Fifty-three: Thank God for Snuffles

Here she is, my first painting of her.
Snuffles is my granddog (as I don't have any grandchildren).
We were teaching in Kuwait at the time. She was for sale (aged 3 months) because she was being hurt by the 18 month old son of her owner. She had been brought over from Thailand, to Kuwait, along with a Rottweiler.
The moment I set eyes on her I fell deeply and irrevocably in love, and had to have her.
She is a Shih Tsu, weighs only 4.8 kgs and has the sweetest nature I've ever known in a dog.
She's fast asleep on the sofa with a contented, postitivelysublime smile on her face.
I think I'll let this 'sleeping dog lie'!

Tangent: The blues (IF)

I lived and worked in Kuwait for 4 years, and saw some amazing mosques. never a blue one, but I painted this while we were there, as they sometimes shimmer in a blue way in the heat.

Living in London now, I sometimes see it as a 'blue' place, from the cold haze which settles over the city in Winter.

Hot, or cold, it's all in the 'eye of the beholder'.

IF: the blues

Tangent: Friends, old and new

Me and Rayna - South Africa - December 1984





Being an Aquarian, which is known as the 'friendship' sign of the zodiac, I find it very easy to make friends. Or should I say, I seem to 'collect' people who consider themselves my friends, like others collect stamps or theatre programmes.

Everyone is drawn to my cheery nature, my enthusiasm, my youthfulness and my energy (their words, not mine), as well as my 'always there for you' personality. I am a real chatterbox who loves the odd bit of gossip; okay, okay, I love the whole bit of gossip.

Mostly, I suppose, I rely on the 'when you laugh, the whole world laughs with you, when you cry, you cry alone!' principle, and this makes me a people magnet, specially those who need to cry and cry and cry. They get some sort of internal message that I provide a good 'shoulder' for anyone and everyone.

But as far as considering them my friends, there are very very few.

My 'old' friends are not those old in age, but in longevity of friendship. I met Priscilla (who I've mentioned before) when I was 4 and she 5. They lived in the house behind us and it was 'like' at first sight, and 55 years later, we are still very much 'in like' with each other.

My other dear friend, Rayna, who I met at 20, is still my dear friend after 40 years. I shared a flat with her the year I started teaching and we used to talk and giggle late into the night. We have recently re-connected after many years, and it's the same as back in 1969.

Nowadays I seem to be drawn to the younger generation, making friends with Christine in Kuwait, she at 30, me at nearly 50, and now I have a new 'best' friend, Lorraine, she at 30, me at nearly 60.

I find it exceedingly hard to keep 'floating' acquaintances for too long. They are linked to me usually by rather a weak, common link, e.g. work, or an art course or a short holiday meeting. But, when I do make a true friend, it is for life.

Maybe it's because most of us live continents apart from each other, that we have remained friends.

My definition of a good friend is:
someone who is as interested in me, as I am in her.
someone who says she cares about me and means it.
someone I feel I could ring in the middle of the night if I were in trouble and she would drop everything and come.

So, here's to you, Cilla, Rayna, Chris and Bev! Quality, not quantity!




Me and Rayna - London - December 2006

Tangent: hives

No, not the bloody bee sort.

The itchy, sore ,'tear your skin' off sort.

The 'but I'm not a gardener' sort.

Interestingly enough, it reminds me of a type of depression mixed with irritation, angst and fear that I've experienced once or twice in the distant past, but thankfully not for many years now.

When I drew this, yes I did, we were teaching in Kuwait in 2001 before the second Gulf War, and I was in the throes of a wild, mad, off the Richter scale meenie meno (menopause) and life was throwing me curved balls left, right and centre.

The past week, having developed a severe case of hives, I went hunting for this bit of wierd art that I had somehow produced.

We were doing an 'after school' bit of training all about using art effectively in the classroom and we were playing with stamping,linos, blocking, pressing etc etc and given free choice to create any picture we wanted to.

I was totally flabbergasted at what came out of me and I mean this truly. Everyone around me was twittering around making pretty little daisies and twiddly dee sort of stuff and there I was hammering away at this monstrosity.

The mental 'hives' were eating away at me and I had to express it right there and then. Not looking right or left, up or down I just beavered on and on and on. I don't even remember doing it, something just took over.

Wow , did I feel satiated and even post-orgasmic when I got this one out. Whew, what a relief. I slept better that night than I had in months. When I look back on that day, I realise that the man who was demonstrating all these techniques to us, had left me alone and not come over to talk to me once, or if he had, I hadn't noticed.

I am not about to rush upstairs and create a masterpiece like that, but will rather sit here and scratch.

