OK - so I've been (still are) ill and because it's resulted in loss of sleep (pain) and having some middle of the night hours waiting for more pain-killing pills to take effect and thus having time to tap away on a laptop (non-writing posts etc.) - I have indulged myself.
I think it's high time that I showed what I am made of. I can write. I want to write.
Just a departure for a second ... my french doors are open and I can hear an owl very close-by - how wonderful ... My cat just went out for a walk around - hopefully it's not a cat-eating barn owl!
- Back to the above ... writing.
So tonight (early hours of Sunday morning as again [I] am wide awake, having awoken at around 1 a.m., as now typical, and in some pain and stiffness and having got up, made our usual darjeeling tea, seated at the laptop again) - I am going to write a short story off-the-cuff, live and right now. (Oh that's good - cat back in - no barn owl claw marks, no mouse in his mouth - as sometimes happens.)
I'll post the story as a simple post later tonight (this morning). Bear in mind when reading it that it is off-the-cuff and unedited - just as an experiment. Luckily I have the use of both hands (and all fingers for typing) again although as ever my left arm hurts so that may inhibit the length of this story.
Here goes ...
Sunday, 26 August 2018
Saturday, 25 August 2018
Visitors flock to see STILT SANDPIPER at Frampton Marsh
All you need to know is at the BBC Lincolnshire website here.
Friendship (No 1 - thus indicating that there could be more posts - but maybe not)
I hinted at doing a post on this delicate subject - so here I go 'in at the deep end' as usual (with this touchy subject that will no doubt have me drowned in no time).
Friends (my attempt at a definition - what do I think friends ought to be?):
The following is my ideal top ten attributes ...
Some friend experiences (all 10 are accurate and all anonymous):
Here is the Wiki definition. It's an interesting word which of course derives from women that spun wool (and stayed at home doing that and gradually the word became associated with unmarried women). It tends to be used in a slightly derogatory way - meaning that the woman concerned may be 'unmarriageable' or in some way 'on the shelf' as is often used as an expression today. In addition the friend I refer to above has indeed been married (not once) and as far as I know was once widowed and once divorced - so one might conclude that when I use that term spinster that I may be misusing the word but I actually spoke to her about it and she is not offended. Good for her.
The above (bulleted list) is true and is a foray into a selection, not all, of our friends. My wife is not a happy bunny at all with this type of post. I am. She wants it vetted. It won't be. - Not being a chauvinist (I'm not) - just being assertive. This is my blog.
Of course there are some ex-friends too - people that let you down, disappoint you or even worse.
What kind of friend am I?
Well, I'd like to think that I would be all and more of the above attributes that I would seek in a friend.
Finally - my wife (and this is not her blog - it's mine) has said that she wants a disclaimer put that these comments (she probably means the entire blog) are mine and not hers. She for example wanted to say that one above mentioned friend (a joint friend) is probably her best friend whereas I have (as it is my blog not my wife's) indicated that another person(s) are higher up the friend 'pecking order' so to speak (but actually the scenario is a little confusing as each of the contenders for 'best friend' are rather clouded in that one is more a friend of mine and one is more a friend of my wife's) although we carry on rather as though all are our joint friends - confusing ....
I have just got a friend (right now and here) - doesn't matter which one - and my wife - to both read this latest post and they both say that I (it) will cause offence - well that won't be the first time - nor the last no doubt. It seems to me that honesty is not as high up the ladder of importance with some people (or most people perhaps) as it is with me. I am uninhibitedly honest - that may include lack of diplomacy but as far as I am concerned the above information contained in this blog is A) HONEST and B) anonymous - i.e. no friend's name appears - it may be vaguely possible for some friends to have a go at identifying other friends but that will be pure speculation on their part. At least they're all friends - although my wife might speculate that they won't be for long, once they read the blog. What I say is this - is any of what I have put untrue? No of course it isn't. Is anyone identified? No. Note that not all our friends know each other either and nobody should assume that we discuss our friends much anyway with anyone. I don't see why I should be made to feel guilty at posting a factual account of friends. Yes my approach to stuff may be unusual and very open but personally I think that the world would be a better place with more honesty and openness.
The friend, incidentally that just read this post (about friends) and whom I told where that person was in the list - well that person (male or female) suggested that I give some fictitious stuff so as nobody could identify themselves - sorry but that is fraudulent, dishonest and not my style at all. This blog is about honesty - not deception. If one cannot be honest in one's own blog - might as well not bother with a blog - if it's all a lie.
