responsible for the lives of others, even if your ambition, is, in the end, to fatten, kill and eat the animals you care for. Apologies to vegans and vegetarians, but that is as has been and so it will be for an age to come.

It is the caring that is all. We all live and die. Who we care for and who cares for us makes our lives. For care read love, read a shift of two letters, read life.

As an intellectual - and I wonder at the shiver that the use of such a word sends up the collective spine of the Western world, unless you happen to live in France - as I say, as an intellectual, as someone who is fascinated by thought, by the ideas that motivate us all whether we like it or not, are aware or not, I find the doing very difficult.

My ambition is great; my ability feeble.

I read the crabbit's blog, Nichola Morgan, who seemingly lives her life in whirl of writing, lecturing, chocolate and pointy shoes; I follow Caroline Smailes blog and her young man, Gary, who has set up what appears to be a very successful, first-aid emergency service to wannabe writers and wonder. I was like them. I used to be a doer.

Now I am less than sure where my arse is from my elbow. I used to be absolutely positive one was the object I sat on, the other I leant on; now, who knows. Such intermindableness breeds the same. I am no longer confident in what I say.

I need to write. Artists of every description, of any talent, are sensitive to the lack of logic of life. It is an inhibition. Yet how can one assert a point of view if one is less than certain any has any value?

Last night, I dug out all the sketches I have made over the last few years and was surprised how some still resonated. They were few but still made a point. Creating is a process that is very hit and miss. I, of course, want to hit. And, I suppose, the culmination of this thought is doing. To do is to do. Only by doing can we fail and thereby learn.

Back to novel two. Novel three, the one I really want to write, needs loads of research.

The image of the bug is for Kingsdowner. It and his/her relatives have recently been invading my and Sue's property and I hope he'll be able to identify it.


Kingsdowner said...

This must be really bugging you hehehehe :->

The critter in question is probably a squash bug, but which one I couldn't say. Probably lethal. I've sent a request to a better man than I.

One of the blogs that I occasionally visit is by a chap from Shoreham who covers the Mill Hill area, and his site shows a few such bugs:

Re vegetarians etc, we've been so inclined for about 25 years, but would eat home-grown meal without problem - it's the factory farming that we hate.

DOT said...

You are so right… it's bite is leeee…

Kingsdowner said...

The oracle has spoken:

My money would be on Leptoglossus occidentalis-Western Conifer Seed Bug .
Another case of the Yanks over here , as it's home is the Pacific coast of USA . It spread East across USA , reached Europe (Italy)
in 1999 , and has been found here since 2007/8 . Apparently it causes a lot of problems for the timber industry .

I hope this helps! He doesn;t say whether it is deadly, though.

DOT said...

And I have been chatting to it in French, when all I need have said was, 'Have a good day, 'y hear!'

DOT said...

Oh! and thanks mucho for your efforts, Kingsdowner. Isn't the Internet wonderful for providing information?

Girl On The Run said...

excuse me, you are the bug person, my home was a strictly non bug zone until you smuggled it in up your jumper.