Rainbow whips out her crackers.

As you may know, my personal trainer, Sebastian, has a delightful sister named Rainbow. The west coast has many people named by well intentioned hippy parents, that have grown up to be very unlike their free wheeling parents. 

While Rainbow is decidedly whimsical and likely in line with what her parents expected, not all my acquaintances are so well named. For example, Rainbow is a yoga teacher and perfectly qualified, being both gluten free and lactose intolerant. However, another friend of mine was blessed with the name ‘Swallow’ by her parents. If the swallow really is the bird of love, then one would hardly expect a corrections officer working in a high security prison to carry such a name and yet that is indeed where she has had a quite successful career.

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Auntie Kittie’s Diary – 2020-06-13

I have always felt that the more time my nephews spend dressed in lovely girls clothes the more they behave in a polite, soft and gentle manner.  Isn’t that a nice thing to know? Of course it is.

Well, recently one of my nephews has had a visitor, young Donald, a really quite vulgar boy.  He seems to think it ok to push others around and one of my nieces recently came to see me about him. Annette told me he had been peeking in her bedroom when she was changing, which I found a most distasteful thing to do.  He’s also been picking on some of the other children in the neighbourhood.He also refuses to wear a mask, which I find extremely disrespectful. I am sure you’d agree, this is really not the way a young boy should behave.

“If he’s unwilling to behave like a nice boy,” I said to Annette, “then we can’t treat him like a nice boy.”

I thought about the situation for a moment or two, while offering Annette a small serving of frozen yoghurt.

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Time to take out the trash.

Generally I find approaching things with an open mind is a good idea. Sebastian, my personal trainer, has suggested I take the same approach when working on my legs.

This morning I was walking on the beach and noticed some litter in the dunes. It was just some detritus left by a parent, likely overwhelmed by their excitable kids. Nothing to really be upset about.  I picked it up and disposed of it in a litter bin not far away.

I would have forgotten the incident entirely but for something that happened later in the day. I’d finished the days work and took Hannibal, my dachshund for his walk, and as I made my way through one of our beautiful parks I noticed a young woman with a handwritten sign on her back picking up litter. She had a stick and a garbage bag and was working her way through a number of the people enjoying the summer evening. As I got closer to the young woman I noticed the sign on her back read “Volunteer” in hastily scrawled hand.

I was curious and so walked up to the lady and asked, “what’s the story?”

She replied very politely that lives nearby and she walks in the park every day, and doesn’t like seeing litter left around.  She’d noticed that if she comes out now and then and picks up the litter now and then the people in the park notice her and start to clean up after themselves.

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