I dedicate this drawing to all of you who read 'prozacville', as this is probably how lots of you feel without your flouxetine.

Aah,maybe that's why I haven't felt quite this mad since, it's dose loverly pills floating inside me keeping my serotonin levels in check.

Tangent: Children's art

This was a drawing done of me in the playground at a school in Kuwait by a seven year old girl in the Summer of 2000. I get a warm fuzzy feeling every time I look at it. What pure innocence. What clear vision. What inescapable beauty. Not because it's me, but the love and fun shines right through. The sandals, so simply drawn, the hat perched on top of the curl short hair, the long dangly earrings, the glasses, the cheery wave all depict me- how I look physically, but also my feelings about my precious profession, teaching.

This was a drawing done of me with Snuffles, who I took to school to meet the kids one day, 'show and tell' all about 'How to care for your pets'

Remi (6) fell in love with Snuffles and drew us walking her to the park. Again the pure simplicity, the colours, the sweetness and the happiness are so apparent.

The other day Remi drew this for me at home, showing her and Harshini, her best friend in the class, actually her best friend in the whole wide world(evident in their posture) with me looking less rotund but having all the qualities of the very first picture done 7 years before.

Last Thursday we did a lesson about 'Same and Difference' and the children had to draw my TA (teaching assistant) and me and then write 5 ways that we are the same and 5 ways that we are different. These were three of them, and we couldn't stop laughing.

You certainly see which one is me, and even catch a glimpse of the pink hair in one of them. Yes,the sandals, the earrings, the glasses, the short hair are all still there, but mostly the quality and purity, the freshness and simplicity, the perfection, absolute sublime perfection.

Surely these rival Picasso any day.

Only wish I could see the world through their eyes.

What you think bridgemor?

Eight: Brag more about my 'granddog'

Snuffles, as you can see, is the most beautiful, cutest, wondrous, affectionate, gorgeous, loving little 'granddog' that anyone could ever be blessed with.

I know, I know, we all love your pets, specially the snake in the back shed and the crocodile in the bath. But Snuffles has an unusual history which I'll briefly tell you about and then I intend to brag some more.

We were teaching in Kuwait six years ago when I saw a picture of the sweetest little puppy stuck on a tatty piece of paper on a tatty notice board in the local supermarket, with a tatty phone number beside it.

What can I say? It was love at first sight; utter, blinding, overwhelming, breathtaking love. Never in all my (nearly) 60 years have I fallen so quickly. I didn't know her breed, if she even had one, I didn't know what her nature would be like, or what to expect after only having kept bulldogs before. Bulldogs are another one of my passions.

I rang the number and a man with very broken English told me that he had got 2 dogs from Thailand, one a rottweiler and one a 'small dog'. He informed me that his small children were hurting the 'small dog', but I suspect he wanted to get rid of her because he would've preferred another rottweiler.

We arranged to meet the next day in the supermarket's car park, exchanging car colours for recognition.

After waiting 30 minutes,we had almost given up, when he arrived and, there sitting on the back seat was this bundle of love, pure absolute love. I can't say anything else except that I was smitten, gone, completely gone!

After a bit of haggling we bought her there and then and took her straight to the vet, who informed us that she might be a shih tzu and also that she had a blood disease and may not last the next few days. Oh no, my heart was broken. How could this be happening? After just one hour with her in my life, I felt bereft.

He started treating her and within a few days she was completely well. Don't quite know what happened to the blood disease, but there you are, he performed a miracle on her ........

She was everything a naughty puppy should be, but delightful, with instant cartloads of pleasure.

The following year, when the Iraq war broke out,teachers were urged to leave, but couldn't take their pets with them. What a huge calamity. What were we to do with Snuffs?We spent more time worrying and discussing her than any other problem we might face if we left.

One of the Sri Lankan cleaning ladies at school heard about our predicament and offered to look after her, which we accepted very thankfully. She promptly moved in for eight weeks and bonded with our Snuffs just as we had. Without her help, we would have had to get rid of our precious 'child' as we no one knew what the outcome of the war would be.

That was an awful time for us, but soon we were reunited. The following year we decided to return to the UK.

We sent her to do her quarantine in France with some friends of ours, and when she entered the UK our reunion was better than any you might see in a Hollywood tear jerker.

It was hilarious the first time we took her to a park here, as she had never stepped on grass before. She was a real desert dog, sand , sand and more sand.

After six years my love for her is as strong if not stronger than it was then. She and I have an incredibly close bond and she is my shadow.

She is the happiest, most contented little soul that I have ever had the pleasure to share my life with and if I were ever reincarnated I would love to come back as Snuffles, providing I could have me as her owner.