I well recall a friend (who as far as I am concerned is no longer a friend and whom is unlikely to be given a link to this blog anyway - well not by me) who keeps contacting me or us from time to time and clearly is blissfully unaware why we (or I at least) have no further contact with as to what caused the fall-out. It's this:
A) She boasted to us one day (by way of trumping us on our anecdote that I had discussed about how we had been awarded £100 [compensation] by negotiation as the company we had dealt with failed to process an investment satisfactorily). Her trumping boast was this:
She said that she had bought cheaply a pair of designer shoes in a charity shop, wore them for a while and when they became shoddy-looking she went in to a shop within the designer shoe group and claimed that these shoes that she had bought from the designer group (a lie of course - she's bought them in a charity shop) had failed in some way and that she should be given a full refund but she'd lost the receipt. They in the end agreed to give her a £10 voucher. I call that fraud. I also find it disgusting that items bought at a charity shop (to assist a charity) are then used fraudulently to try to gain a full refund at the manufacturer's retail outlet. To me this is all-round disgusting behaviour but to her she was proud of her enterprise and initiative and tried to use it as a trumping story over my (boast I suppose) of my £100 negotiated settlement in a genuine case of a company exercising maladministration.
B) she's in the habit of wheedling out one's personal information which I suspect is then circulated amongst local people. She is aware of a particular local woman that I do not get along with, but frequently I see her gossipping to that woman in the street, so, much as there are aspects of this former friend that I am tempted to offer sympathy with, I have to draw a line under our former friendship as she really isn't my kind of person. Whether she'll ever see this blog I don't know but if she does she'll see why we are no longer friends.
Family? ...
... Well that's another story and would take more than a post or twenty - how long have you got?
The following is my ideal top ten attributes ...
- Friendly.
- Wise and mature (meaning that if you have a disagreement they will not let it affect the friendship).
- Genuine - not two-faced - what you see is what you get.
- Thoughtful.
- Going the extra mile - putting themselves out a bit to help the friend (me in this example).
- Able to talk about all subjects.
- Able to be emotional without self-consciousness.
- Able to drop by at any time (and reciprocating).
- Comfortable hugging.
- Consistent - not all over the place (hot & cold, up and down).
Some friend experiences (all 10 are accurate and all anonymous):
- Had (no have I should say) one who wanted to borrow a large sum of money and she stated that if I declined we would still be friends. I declined and we are (just about - any difficulties were not related to the potential loan issue).
- Have one (well a whole family really) but regarding him - he's zany, like me very outspoken, satirical, very funny, very direct and it doesn't matter that we see him (or the family) once every year or so - he and they are always the same - welcoming, friendly, genuine and refreshingly piss-taking (with a smile).
- Have one that offered a large sum of money - if we ever needed it. We likewise have offered that to her too and she did have a recent circumstance where she may have needed it - didn't in the end.. We have little ups and downs here and there but our three-way friendship has lasted for years and long may that continue.
- Got two rather older than us friends that are up there in terms of what I would say are our most genuine and reliable (and very kind).
- Got a really good mate who I would think would do anything that he thought I needed in terms of help. We are also very much on the same wavelength and intellectually but socially we are very different. I like people - he's not bothered.
- Got another on and off mate and we often argue about stuff and fall out, then we're OK again.
- Got two friends (a couple) that are reliably genuine and we see each other fairly often - both socially and for practical things.
- Got a fairly long-term female friend who is a confirmed post-marriage, post-widowhood, post divorce spinster # who like us is into equestrianism (ah ha - you're thinking - this one will be easily identified).
- Met a couple in a pub - like us are music fans - he seemed intellectually stimulating, she just pleasant. Had a meal each at each others homes - then met at a gig and he was a changed weird person - being very 'standoffish' and saying "we'll get our own drinks" and acting as though they didn't want to sit with us. - A mystery - needless to say we are only on nodding acquaintance now.
- Got two fellow music fans we see every month or so. Consistent. Good company. We are on totally different wavelengths politically but we get by.
Here is the Wiki definition. It's an interesting word which of course derives from women that spun wool (and stayed at home doing that and gradually the word became associated with unmarried women). It tends to be used in a slightly derogatory way - meaning that the woman concerned may be 'unmarriageable' or in some way 'on the shelf' as is often used as an expression today. In addition the friend I refer to above has indeed been married (not once) and as far as I know was once widowed and once divorced - so one might conclude that when I use that term spinster that I may be misusing the word but I actually spoke to her about it and she is not offended. Good for her.
The above (bulleted list) is true and is a foray into a selection, not all, of our friends. My wife is not a happy bunny at all with this type of post. I am. She wants it vetted. It won't be. - Not being a chauvinist (I'm not) - just being assertive. This is my blog.
