My inner sheep-dog is troubled. By troubled I mean unsettled, discombobulated and partaking of a personal worry-fest. Am I the only human to possess an inner sheep-dog? Surely not. Sheep dog - the keen dog that rounds up its little flock, coaxes it into a safe pen, then guards it fiercely. 'Over protective' possibly springs to mind but wouldn't be strictly accurate - this sheep-dog is happy to let it's lambs stray, but worries if they wander too far, or into activities that the sheep-dog may not consider 100% safe. I suspect most mothers are sheep-dogs. Or do you need to be both mother and in possession of an over-active imagination? Currently, this sheep-dog's concern is that snow, plus slopes, plus planks attached to feet, equals potential hazard. Or many, many, many potential hazards. Skiing like sailing has been spoilt for me by having children. Instinct tells me that I have a duty to get to the end of the day without breaking anything or drownin...
Stories and musings on life composed while walking the dog. Plus the odd rant.