Thursday, walking around Wells, pleased to be away from my tiny holiday town, battling against the wind, trying to keep skirt dignified, whislt determining if any of the shops in Wells are worth looking in or if I should go straight to the Cathedral and look around, I was approached by Save-the-Children. Not the actual thing mind, but some enthused ‘young people’, who pretend to be interested in what you do and where you are and whatever, before mercilessly guilting you into giving them money. Normally I avoid their penetrating eyes and shuffle off, guilt personified, starving children giving me puppy dog stares and dropping like flies in my head.

Once, walking down Cuba st in Wellington (NZ), I was attacked by a Yogi head who got my attention my staring at me and saying ‘don’t those heels hurt your feet?’. I was feeling good natured so I told her no, they were amazing lovely things and I was very comfortable. She battered me with questions and drilled me with her eyes and then hypnotised me into buying a Buddha bible. I don’t know what happened; normally I escape. I went to visit Hazel and she expressed vague interest in the Yoga-Bible, so I gave it to her, for ‘Christmas’.

Back to Wells. This time was different, I was the owner (?) of a debit card, it was totally within my means to donate £7 a month, even if it does dent my income pretty significantly. So I gave in to the agressive pamphlet wielders, and gave them my details.

However unlike freaky Yogi huge-forehead girl in Wellington, I walked away with much more of a sense of achievement. I am Laura, contributor to charity, I use public transport, use very little power/plastic etc, and i recycle. Even if all of that is, well, simply my situation. No car, no money to buy plastic and paper, power is expensive here. GO me. I actually fit in rather well with my ideals.

The way I try to look at the whole environmental thing brings me to a small story about a lovely boy I met at Awaroa, Joe. It was very cold in the bush in winter, and each of our small rooms had an oil heater in it. This was set on a thermostat and I would turn mine up nice and high on chilly nights. Every now and then the power would decide to cut out for some reason, leaving us very cold when we got up in the morning. It was a favourite alibi of mine for why I was late every morning to work. It was a favourite lunch topic to complain to each other about the power outage, and how we all froze. However Joe was never affected, because he didn’t use his heater.
‘WHY?!’ said I, aghast. I thought he was insane.
he replied something to this effect: ‘Well, I’m not going to freeze, and I’m not really likely to notice, it just means you have to snuggle a bit and make a cosy nest, and be in pain for about 2 minutes in the morning when you drag yourself out of bed. I don’t need the heat. It’s just a wee bit of energy I don’t really need.’
To which I mumbled general disagreement, still feeling the sting of one morning of devastating cold. But that basic philosophy stuck with me, and now I try to do the same.

And now, to balance out the cleanness of that post, I leave you with really, really ridiculous tattoos.

 Enjoy. http://pipeline.refinery29.com/the_goods/team_refinery_tattoos_our_favo.php thanks to Nubbytwiglet for the link!