Of course there are some ex-friends too - people that let you down, disappoint you or even worse.
What kind of friend am I?
Well, I'd like to think that I would be all and more of the above attributes that I would seek in a friend.
Finally - my wife (and this is not her blog - it's mine) has said that she wants a disclaimer put that these comments (she probably means the entire blog) are mine and not hers. She for example wanted to say that one above mentioned friend (a joint friend) is probably her best friend whereas I have (as it is my blog not my wife's) indicated that another person(s) are higher up the friend 'pecking order' so to speak (but actually the scenario is a little confusing as each of the contenders for 'best friend' are rather clouded in that one is more a friend of mine and one is more a friend of my wife's) although we carry on rather as though all are our joint friends - confusing ....
I have just got a friend (right now and here) - doesn't matter which one - and my wife - to both read this latest post and they both say that I (it) will cause offence - well that won't be the first time - nor the last no doubt. It seems to me that honesty is not as high up the ladder of importance with some people (or most people perhaps) as it is with me. I am uninhibitedly honest - that may include lack of diplomacy but as far as I am concerned the above information contained in this blog is A) HONEST and B) anonymous - i.e. no friend's name appears - it may be vaguely possible for some friends to have a go at identifying other friends but that will be pure speculation on their part. At least they're all friends - although my wife might speculate that they won't be for long, once they read the blog. What I say is this - is any of what I have put untrue? No of course it isn't. Is anyone identified? No. Note that not all our friends know each other either and nobody should assume that we discuss our friends much anyway with anyone. I don't see why I should be made to feel guilty at posting a factual account of friends. Yes my approach to stuff may be unusual and very open but personally I think that the world would be a better place with more honesty and openness.
The friend, incidentally that just read this post (about friends) and whom I told where that person was in the list - well that person (male or female) suggested that I give some fictitious stuff so as nobody could identify themselves - sorry but that is fraudulent, dishonest and not my style at all. This blog is about honesty - not deception. If one cannot be honest in one's own blog - might as well not bother with a blog - if it's all a lie.
I well recall a friend (who as far as I am concerned is no longer a friend and whom is unlikely to be given a link to this blog anyway - well not by me) who keeps contacting me or us from time to time and clearly is blissfully unaware why we (or I at least) have no further contact with as to what caused the fall-out. It's this:
A) She boasted to us one day (by way of trumping us on our anecdote that I had discussed about how we had been awarded £100 [compensation] by negotiation as the company we had dealt with failed to process an investment satisfactorily). Her trumping boast was this:
She said that she had bought cheaply a pair of designer shoes in a charity shop, wore them for a while and when they became shoddy-looking she went in to a shop within the designer shoe group and claimed that these shoes that she had bought from the designer group (a lie of course - she's bought them in a charity shop) had failed in some way and that she should be given a full refund but she'd lost the receipt. They in the end agreed to give her a £10 voucher. I call that fraud. I also find it disgusting that items bought at a charity shop (to assist a charity) are then used fraudulently to try to gain a full refund at the manufacturer's retail outlet. To me this is all-round disgusting behaviour but to her she was proud of her enterprise and initiative and tried to use it as a trumping story over my (boast I suppose) of my £100 negotiated settlement in a genuine case of a company exercising maladministration.
B) she's in the habit of wheedling out one's personal information which I suspect is then circulated amongst local people. She is aware of a particular local woman that I do not get along with, but frequently I see her gossipping to that woman in the street, so, much as there are aspects of this former friend that I am tempted to offer sympathy with, I have to draw a line under our former friendship as she really isn't my kind of person. Whether she'll ever see this blog I don't know but if she does she'll see why we are no longer friends.
Family? ...
... Well that's another story and would take more than a post or twenty - how long have you got?
Slowly the NHS wheels of intervention turn ...
Yesterday morning I had the long awaited Doctor appointment at my usual surgery.
She was generous enough to give me twice the standard ten minute slot but still I felt that it was very tight time-wise to discuss all the issues that affect my worsening health situation.
Of course, when I make statements like that "my worsening health situation" I think about all the people who are far worse off than me. I have only lost the use of one limb (my left arm) and my pain is mostly being sufficiently dampened using a co-codamol (sorry spelling probably a bit off there) type drug that I have to remember to take at the maximum level which is 8 tablets per 24 hours (so two are taken roughly every six hours) which means at midnight, 6 a.m., 12 noon, 6 p.m. I am 'on the pill', daily. I top up if needed with morphine.
