My friend from work Skype'd me today to say my OU stuff had arrived and she'd drop it in after work; good timing as I needed cheering up and she is just the person for that.
Well she arrived just after 5 o/c bearing a heavy cardboard box (a different story), then proceeded to make us both a cup of tea, do my washing up, hoover the hall and the sitting room, put the bin bags out, and take Django for a walk in the park.... but in a lovely friend way, not an "I'm taking control of you" way.
Not only that but she provides very good Cheer Up Hugs.
I felt humbled.
Wednesday, 15 September 2010
Shorts 2: GBT Therapy
This morning is showing the promise of a perfect GBT Therapy day... Grass Between the Toes.
I mentioned in a previous post how this was one of my new favourite pleasures: walking barefoot around the garden feeling the grass on the soles of my feet and between my toes. I discovered when I did it yesterday that it is not nearly as pleasurable on dry grass; today there is a heavy dew and I know the grass will still be damp this afternoon, which is when I prefer to do my GBT Therapy.. I'm looking forward to it already!
I mentioned in a previous post how this was one of my new favourite pleasures: walking barefoot around the garden feeling the grass on the soles of my feet and between my toes. I discovered when I did it yesterday that it is not nearly as pleasurable on dry grass; today there is a heavy dew and I know the grass will still be damp this afternoon, which is when I prefer to do my GBT Therapy.. I'm looking forward to it already!
Shorts 1: Earthworms
While rubbing Bio-oil onto one of my scars this morning, it struck me that it looked comically like a Common Earthworm.
In fact it feels like one too.. or at least how I imagine one would feel if you stroked a Common Earthworm (I'm not in the habit...).
In fact it feels like one too.. or at least how I imagine one would feel if you stroked a Common Earthworm (I'm not in the habit...).
Tuesday, 14 September 2010
Down time
I am feeling a little blue tonight, and I have no doubt that I will be told that it's because I'm overdoing it... how much physical and mental energy goes into mending a badly broken bone? it doesn't seem logical that it should affect my brain but it does.
The rest of this post as originally written sounded downright miserable and that's not how I want to sound.
I shall write more when I'm feeling more energetic....!
The rest of this post as originally written sounded downright miserable and that's not how I want to sound.
I shall write more when I'm feeling more energetic....!
Sunday, 12 September 2010
The problem with HAY
Twice in the last few days I have seen someone I know in the local supermarket, and hidden from them.
One of them is an old school friend, who Mr H and I briefly renewed acquaintance with 4 or 5 years ago but it has since lapsed again; she was shopping with her young son and I instructed my best friend, who was wheeling me round the aisles, to try and avoid bumping into her.
The second was a man I knew from the sailing club but who I hadn't seen for at least 3 years; he was in front of us at the checkout so I kept my head down under peak of my cap and hoped that he didn't see/recognise me. I was with Mr H at the time but didn't mention it because I thought he might do one of those stage whispers "Which man? Oh, THAT one" and stare straight at him.
Even had I not been unexpectedly in a wheelchair I probably would not have made the effort to talk to either of them, since I have nothing in common with either; I would have exchanged pleasantries and feigned being in a hurry (though tricky when you're behind them in a queue, admittedly). These are the people who fall neither into the Friend group or the Complete Stranger group; they are acquaintances who know you to say hello but that's about it because neither of you have any interest in the other. I will call them the HAY group which stands for "How are you?" because that is the limit of conversation.
In my current situation, if at all possible I try to avoid catching the eye of people in my HAY group because I know that I will have to face the "Oh-my-god-what-happened-to-you?!?!" question. I don't get the OMGWHTY question with my proper friends, because they know the story; and I don't get it with complete strangers who only need 5 simple words if they ask anything at all: broken leg; car crash; June.
But the HAY group want to know everything - when, where, oh-my-god, how, why, how did it feel, oh-my-god, how are you now, and the favourite question : "HOW LONG BEFORE YOU'RE BETTER?"... I just don't want to go through it all.
And that last, favourite question will undoubtedly be the subject of another blog entry coming to your screens soon.. and no, it won't answer the question!
One of them is an old school friend, who Mr H and I briefly renewed acquaintance with 4 or 5 years ago but it has since lapsed again; she was shopping with her young son and I instructed my best friend, who was wheeling me round the aisles, to try and avoid bumping into her.
The second was a man I knew from the sailing club but who I hadn't seen for at least 3 years; he was in front of us at the checkout so I kept my head down under peak of my cap and hoped that he didn't see/recognise me. I was with Mr H at the time but didn't mention it because I thought he might do one of those stage whispers "Which man? Oh, THAT one" and stare straight at him.
One of the sometimes advantageous characteristics of a wheelchair is that it renders the person in it temporarily invisible.
