Accept the person, reject the behaviour, how many times have I told myself that? I think one of my lessons in this life is to learn how to deal with selfish people. People who don’t understand the concept of conversation, the taking of turns. You know how you bump into someone who you know, and you’re quite pleased to see them, so you ask how they are? You listen for ten minutes, realise you’re late for something and say goodbye. Then you realise that whoever it is hasn’t asked a single thing about you.
Or the ones who get in touch when they have troubles, knowing you’re a good listener. You go round, let them cry on your shoulder, until they feel better, but you’re totally drained. Then don’t hear from them for months.
Do we all have these people in our lives? Or is it just me? Perhaps it’s my role.
I’ve been ranting today. For the first time ever I wrote to the local newspaper. I’m not a write to the paper type and in fact it isn’t a letter. Since the newspaper became weekly instead of daily, it’s main focus has shifted to the website, where there is the opportunity to submit an article. I doubted that they would publish it. I don’tknow their criteria but lo and behold they did – complete with typos. In fact it’s visible twice because I thought it had disappeared and so I posted it a second time, with most mistakes corrected. One lingers though, the very first word!http://www.thisisexeter.co.uk/City-s-Shame/story-17911321-detail/story.html
From my office desk I see the evergreens a quarter of a kilometre away; they are peppered with naked orange branches of their deciduous family and gulls retreating from the coast. In the foreground I can see the low roof of the hospice next door, but nothing more except the white sky that foretells snow.
It arrives, a horizontal mix of flake, sleet and rain landing slushily and washing itself away. Soon my vista changes and I get my first clear view of the Haldon hills; where earlier today the A38 and A380 were down to single lane traffic crawling in the wake of gritter trucks. Those hills and the ones to the North West are white and can only be distinguished from the sky by their own dark tree fringe.
It’s just a fleeting glimpse and soon the snow here becomes a fine drizzle followed by heavy rain, which obscures the view again. Hopefully that will be the end of it.
An eerie sound pervades
like the death scream
of a Dickensian marsh
the clanking of chain
a dog torturing squeal
a relentless flap of flag
against a hundred masts
in the wintering yard
Today, I’m mindful
of those who really need
to feel confident and secure
to be able to fulfil their role
but often just aren’t
I’m going to try to tread carefully
and remember that I have been in that place
I’m going to remember
that I was lucky enough
to know it could be different
Coughing my way home
A slightly strange stone today, nevertheless it was the observation of a possiblity of change for me. I have asthma. It was diagnosed around ten years ago, after many, many years of coughing! It isn’t severe, just irritating and must drive other people crazy. Sometimes in public places people will come up and offer me a glass of water, when I haven’t even registered that I’m coughing.
I have inhalers of course, but if I use them as prescribed I get a sore throat and oral thrush. So it’s a fine balance. There are quite a few things that trigger a coughing fit; aerosols, some perfumes, dust, things that have a bad smell, pollen, too much dairy etc, etc. I try to avoid exposure when I can.
A change in temperature, like leaving a warm place to go out in winter, is a real pain, especially when I rush to leave work each day. You know how it is, the freedom after a long day and you just want to go home as quickly as possible!
Recently I’ve tried a simple breathing exercise when I leave. It’s just inhaling through my nose and then exhaling through pursed lips – it’s supposed to slow breathing down. It works for about 200 metres and then I lose it. So today I invented my own version, breath in slowly through my nose (and very cold air hits me), then breath out through pursed lips – but in two stages – it slows me down more. I also walked a little slower than usual, so the walk took 20 minutes instead of fifteen.
Guess what? I made it home without a single cough. I’m hoping it isn’t a fluke, the next few days will tell.
Her silver wheel shimmers in
Deep indigo sky
group rise fly
glide decide turn
circle descend return
I’ve just been out with the dogs and along the way I noticed an elderly lady in front of me. She made me think about luck, health and loneliness. Her clothes were an outlandish mix of brightly patterned leggings, old lady sandals and astrakan coat. Just as I caught up with he,r she stopped a young woman and asked her if she would pull her shopping trolley up to the traffic lights at the junction. I paused a second and caught her eye, eyes with those drawn on eyebrows and bright red lips, but she ignored me. She probably wasn’t as old as I had thought, but she was razzled and had a cigarette dangling. The young woman talked to her so I carried on, wondering if she got the help she needed.
Around the next corner was my lovely old man, https://lucidgypsy.wordpress.com/2012/03/19/a-contrast-of-elderly-men/ chatting to a van driver. It’s been a couple of weeks since I saw him, so I was relieved and asked how he was. He assured me he was fine and turned to the van driver saying ‘Hers boodiful’, I laughed and tutted at him and carried on. My last encounter was with another really quite old lady, with her dog, who stopped to talk to Daisy and Dido. I’ve seen her before, but only exchanged Good mornings. Today she wanted to chat so we started with the weather. She had a walking stick and told me how she woke on Christmas day, in agony with her knee. She is having knee cap replacement surgery on Tuesday coming and was quite anxious. I tried to reassure her with stories of friends who had similar work done and said I’d see her in a couple of months good as new. Brave lady, I hope she makes a good recovery.
These lovely people make me so aware of how isolated the elderly can be, but I really enjoy talking to them and I know it makes such a huge difference to their lives. They may not have as many opportunities for chatting as I do – or as you do! If you come across people who may be glad of a smile and hello, I hope you will. We will all be old one day, if we’re lucky.