Frankly, from my point of view, I feel that dealing with the relevant facts, medically, through my doctor, is like wading through mud. I never feel that she is on quite the same wavelength as me. My wife who accompanied me into the appointment thought she was OK - so I want that point to be made too. The missing ingredient for me was - empathy - maybe even a little sympathy too. I did not feel that we connected. I felt as though I was a commodity - a number - just passing through the system. That does not mean that there would be much more that the doctor could do - given the NHS today - but I just do not feel that matters are progressing satisfactorily.
I have friends who are almost begging me to 'go private'. I raised this possibility with her yesterday and she stated that nothing would be any faster at the present juncture. We will re-visit that possibility in a week or so after I have had my steroid injection(s) and my doctor wants me to feed back how I get on with that.
This blog is supposed to be about my writing! - Don't laugh!
I have ended-up with all these no doubt (to any reader) boring accounts of my health! The reason I am writing about my health (and tonight - well this a.m. I am doing it two handed - which is better than the last few posts) is because I wake every night with a degree of pain despite the pills. Last night we slept apart as my wife was exhausted and I disturb her. Just now (this night) she was selfless enough and missing me enough to sleep with me - so I have crept around as quietly as possible and who knows if she is asleep or not? I hope so - but I bet she wakes as I return to bed in an hour or so when it'll be about 3 a.m.
We normally lead a fairly sociable life but I have, very unusually for me, drawn-in the strings of 'outgoingness' this last week as neither of us are well enough to handle our normal pace. In addition, jobs are piling-up at home - DIY stuff (that we always have on the go) and general tasks are more or less halted. We have quite a few friends but frankly very few are genuine and selfless enough to offer any help and most know about our present situation. I think people fear commitment ... in theory they might be OK with doing the odd thing for someone but they sure don't want to get caught with any longer term commitments!
Update 10 a.m. Saturday after this blog was published some hours before:
Had a call from a good friend this a.m. who had read my blog and he and his wife are coming over to help. That's borderline embarrassing as they certainly were not in any implied category of friends that have not offered help - these two (Ken & Wen) didn't even know anything was wrong! - So my casual comment on friendship may have back-fired or at least caused a reaction in the very people that ARE good friends! In addition my very good friend John Oliver is coming over sometime soon to chainsaw a tree trunk (after a fallen tree incident a few weeks ago).
Back to original blog post:
I think I may do a separate post about friendship ...
As for my own family, with the possible exception of one of my (grown-up) children they are completely unperturbed and disinterested in our lives generally, let alone any health or personal difficulties - so any caring from friends is as us Londoners might say - well-appreciated.
One of the reasons that my posting output has gone up is because I do not do Facebook and to a degree this blog can replace the personal contact that FB can offer and (so far at least) with none of the adverts.
After a few paragraphs of digression ...
Health-wise I am still without a firm diagnosis - why? Simple and dreadful really - the MRI that I had some week to 10 days ago is still not present on the NHS system and I am caught between who is lying and I cannot believe that it is the doctor. I have been definitely and categorically told that the results were emailed through from CARE UK but the doctor maintains that they have not got them and she said she checked before my appointment. It looks as though I have bursitis (see previous posts re what it is).
Yesterday I asked how long for a recovery - "How long's a piece of string" was the answer from the doctor. I mentioned (I think) in an earlier post that the radiologist let slip as she put it - "oh there's no cure for frozen shoulder". On The Web there are loads of 'cures' - you can view numerous YouTube and other videos claiming all sorts of miraculous cures (especially from America). I am unlikely to go for any of the 'spin'.
Well I am getting bored here - so you certainly will be. - Apologies.
She was generous enough to give me twice the standard ten minute slot but still I felt that it was very tight time-wise to discuss all the issues that affect my worsening health situation.
Of course, when I make statements like that "my worsening health situation" I think about all the people who are far worse off than me. I have only lost the use of one limb (my left arm) and my pain is mostly being sufficiently dampened using a co-codamol (sorry spelling probably a bit off there) type drug that I have to remember to take at the maximum level which is 8 tablets per 24 hours (so two are taken roughly every six hours) which means at midnight, 6 a.m., 12 noon, 6 p.m. I am 'on the pill', daily. I top up if needed with morphine.
Frankly, from my point of view, I feel that dealing with the relevant facts, medically, through my doctor, is like wading through mud. I never feel that she is on quite the same wavelength as me. My wife who accompanied me into the appointment thought she was OK - so I want that point to be made too. The missing ingredient for me was - empathy - maybe even a little sympathy too. I did not feel that we connected. I felt as though I was a commodity - a number - just passing through the system. That does not mean that there would be much more that the doctor could do - given the NHS today - but I just do not feel that matters are progressing satisfactorily.