Even had I not been unexpectedly in a wheelchair I probably would not have made the effort to talk to either of them, since I have nothing in common with either; I would have exchanged pleasantries and feigned being in a hurry (though tricky when you're behind them in a queue, admittedly). These are the people who fall neither into the Friend group or the Complete Stranger group; they are acquaintances who know you to say hello but that's about it because neither of you have any interest in the other. I will call them the HAY group which stands for "How are you?" because that is the limit of conversation.
In my current situation, if at all possible I try to avoid catching the eye of people in my HAY group because I know that I will have to face the "Oh-my-god-what-happened-to-you?!?!" question. I don't get the OMGWHTY question with my proper friends, because they know the story; and I don't get it with complete strangers who only need 5 simple words if they ask anything at all: broken leg; car crash; June.
But the HAY group want to know everything - when, where, oh-my-god, how, why, how did it feel, oh-my-god, how are you now, and the favourite question : "HOW LONG BEFORE YOU'RE BETTER?"... I just don't want to go through it all.
And that last, favourite question will undoubtedly be the subject of another blog entry coming to your screens soon.. and no, it won't answer the question!
Reflection
Carmi Levy, over on Written Inc. blog, runs a Thematic Photograph 'audience participation' thing and this week's is 'Reflection'.
Here is my offering, which those of you who read my blog regularly will know has a story behind it :
This is me.... the crutches are because I had my femur broken in a car crash while we were driving our VW Transporter at the end of June. I am reflected in the side of our replacement Transporter, which from the outside looks virtually identical to the first one, the first time I saw it; so while I was inspecting it I was no doubt reflecting on the events that had led me to that point....
Here is my offering, which those of you who read my blog regularly will know has a story behind it :
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Saturday, 11 September 2010
What's a debacle?
Earlier today, Mr H. and I had occasion to exclaim "What a debacle!!"
What a great word it was, we agreed; I said it must stem from the french, obviously. Now we always use it in the sense of 'what a shambles / palaver', or that type of thing; but now I've looked it up it means nothing of the sort....
It actually means:
1 (a) an utter defeat or failure,
(b) a sudder collapse or downfall
2 a confused rush or rout; a stampede
3 (a) a break up of ice in a river, with resultant flooding,
(b) a sudden rush of water carrying along blocks of stone and other debris
It does indeed stem from the french débacler - to unbar.
Now I would hazard a guess that if you used the word 'debacle' as any of those meanings, you would get a strange look; maybe one day I shall have occasion to talk about a defeat, stampede or river in spate in which case I will feel very superior!
What a great word it was, we agreed; I said it must stem from the french, obviously. Now we always use it in the sense of 'what a shambles / palaver', or that type of thing; but now I've looked it up it means nothing of the sort....
It actually means:
1 (a) an utter defeat or failure,
(b) a sudder collapse or downfall
2 a confused rush or rout; a stampede
3 (a) a break up of ice in a river, with resultant flooding,
(b) a sudden rush of water carrying along blocks of stone and other debris
It does indeed stem from the french débacler - to unbar.
Now I would hazard a guess that if you used the word 'debacle' as any of those meanings, you would get a strange look; maybe one day I shall have occasion to talk about a defeat, stampede or river in spate in which case I will feel very superior!
Friday, 10 September 2010
The Complete Maus
It started with this status by a teacher friend on Facebook: "Have I lent someone my copy of Maus? (comic strip book about the holocaust...) Can't find it in the book case."
Well, I thought, that sounds interesting - you don't often see 'comic' and 'holocaust' in the same sentence. As is my wont, I had to investigate so off I went to my best friend Amazon to check it out.
It is what it said on the packet, a comic strip layout true story about the author's Jewish father's life from the mid-1930s through the war, including being sent to Auschwitz. The story is being told to Art Spiegelman, the author, and includes the dialogue between father and son as he tells him the story. The Jews are portrayed as mice, the non-Jewish Poles as pigs and the Germans as cats; showing them as animals rather than humans really adds to the effect of the book.
I'm only half way through it, but for anyone who likes a fascinating read in a pictorial layout, I'd definitely recommend it.
MAUS on Amazon UK
Well, I thought, that sounds interesting - you don't often see 'comic' and 'holocaust' in the same sentence. As is my wont, I had to investigate so off I went to my best friend Amazon to check it out.
It is what it said on the packet, a comic strip layout true story about the author's Jewish father's life from the mid-1930s through the war, including being sent to Auschwitz. The story is being told to Art Spiegelman, the author, and includes the dialogue between father and son as he tells him the story. The Jews are portrayed as mice, the non-Jewish Poles as pigs and the Germans as cats; showing them as animals rather than humans really adds to the effect of the book.
I'm only half way through it, but for anyone who likes a fascinating read in a pictorial layout, I'd definitely recommend it.
MAUS on Amazon UK
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