i found it in a bin

and lots of people think this very likely,

“Oh little Sionnat has obviously been taken by the fairies and they’ve left us a Changeling Child who knows too much, and asks strange questions, and uses words she shouldn’t know, and watches everything with her big dark eyes, clearly a Fairy Child and not a Human Like Us.”

The Myth of the Changeling child, a human baby apparently replaced at a young age by a toddler who “suddenly” acts “strange and fey” is an almost textbook depiction of autistic children.

To this day, “autism warrior mommies” talk about autism “stealing” their “sweet normal child” and have this idea of “getting their real baby back” which (in the face of modern science)  indicates how the human psyche actually does deal with finding out their kid acts unlike what they expected.

But here’s the thing: life is louder, brighter and more intense and confusing than it has ever been. I live on the edge of London and I rarely go into the centre of town because it’s too overwhelming. If I went back in time and lived on a farm somewhere, would anyone even notice there was anything odd about me? No police sirens, no crowded streets that go on for miles and miles, no flickery electric lights. Working on a farm has a clear routine. I’d be a badass at spinning cloth or churning butter because I find endless repetition soothing rather than boring.

CBC made a good documentary on adult ADHD and part of it really caught me off guard because i swear they repeated verbatim my life story for the past 3 years

full programme here:

My ADHD manifested in piles of homework left undone until the last possible minute, while I stared at them, thinking; “I want to get these done. I understand the theory. It would take 10 minutes. I want to start, why can’t I start?” 

My ADHD manifested in fantastic reading comprehension - nigh impenetrable focus on interesting topics the first time I’m reading about them. 

My ADHD manifested in a complete inability to focus on reviews or re-reads, mind skittering sideways and away whenever anything was boring or repetitive. I sat down to study, my books open, my eyes on the text, and my brain clawing its way out the back of my head to focus on something else - anything else. Focus, focus! [No.]

My ADHD manifested in Articulating wings half-finished but still beautiful, in beautiful lineart and half-hearted coloring. In stories written passionately for days until I forgot it existed and never returned. In projects started and forgotten and started and forgotten a thousand times until my bins of project supplies piled up and my bank account shriveled down. No, it will be different this time - I LOVE this new thing. This new thing is my world, my destiny, my Everything. I CREATE and CREATE and CREATE and never FINISH. 

My ADHD manifested in confusion and surprise as time slithered away, hours passing like minutes and minutes seeming endless by contrast. An inability to gauge how much time had passed, was left, a task would take. An inability to hold dates in my head, because time didn’t feel consistent or even real.

‘Spring Ritual’ Embroidery by Turkish textile artist Irem Yazici

The explanation, 1952, Rene Magritte

Size: 35x46 cm

There are an estimated 140,000 miles of footpaths in England and Wales, public rights of way that cut across all manner of private land, and due to various quirks of history they have never been fully mapped.

It’s been 19 years since an Act in Parliament set a deadline of Jan 1, 2026 to map every footpath, and after that, footpaths that are not mapped can be reabsorbed into the private lands they cross, ending ancient rights of way.

The Ramblers, a hiking society with radical roots that fomented the creation of the nation’s national parks, are leading the charge to complete the maps, through the Don’t Lose Your Way campaign.

While many of the footpaths they’re struggling to save have simply been forgotten, others have been deliberately obscured, often by farmers who want to keep strangers from crossing their fields, and resort to trickery like misleading signs and barbed wire to obfuscate the footpaths.

I’ve spent many happy hours rambling, mostly in Norfolk, where all the paths we took were well-marked, well-loved and well-maintained. The footpaths are a visible remnant of the ancient compact between private landowners and the common people, embodied in such documents as the Charter of the Forest, a much more important and radical document than the Magna Carta.