I have friends who are almost begging me to 'go private'. I raised this possibility with her yesterday and she stated that nothing would be any faster at the present juncture. We will re-visit that possibility in a week or so after I have had my steroid injection(s) and my doctor wants me to feed back how I get on with that.
This blog is supposed to be about my writing! - Don't laugh!
I have ended-up with all these no doubt (to any reader) boring accounts of my health! The reason I am writing about my health (and tonight - well this a.m. I am doing it two handed - which is better than the last few posts) is because I wake every night with a degree of pain despite the pills. Last night we slept apart as my wife was exhausted and I disturb her. Just now (this night) she was selfless enough and missing me enough to sleep with me - so I have crept around as quietly as possible and who knows if she is asleep or not? I hope so - but I bet she wakes as I return to bed in an hour or so when it'll be about 3 a.m.
We normally lead a fairly sociable life but I have, very unusually for me, drawn-in the strings of 'outgoingness' this last week as neither of us are well enough to handle our normal pace. In addition, jobs are piling-up at home - DIY stuff (that we always have on the go) and general tasks are more or less halted. We have quite a few friends but frankly very few are genuine and selfless enough to offer any help and most know about our present situation. I think people fear commitment ... in theory they might be OK with doing the odd thing for someone but they sure don't want to get caught with any longer term commitments!
Update 10 a.m. Saturday after this blog was published some hours before:
Had a call from a good friend this a.m. who had read my blog and he and his wife are coming over to help. That's borderline embarrassing as they certainly were not in any implied category of friends that have not offered help - these two (Ken & Wen) didn't even know anything was wrong! - So my casual comment on friendship may have back-fired or at least caused a reaction in the very people that ARE good friends! In addition my very good friend John Oliver is coming over sometime soon to chainsaw a tree trunk (after a fallen tree incident a few weeks ago).
Back to original blog post:
I think I may do a separate post about friendship ...
As for my own family, with the possible exception of one of my (grown-up) children they are completely unperturbed and disinterested in our lives generally, let alone any health or personal difficulties - so any caring from friends is as us Londoners might say - well-appreciated.
One of the reasons that my posting output has gone up is because I do not do Facebook and to a degree this blog can replace the personal contact that FB can offer and (so far at least) with none of the adverts.
After a few paragraphs of digression ...
Health-wise I am still without a firm diagnosis - why? Simple and dreadful really - the MRI that I had some week to 10 days ago is still not present on the NHS system and I am caught between who is lying and I cannot believe that it is the doctor. I have been definitely and categorically told that the results were emailed through from CARE UK but the doctor maintains that they have not got them and she said she checked before my appointment. It looks as though I have bursitis (see previous posts re what it is).
Yesterday I asked how long for a recovery - "How long's a piece of string" was the answer from the doctor. I mentioned (I think) in an earlier post that the radiologist let slip as she put it - "oh there's no cure for frozen shoulder". On The Web there are loads of 'cures' - you can view numerous YouTube and other videos claiming all sorts of miraculous cures (especially from America). I am unlikely to go for any of the 'spin'.
Well I am getting bored here - so you certainly will be. - Apologies.
Friday, 24 August 2018
More of the same?
To be honest, I realise that it's a fib to say one finger typing as because I awkwardly use the shift key - I suppose this is vaguely two finger typing ... either way it's a real fag (no readers so far in USA so no worries about misinterpretations).
- Never mind "ban the burqa" - I say "ban the bursa". This thing called a bursa is a liquid-filled sac that lubricates joints like the elbow and shoulder. It is still looking like I have bursitis - here's some info - but my first post-MRI Dr appointment is this morning in a few hours - so I must try to return to bed and sleep but as ever I awoke at 2.30 a.m. in pain. What else is there to do but write over a cup of tea and toast whilst the pain subsides (although I cannot take more pills until six a.m. for fear of overdosing). I do have liquid morphine but I am resisting taking this except in the very worst case of pain.
How is bursitis treated one asks. This article makes suggestions that may involve steroid injections which frankly I am reticent about - but ask me again when the pain strikes and as the spy said - OK I'll agree to anything.
Yesterday was a long and fairly fraught day in Hull with Jane having to do all the driving at present. she's exhausted and not helped by my screaming out in pain just as we negotiated the south-facing approach to The Humber Bridge. What triggered this may be that I tried to use my right arm/hand to adjust my seat and all hell broke use with pain and cramping/spasm in my left arm again. Poor woman is at her wit's end.
