The Caterpillar

"You!" said the Caterpillar, contemptuously. "Who are you?"
Alice replied, rather shyly, "I - I hardly know, sir, just at present - at least I know who I WAS when I got up this morning but I think I must have been changed several times since then."

(Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll.)

So, in the absence of large and somewhat aggressively opinionated caterpillars, I shall ask - 'Who are YOU?' Actually, I have been asking myself the same, so don't take it personally, will you? I am mostly challenging myself, but feel free to join in with your thoughts about yourself, too. If you feel so inclined.

For a start, I've decided you cannot say, 'I am me.' That is a cheat and cop out, and if you have said that, you can jolly well go to the back of the queue. Nor are you Sparticus, before some smart arse up the back starts being clever. My immediate thoughts, then, were these, 'I am all of these things - wife/mother/daughter/sister/grandmother/aunt/cousin/friend/colleague/cat protector and defender of chickens, even idiot cockerels like Magnus and Tootsie.' But that is no good, because that defines me in relation to other people. It suggests that I am the associated property of others. Is that a tad too feminist? It wasn't meant to be.

So then I thought of myself in terms of things I do - writer, gardener (currently lapsed, but Spring is springing so watch this space), sewer (as in creating using needle and thread and not as in big drain removing poo, pee, mucky washing water - besides which we are on a septic tank here so no sewer required), listener to troubles and woes, maker of cakes and damn fine ginger biscuits, housecleaner, knitter, seeker of shopping bargains....

...but that is no good because that just has me down as an occupation. Let's not even get started on the association with cleaning out cat litter trays on a regular basis.

I could say that I am Denise, but even that doesn't feel right because I have never really liked my name and I would like to choose another. My name brings to mind the story about a woman who gave birth to twins and because she was tired and confined to bed she asked her brother to go and register their names. When the brother returned she asked what names he had chosen for the twins. 'Well,' said he, 'I called the girl Denise.'

'And the boy?' said his sister.

'Denephew,' said her brother.

How about emotions then? Could one define oneself depending on how one generally feels. I am happy! I am grumpy. I am sarcastic. I am ambivalent. Hmmmmm....I think not.

For a while I played around with being symbolic. If I was a bird, I would be a hawk - converse from afar and we'll get on fine and I'll even watch your back with my acute vision, but provoke me and I'll be using my talons at will. If I was a food I would be Marmite - best taken in small doses or blended with lots of butter to lessen the taste. A flower? Probably a daisy - nothing fancy, what you see is what you get, will leave deep roots in your lawn that nothing can destroy (which could be a good thing, could be bad. Ooo-er). A country? Some small and inaccessible island off the coast of somewhere vague in whatitsnameland. A fruit? Raspberry. Generally sweet - might get irritating pips stuck between your teeth. A colour? That's easy - burgundy red, if only to annoy my mother! So that sort of works, if only that some of the answers were a surprise to me.

Basically, at this point in discovering my Wonderland I don't really know who I am. Luckily it is still too early in the season for caterpillars to be giving me grief and hopefully, by the time they arrive, I shall be ready with some more substantial answers.