It’s just weeks now until the new season of Doctor Who starts, so they’re playing the adverts for it.

I’m not looking forward to it. I hate this new Doctor and all the crappy storylines he’s brought with him. 

He’s no fun to watch. He’s just grumpy all the time and even Clara turned into a character I no longer respected. All that lying. And Missy? Are you kidding me? You really thought that would fly? People sat in a room and patted themselves on the back over all this crap? Blech.

They’ve taken the heart out of the show along with the humour. And even the Doctor’s fierceness is gone because he’s just a cantankerous old ass. 

I want my Timey Wimey. I want a northern accent wrapped in a leather jacket. I want 3D glasses and a long coat. I even want a ridiculous bow tie. Where’s the sense of wonder and excitement? The laughter and the making up as we go along? The fierce protection for what is right? Because this Doctor has none of that. 

Bring back the sense of fun.

At this point I’m hoping for a speedy regeneration and the writers to pull their heads out of their asses. 

Too bad we can’t go back in time and fix it.


I can look away when they want me to feed starving children in another country. I want the government to take responsibility for the starving children in this country. If we could do that, then we could donate elsewhere with a clear conscience. 

But I cannot stop helping animals. Yes, my house is full. But there are so many that need help, and so few willing to take steps to save them. 

I believe animals have souls as much as we do. They can feel and are just as individual as all of us. They have been treated as nothing more than meat for far too long. I’m ashamed I ever ate them, for I could never have killed them myself. But maybe that’s part of why I’m so dedicated now to saving them. 

I rescued an old dog from the brink of death once only to have that dog kill my bird. I have a dog now that is determined that I don’t get to keep my carpet. It’s not all rainbows and unicorns. It’s cleaning up an awful lot of potty in the house while they learn the rules the previous owner neglected to enforce. 

But the work and struggle aren’t the important part. My house is full of love. That is important. These animals give love constantly with no guarantee that they will get anything in return. They just give. And there is so much joy. Everyday I wake up surrounded by love with a pack of animals all trying to love on me at once. There’s nothing else like it.

Consider a rescue. Or two. Donate if you can. Volunteer at a local shelter or wildlife sanctuary. It’s so rewarding for you as well as those you help. A definite win-win situation. 

We’ve always been accused as anthropomorphising animals- giving them the human characteristics we wish them to have, but don’t actually possess. I argue that that is wrong. They do have feelings and emotions and moods. Pretending continually that they don’t, is a convenient way to justify how we treat them. We have to reevaluate our treatment- our disdain- of animals. They are a gift to us. Not to be used as test subjects or abused. We should be in a partnership with them. If we could all work together, the possibilities would be limitless.

New growth

It’s always so inspiring to see enthusiastic new growth. This orchid stem is growing by leaps and bounds day by day. It was just this little off-shoot and now look at it! I can’t wait until it blooms. More gifts from nature. 

Spirit Dancer


She’s stunning. She’s drawn by Brian Froud, and part of a Faery Oracle deck. There are many gorgeous paintings- he is one of my favourites- but she sings to me. Which is ironic in that that she stands for creative expression. 

Though perhaps that’s not ironic at all. 

I’m going to start singing again. Possibly a short weekly podcast? Maybe Patreon? Any suggestions? I’m still playing with ideas. But it’s coming soon. 

Spirit Dancer wouldn’t have it any other way. 


So I’m at dog class with my dogs and the classroom is right next to where they do the grooming. It’s loud and there’s a dog that’s sad and won’t stop barking and the radio’s on. 

And then I hear a groomer singing to her dog she’s working on. Not even the song that’s on the radio. 

When was the last time you sang a silly song at work just for the joy of what you’re doing?

Finding that joy is a challenge.

Challenge accepted. 

I love this poem!!!

Dust of Snow

Robert Frost1874 – 1963

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.