Well, I hear you (reader/s) ... boring ... boring ... boring. Nobody is more bored with this fiasco than me - and maybe my wife, Jane. My life is totally on hold whilst daily tasks and the simplest things have to be 're-routed'. - Ever tried putting a dressing gown on with a sling in place and trying to maintain one's modesty at the same time by, one-handed, doing the pull cord up to keep the gown from flapping open? Teeth brushing, under arm hygiene, putting a belt on blah blah blah is all great fun (NOT).
Typing for an hour and just a few paragraphs produced - time to return to bed - but the bloody cat's not returned from his moonlit jaunt - he'll have to stay out and take his chances - he won't come when I call.
Wish me luck at 10.20 a.m. today at the G.P.'s!
- Never mind "ban the burqa" - I say "ban the bursa". This thing called a bursa is a liquid-filled sac that lubricates joints like the elbow and shoulder. It is still looking like I have bursitis - here's some info - but my first post-MRI Dr appointment is this morning in a few hours - so I must try to return to bed and sleep but as ever I awoke at 2.30 a.m. in pain. What else is there to do but write over a cup of tea and toast whilst the pain subsides (although I cannot take more pills until six a.m. for fear of overdosing). I do have liquid morphine but I am resisting taking this except in the very worst case of pain.
How is bursitis treated one asks. This article makes suggestions that may involve steroid injections which frankly I am reticent about - but ask me again when the pain strikes and as the spy said - OK I'll agree to anything.
Yesterday was a long and fairly fraught day in Hull with Jane having to do all the driving at present. she's exhausted and not helped by my screaming out in pain just as we negotiated the south-facing approach to The Humber Bridge. What triggered this may be that I tried to use my right arm/hand to adjust my seat and all hell broke use with pain and cramping/spasm in my left arm again. Poor woman is at her wit's end.
Well, I hear you (reader/s) ... boring ... boring ... boring. Nobody is more bored with this fiasco than me - and maybe my wife, Jane. My life is totally on hold whilst daily tasks and the simplest things have to be 're-routed'. - Ever tried putting a dressing gown on with a sling in place and trying to maintain one's modesty at the same time by, one-handed, doing the pull cord up to keep the gown from flapping open? Teeth brushing, under arm hygiene, putting a belt on blah blah blah is all great fun (NOT).
Typing for an hour and just a few paragraphs produced - time to return to bed - but the bloody cat's not returned from his moonlit jaunt - he'll have to stay out and take his chances - he won't come when I call.
Wish me luck at 10.20 a.m. today at the G.P.'s!
Thursday, 23 August 2018
Turning point or not?
- One finger slow and cumbersome typing again - unavoidably.
Pretend that the (free) image above doesn't have the syringe/needle and what one is left with is what my bedside cabinet is starting to look like. This is just a factual observation with no hidden agenda - nobody is looking for a sympathy vote here.
Over the last two days my very supportive and 'hard-pressed' wife and I have spent almost as much time within NHS buildings as our own home having had two visits to Louth Hospital urgent care centre really out of desperation as nothing was seemingly able to remove the pain I was in from my left arm issue and things seemed to be escalating without any resolution in prospect.
This problem - for simplicity we'll call it a 'frozen shoulder' has turned into an entire loss of use of my left arm and with being unable to bear anybody or anything touching almost any part of my arm - particularly my elbow. so, not unnaturally one starts speculating on what I have really got here.
Obviously as somebody that spent part of his working life in I.T. we have explored The Web for what is going on in my body and bearing in mind that no doctor will pin any label on this in terms of a firm categorical diagnosis after 6 weeks - we conclude that it is either tendonitis or, more likely bursitis.
Inflammation of the bursa (you can look it all up ... or click my link above) can and does cause these levels of pain and movement disruption.
After receiving morphine yesterday afternoon in Louth, by the evening I had my first short window of near complete pain relief. I am up typing this around 2/3 a.m. after topping-up my normal tablet pain relief with my first self-administered teaspoonful of liquid morphine and I seem calmer now.
I don't like taking anything!
I was really nervous about this first dose - thinking that I am at the start of becoming a drug addict. I jest of course.
In my mind, trying to be positive, my judgement is that the worst is past and that day by day things will improve.
Jane has a long drive today (with me I hope and expect) to Hull to get our Jeep serviced. We gave up with Pentagon in Lincoln (long story). Like a little boy with his new toy, I love flying over The Humber Bridge without stopping at the toll booths (since acquiring a Humber Tag electronic device that sits on the interior mirror and triggers a discounted toll debit from our Tag account). I am so sad that I would almost find an excuse to go to Hull just to hear that little bleep as we speed pass the queueing vehicles at the toll booths - love it! - Actually rather love Hull too - but that's another story.
