I got an email the other day from an old friend Down Under. Pat lives in Queensland, Australia, spending part of his time enjoying the peace and quiet on the veranda of the Kalkadoon Hotel in the quiet Outback town of Kajabbi.
He’s a wordsmith of some repute, and an Internet entrepreneur through and through, with a half-dozen websites to his name. He sent me along a guestpost, and said if I was interested in running it, to feel free.
I’m interested. In fact, I hope I can convince Pat to grace Ramblings with his presence on a regular basis. Did I mention, he’s also a Madman of the first order?
Operator’s Guide for Janet
by Pat Davis
Never confine her to the house, she is a free spirit meant to be living in a world of rescued puppy dogs and cats caught in a tree.
She is content paddling naked on some floating thing, down a wild river with her eyes searching for the grassy bank that she has never seen before, or a tree where she can frolic amongst the fallen leaves.
Confined to a home she will want to polish it, and when she cannot make it shine she will turn bitter and sour.
She does not need a home, she merely needs a place to shelter should the breeze turn cold when she feels sleepy. A tent, a blanket, any temporary dwelling that she can cast aside when the morning sun speaks to her the way it does. A hat, a coat, a shawl to keep her warm is all she ever needs, with someone to turn to and say “Did you see that ” or “can you feel it”.
She does not require copious amounts of food but it should always be strange or weird in some way, she will happily accept the last slice of stale bread if it is served on a mountain top where she can look upon the clouds below.
She lives best a little hungry, never let her squat and indulge for more than a few days or she will once again get the urge to clean and polish and once again when she cannot make it shine she will turn bitter and sour.
She needs to dance, you might catch her skipping in a supermarket or twirling at a bus station with her hands held high like a ballerina in a pirouette . . . just smile at her if she finds you looking. . . she never frolics without your company.
Never give her anything but freedom, or she will be overcome with the desire to polish it, and when she cannot make it shine she will turn bitter and sour.
She needs to give her total self, always be close enough to be there when she needs to give. If you are not there she will polish your absence until it shines, and she might not see you when you return. . .