It seems like only yesterday – wait, it was only yesterday, in Martian days. That extra 39 minutes and 35 seconds simply flew by. Well, it seems like only yesterday that I, too, needed the extra heft of a meditation garden to see me through lunch. And now, here are Tim and Darren, similarly situated. I don’t think it’s a vegan garden, but I guess that’s something to chew on over the BBQ.
A quick meditation practice for all you wannabe breathabees: Count to 7 while inhaling. Hold for a few seconds short of bursting a vessel in your forehead. Exhale while counting to 7 and imagine the rainbow as you do it if you wish. Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue Indigo, Violet. Yes, I get the Indigo and Violet mixed up, too, but then cats are colour-blind – what’s your excuse, cobber?
I know, but I like tiny houses of almost any kind. I’m a cat, what can I say? We love small, snuggly places that can also relocate quickly when a family of canines moves in next door.
What do you think of the tiny house revolution, friends? Want one? Envious of Peter and Daphne? Don’t worry, they’re about to find out what owning two very hungry equine types involves, especially in terms of, shall we say, clean up! Good luck with that when you don’t have a litter-box big enough – hahahaha – ha! Constant tiny house movement, that’s the ticket.
Old toys, new toys, we all love ’em all, whatever their age, whatever their state. I have a Teddy Bear – they’re named after Theodore Roosevelt, you know – who was passed down to me by my brother. Actually, to be truthful, my brother didn’t so much pass Teddy down to me as throw him out of his cot in fright. He really didn’t like the ursine furball. But I did, and do, and we are often to be seen snuggling on a cold Martian night, searching for Earth in the evening sky. Even more often, though, we are searching for that wretch of a takeaway delivery hound with our Honeyed Tuna Melt Bites.
It is also suggested that Theodore ‘Teddy’ Roosevelt said this: Start where you are, use what you have, do what you can. It will be enough. Try it out next time you are suffering in extremis and see if it helps. I think it will, friends and grasshoppers. You can only do what you can do, Honeyed Tuna Melt Bites notwithstanding.
Yes, I know, but Smiley McSmileface is not related to Moai McMoaiface, except for the face bit, and the Scottish connection. You try coming up with names for every single person who passes your Martian door and see how you go, pal.
All right, tantrum over, let us hope with all our hearts that the future is indeed one where politicians do all those things Smiley The Deluded mentioned – hahahahahahhaha – I find myself typing hahahahahhaha more and more frequently these days – it must stop, and the tuna must flow – preferably downhill and onto my loving and receptive lips (of which I have none, or none that you can detect – the whiskers tend to get in the way). Go in peace now, and search for an honest politician – I dare you…
Park benches are not widely seen here on Mars, though reminiscing certainly is. We all wonder about our next trip off-world, as it were. And then we realise how lucky we are to be here away from the maddening crowds of pollies, and bullies, and liars and baying hounds (that last one is for the feline among us). And we calm down, make a nice cup of tea, and spread some anchovette over a few crackers for afternoon tea. You’re welcome to the recipe – phone 1800-FISH-A-RAMA.
The Moai are one of my favourite mysteries of the world – if only we had some here on Mars – or maybe we do – cue thrilling music with a little vibrato. Well, I suppose there’s a lot of information about them, and mystery may be stretching it a little. But one has to wonder why the esteemed sculptors kept making the great big heads when all around them was going to hell, not to mention treeless, foodless, and tuna-less. Ordering pizza was not an option.
On the plus side, we still have nearly 900 of the gigantic beauties to ponder over and admire. They’re monoliths, you know, and were responsible for thriving physiotherapy businesses on Rapa Nui (not a true fact, but perhaps an alternative fact – hahahahahaha).
You know, of course, that the Crusaders could be rather nasty types, given to wholesale bloodshed with the excuse of serving their masters, the Popes, and accumulating indulgences to keep them out of trouble in this world and the next. Silly boys! They would have done better had they learned a bit more about how to layer and honey a nice baklava, or the many lovely accompaniments to pita bread and felafel. Maybe next time.