Tomorrow we were really looking forward to welcoming our hopefully new friends (former computer clients) to our home for the first time but in the circumstances we felt we had to cancel - well postpone. Sorry Keith and Lynn. - They advise 'going private' re my condition and I will evaluate this option and discuss same with my GP at tomorrow's a.m. appointment when hopefully my MRI scan will be available to view. - Can you believe it ... the Doctor (Dr. Gogu - a wonderful name) at Louth could not view the MRI as Wednesday is the day off of the person that opens emails!
Time to try sleep again (03.17 a.m. Thursday).
As the morphine kicks in ... let me add a little funny bit ...
The young female Geordie-sounding (from Middlesbrough actually) radiologist doing my elbow X-ray yesterday was very chatty - nice girl - shared with me the following ...
"Oh that frozen shoulder thing's awful - my mum had it - dreadful - that's the one there's no cure for but she got over it herself - had it for ages and woke up one day and it was gone."
I laughed all the long way back on foot to Dr. Gogu - I'm laughing again now - must be the drugs.
I do hope he doesn't get her into trouble - sweet girl - but he said he'd have a word with her!
Wednesday, 22 August 2018
An illustration of why we live in rural Lincolnshire
The maginificent photo below, taken by my friend, John Oliver and with his copyright shows the sheer beauty we live amongst here in rural Lincolnshire.
I think this item deserves a new 'label' (post category).
Apologies to John and viewers of his picture that the size is small but it is the largest available without crashing into the side panel to the right. The silly size of reproduction here does not do the outstanding picture justice.
I think this item deserves a new 'label' (post category).
Apologies to John and viewers of his picture that the size is small but it is the largest available without crashing into the side panel to the right. The silly size of reproduction here does not do the outstanding picture justice.
Down to one finger typing
Yesterday at Louth urgent care centre as lost use of whole of left arm and no doctor appointments at surgery and in dire pain throughout left arm and especially elbow. At least I have an Elbow album to accompany my now one-fingered blogging.
Still no MRI results but X-ray shows no abnormalities.
No firm diagnosis either so likely to go private when attending my next booked Dr. (surgery) appointment Friday. This situation cannot continue like this.
Monday, 20 August 2018
Sir Peter Tapsell dies
I am about to place a link to a BBC website news item so hopefully that does not constitute any kind of copyright infringement - I don't think so.
Sir Peter Tapsell I knew and liked even though my political views are further left of his as a lifelong Conservative. I am more a lifelong 'rebel' - meaning that I pretty much always take a view away from the mainstream or certainly away from The Establishment in Britain.
I only knew him a little of course but our paths crossed when I was leading a local anti-windfarm group and I invited him to speak at our village hall here in Lincolnshire (as our then MP). He was great - very much against so-called windfarms and very much clued-up about how they were not at all green when one did the science as when one included all the costs, financial, green-wise and benefit-wise, after the thousands of tons of concrete was dropped into our fields to hold up these monstrosities in our lovely countryside - wind turbines were far from 'green' and Sir Peter Tapsell knew it and supported our cause. By the way that particular windfarm (Asserby) was unanimously rejected by East Lindsey DC Planning Authority after a vigorous campaign started by me and continued by Bob Baker.
I have a lovely complimentary letter from Sir Peter Tapsell which I cherish somewhat as he was good enough to take the time to write after our village meeting and say how well-run our campaign and our meeting was.
I wish I could say such complimentary things about his successor to the MP-ship - namely about Victoria Atkins. In my view she is simply what I would call a 'career MP' - out for what she can get herself and to hell with the constituents. I have raised things with her more than once and she didn't even bother to reply. - A waste of space - but when I first met her I told her that she would be a Home Secretary one day - she blushed (she hadn't been an MP for long and I suppose she still had blushing capability). Her background is in law - so I sadly stick by my prediction that she will be Home Secretary eventually - poor us - poor country.
Sir Peter was 'old school' - from another era - decent, principled, honourable and a good constituency MP. It's sad that he's gone but dying aged 88 isn't a bad innings.
Link: Sir Peter Tapsell dies aged 88
Sir Peter Tapsell I knew and liked even though my political views are further left of his as a lifelong Conservative. I am more a lifelong 'rebel' - meaning that I pretty much always take a view away from the mainstream or certainly away from The Establishment in Britain.
