DP Challenge
Where do your morals come from — your family? Your faith? Your philosophical worldview? How do you deal with those who don’t share them, or derive them from a different source?
The source – my Mother.
The means – a question and a comment.
The question -“How would you like it if someone did that to you?”
The comment – “When you start using your fists, you’ve stopped using your brain.”
Think about it.
I did.
It covers a multitude.
My Mother was a wise woman.
On a bleak grey mountaintop at the edge of the world there lived a badger. To his friends he was known as Coley the Snuffler. That was his name. Coley the Snuffler liked his name because it described him very well. He loved roots and grubs and he could snuffle them out better than any other badger around. In fact he was so good he was quite round, even for a badger. But he didn’t mind.
“All the more for you to love” he’d say and waddle off, chuckling to himself. His friends chuckled also, for they loved Coley very much indeed.
Coley’s best friend in the whole wide world was Daisy. He was very pleased to have such a beautiful little flower as a friend and he minded her well. She was, after all, much smaller and far more delicate than him. With his soft warm coat he sheltered her from the cold winds that gusted down the rocky slopes of his home. With his broad grey nose he pushed pebbles around her to protect her slender stem. With his great wide feet he dug up the richest loam on the hillside and placed it at her roots to nourish her and with his great grey bulk he stood, like a wall, between her and any strange animals that chanced to pass that way in case they crushed her. At night when Coley rested between snuffles he sat beside Daisy and gazed at her beauty. Though asleep Daisy would feel the great heat radiating from him. It was so pleasant she’d uncurl her little petals to bask in his warmth. And they talked. They talked as only true friends can, heedless of the glances of passing animals who thought they were a most peculiar sight indeed.
“Ready with the yoghurt?”
“Yep – smells funny though”.
“Don’t worry – we’re not eating it.”
” Miranda’s looking good”
“Yep did something with her hair. Funny shade of blonde now.”
“Sure is. Is that cooked? Looks a bit red in the middle. Did you heat the oven?”
“I did what it said on the packet. Jeez – my back is killing me.”
“Forget your back dude, there’s a hair on the lettuce – I can see it from here. You’re moulting.”
“No I’m not.”
“It’s the beard you know – it never really grew on you bro – just hangs on for dear life.”
“Oh yea – says you – there’s more hair on an egg than you have in your entire body.”
“Funny! I’m laughing on the inside. Dude – seriously – something smells funny.”
“That might have been me.”
“Gross – we’re dealing with food here.”
“Sorry. I had a swig of that yellow stuff in the cup – thought it was iced coffee. It’s kicking in.”
“Mikey you lameass – what were you thinking! It looks like mustard – probably something for cleaning sinks man!”
“How would I know? She’s always feeding me all sorts of wierd c…”
“Jeez dude – just stand downwind of me and stop bending over. I’ll finish.”
“No way bro – if she sees you touch this plate she’ll think you did it all.”
“That might be a good thing – if it tastes as bad as it looks.”
“Remind me to help you out sometime.”
“Joking bro – so far so good, she’s loving the uniforms.”
The Burren and Beyond 