About Me

Friday, 28 October 2011

The last day of the half-term

A cold sunny day. Across the road a magpie perches on chimney top and I mentally prepare my self for a funeral, where I will see aunties, cousins and maybe an uncle I've not seen in years, as well my father and his wife who have travelled from Kent and are due to arrive any time.

I hope it won't be too bleak but my uncle died during an operation, apparently a procedure went wrong and precipitated a heart attack. One of my cousins has had to fly in from Spain where she lives. It'll be lovely to see her but it's a shame that we only get together in such circumstances. I'm hoping eccentric aunt E will be there. But not looking forward to witnessing my other Aunt E's grief at losing her husband.

Thursday, 27 October 2011

A bit of literary, another funeral and why ' try not be nasty' is excellent advice

Went to London where I saw a play and accidentally got involved with the Bloomsbury arts/literary festival in the Persephone bookshop. It was very nice to talk about 'lost voices', eat scones with jam and cream and drink tea. Back home again, I have another funeral to attend - it's getting a bit scary: intimations of mortality is putting it mildly.

I think I've got the autumn glums. Or more likely it's my age. Descent into the menopause is a bit shit really. I have been feeling creaky since  I slipped and pulled a muscle in my leg.   Writing schemes of work doesn't help. Whoever thought up the idea of schemes of work was clearly a masochist. It has to be the most boring chore, even ironing becomes an attractive alternative.

Thank goodness for BBC radio I-Player. Yesterday I caught up with Sunday's Desert Island Discs with Mark Gatiss and what a lovely chap he seemed: funny, sensitive and thoughtful. After losing his mother and sister in quick succession, his advice was, given the nature of this existence and the suddenness of death/tragedy, we should avoid nasty, hurtful behaviour. Afterwards I rang my mother to whom I'd been superior and bitchy the evening before. Nowhere does my tendency to combine aspects of  a grumpy old woman and a nasty teenage surface more than it does when I'm with my mother. Next time I get frustrated over her desire to be loved and wanted and prattle on about the family, just as I've settled down to watch some nonsense on TV, and take sadistic pleasure in pointing out the holes in her thinking, I'll try and remember his advice.

Wednesday, 12 October 2011

The 'F' word

Stephen Fry's programme on language is a blinder. This week's dealt with taboo words, euphemisms* and swearing. Good to know there's lots of scientific evidence that nothing works as well as the 'F' word when you miss the bus, bang your thumb with a hammer and are sick to the back teeth of the petty and not so petty annoyances of everyday life.

Now I know why I get cross when foul mouthed teenage girls are..err..foul mouthed on the bus, when I can  swear like a trooper in the staff room. Context is all it seems. Which is probably why my darling still insists in pointing out that swearing doesn't become me after I've downed three glasses of wine on night in the pub with a few friends.

Taboo to you too.

*Still smiling at the extract from 'Round the Horne' where Julian (or was it Sandy?) from the Universal Party ('we come from the left, the right and the centre') delights in 'shaking hands with the honourable member.'

Friday, 7 October 2011

The seasons they come....

My friend's son's funeral was sad but also uplifting in a way. I've never been to a funeral with military honours and it was very moving.

Meanwhile, work is good right now and autumn is gathering momentum. This morning there was a scattering deep of red leaves on the pavement. The depth of the red was startling. The woman from the hairdressers - where I had my hair dyed autumn colours this afternoon - said the unexpected heat wave is predicted to generate a beautiful autumn. I hope so.The evening sky is starting to take on a sweeping magnificence and as I write these words I realise that my blog is becoming cyclic..celebrating the seasons once again.