
Breaking news: upturned dinosaur claw discovered in the woods this morning!
What treasures will you discover this weekend?

Breaking news: upturned dinosaur claw discovered in the woods this morning!
What treasures will you discover this weekend?
Summer was a time for early morning reading outside with bird song, sunshine, a cup of coffee and a dog. Now that darkness and cool air have moved in, my reading time seems to have dwindled. Well, I guess that having to work might have something to do with it too…
And read I did. Lots of books – big thick ones the height of fluffy pillows and the weight of small elephants. And Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts is no exception. In fact, this was probably the longest book of the summer with its 920 pages or so!

I’d resisted the pull of the book for ages as I’m allergic to screaming headings like ‘A publishing phenomenon’ or ‘A remarkable achievement’. Or even ‘A literary masterpiece … it has the grit and pace of a thriller’. (Thanks Daily Telegraph!)
But then I started reading it – and realized that, for me, all of the above comments were true. The book is the fictionalized life of the author and reads like James Bond meets Indian philosopher. The protagonist, Lin (or Roberts’ alter ego if you like) is one of Australia’s most wanted men (in the 1980s): he escapes from a high-security prison there and ends up in Bombay. Where he sets up a free health clinic in a slum, works for the mafia, gets tortured in jail and learns Hindi and Marathi. And that’s just for starters. (Apparently Roberts really did do all of these things.)
The book begins like this:
“It took me a long time and most of the world to learn what I know about love and fate and the choices we make, but the heart of it came to me in an instant, while I was chained to a wall and being tortured. I realised, somehow, through the screaming of my mind, that even in that shackled, bloody helplessness, I was still free: free to hate the men who were torturing me, or to forgive them. It doesn’t sound like much, I know. But in the flinch and bite of the chain, when it’s all you’ve got, that freedom is an universe of possibility. And the choice you make between hating and forgiving, can become the story of your life.”
Apart from the high-octane pace of the prose, the book is lyrical, poetical and spiritual. He sees beyond the squalor and poverty to the soul of the Indian people, whom he portrays with love; he ponders about his own personality and how imprisonment can turn men into monsters; he philosophizes on the nature of good and evil; and amidst the violence and sadness, also reveals the beauty of life. Because, as he says, “Every human heartbeat is a universe of possibilities.”
I walked down a leafy forgotten path when I suddenly spied some boats washed up on the shore. Colours fading, lying there overlooked…
… like cast-offs or children’s toys loved and then left.

It struck me that – sometimes – boats are like people.
We might neglect them; only see the outer shell of flaking paint; forget how once those colours glowed and how they carried us across troubled waters.

What do you see when you look at that boat, that person?
Neglected, abandoned; the beauty gone? Or can you go beyond that to see the jewel that is still there, the beauty and serenity?
Look deep, my friends – because what you really see is your own reflection.
For more perspectives of the world we live in, please visit: That’s My World!
As I was looking through some recent photos, I noticed that our dog Oscar often had his nose buried in the ground.

What was he looking for? Exciting smells, traces of rabbits or just enjoying the feel of the cool dirt on his nose?

Head down, examining roots and leaves. What is he searching for?

Ah – at last! Is it the ball he has found – or autumn itself?
For more inquisitive pets, please visit: Pet Pride.
Don’t know about you, but this is my kind of guy…

… Especially if they are chocolate cakes!
Have a spooktacular Halloween – if you celebrate it.
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Not my pumpkin, I’m afraid – but one the Internet carved in between pushing bytes here and there.
And with this costume, I’m sure you’ll have a bowl! (Geddit? Bad joke…)
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Because not everyone wants to get dressed up as a pumpkin or a monster this year…
American TV programmes are very educational … it seems.
Cue: the anklebiters are role-playing an episode of Hannah Montana, where Dolly Parton plays the grandmother.
They are using walkie-talkies. #1 is upstairs and #2 downstairs.
#1: Crackle! Buzz! Shock! The walkie-talkies don’t work, but that doesn’t stop the kids from shouting to each other.
#2 – my son (listening intently): NO! I don’t want your fizzy balls.
Pause
I’ve got my own!
Pause
#1: But grandma’s fizzy balls are even better!
Thanks Dolly for that! Bath bombs will never be the same again in this household… As someone once said about America and Britain: We are divided by our common language.
Have you ever wondered what the snail does inside its house?
Does it store its dreams and hopes there? Does it keep its love inside delicately striped shell?
Does it withdraw inside itself when cold winds blow? And is it a safe place in which to withstand the assaults of time and life?

We too build up our defenses, our houses to protect ourselves.
And just like the snail, our shells are delicate – easily crushed by an action or a careless word.
In your next encounter with snail or person, take a moment to cherish the beauty and complexity of the lovely shells we all carry.
For more animal encounters, please visit: Pet Pride!
A couple of weeks ago, I brought to your notice – in the form of stairs being transformed into piano keys – a new theory called The Fun Theory, which investigates how making something more enjoyable can change behaviour for the better.
Take littering, for example. How many times have you seen someone just carelessly throwing away wrappers on the ground even when there is a litter bin nearby? Is it possible to make people actually want to pick up litter just because the bin makes a sound? Can it really be that simple?
Apparently – the answer is yes.
And although the novelty might wear off in a few weeks, perhaps this could be solved by having a number of random noises coming from the bin. And, in the long run, this might be enough to change our patterns of behaviour.
I hope so – because anything else would be… well … rubbish!
Just imagine that you are at one of those shelters I talked about last week. Drinking your hot chocolate, warming your hands by the fire, gazing out over the water.
And, if you happen to be our dog, then nothing - not the greyness of the sky nor the cold temperatures – will stop you from enjoying the moment.

For more great captures, please visit: That’s My World!