I only knew him a little of course but our paths crossed when I was leading a local anti-windfarm group and I invited him to speak at our village hall here in Lincolnshire (as our then MP). He was great - very much against so-called windfarms and very much clued-up about how they were not at all green when one did the science as when one included all the costs, financial, green-wise and benefit-wise, after the thousands of tons of concrete was dropped into our fields to hold up these monstrosities in our lovely countryside - wind turbines were far from 'green' and Sir Peter Tapsell knew it and supported our cause. By the way that particular windfarm (Asserby) was unanimously rejected by East Lindsey DC Planning Authority after a vigorous campaign started by me and continued by Bob Baker.
I have a lovely complimentary letter from Sir Peter Tapsell which I cherish somewhat as he was good enough to take the time to write after our village meeting and say how well-run our campaign and our meeting was.
I wish I could say such complimentary things about his successor to the MP-ship - namely about Victoria Atkins. In my view she is simply what I would call a 'career MP' - out for what she can get herself and to hell with the constituents. I have raised things with her more than once and she didn't even bother to reply. - A waste of space - but when I first met her I told her that she would be a Home Secretary one day - she blushed (she hadn't been an MP for long and I suppose she still had blushing capability). Her background is in law - so I sadly stick by my prediction that she will be Home Secretary eventually - poor us - poor country.
Sir Peter was 'old school' - from another era - decent, principled, honourable and a good constituency MP. It's sad that he's gone but dying aged 88 isn't a bad innings.
Link: Sir Peter Tapsell dies aged 88
More about why this blog is here
Well - nothing very exciting about that video experiment!
Thought I ought to explain a bit about why my blog is here at all ...
FACEBOOK issue:
I used to be an avid Facebook user, much to my wife's consternation. She really disliked (past tense you'll note) Facebook because she felt that it was a serious privacy infringement. For example our front cover on FB showed the two of us although it was my Facebook account. I thought that this was a decent, nice thing to do - to show that we were, let's say, a happily married couple. However, my wife thought that I and Facebook stole her identity in that she was portrayed out there in cyberspace.
All of this Facebook reference is academic now as I have been off FB for well over a year now (came off some time in 2017). Why? Because of two primary reasons:
A) I was sick of all the advertising that was increasingly creeping in on us all via FB.
B) I was also irritated by the tendency, whether FB's fault or people's that meant that I kept getting second generation posts of others turning up on my timeline. This is where FB friends were re-posting their friends' stuff and I, whether I was interested or not, got to see it.
Of course coming off FB effectively meant that I was 'cutting my nose off to spite my face'. I say this because I missed all the family contact and content and it made me feel rather isolated but my principles made me stay off FB. Ironically, here we are in 2018 and FB has lost thousands of members for similar reasons and has been in the headlines because of alleged privacy 'attacks' etc. The Cambridge Analytica scandal was the focus of those allegations.
So one reason for having this blog is, potentially at least, to use it as a focal point for my stuff - my news - my writing - my everything (it could be). Of course I have named it based on my writing aspirations and ambitions.
MY WRITING:
It occurs to me that anyone just arriving at my blog today (August 20th. 2018) might think, well he names his blog in such a way as to suggest that they - the visitor(s) will get to see a selection of my short stories, flash fiction and maybe even a novel or two. Obviously as of today at least - you the reader is going to be disappointed and somewhat confused I guess!
Thing is I do INTEND this blog to focus on my writing but I am still learning the technical side of running a blog - so there's a mass of incidental and non-writing stuff on it to date (sorry about that).
I perhaps (in defence) ought to state here and now that I do have quite a number of short stories and a couple of started novels on the go or filed away ready to be dusted off and published in a very simple starter way here on the blog or, hopefully through Amazon publishing later (or who knows?) - Maybe even through a recognised mainstream publisher later.
Thought I ought to explain a bit about why my blog is here at all ...
FACEBOOK issue:
I used to be an avid Facebook user, much to my wife's consternation. She really disliked (past tense you'll note) Facebook because she felt that it was a serious privacy infringement. For example our front cover on FB showed the two of us although it was my Facebook account. I thought that this was a decent, nice thing to do - to show that we were, let's say, a happily married couple. However, my wife thought that I and Facebook stole her identity in that she was portrayed out there in cyberspace.
All of this Facebook reference is academic now as I have been off FB for well over a year now (came off some time in 2017). Why? Because of two primary reasons:
A) I was sick of all the advertising that was increasingly creeping in on us all via FB.
B) I was also irritated by the tendency, whether FB's fault or people's that meant that I kept getting second generation posts of others turning up on my timeline. This is where FB friends were re-posting their friends' stuff and I, whether I was interested or not, got to see it.
Of course coming off FB effectively meant that I was 'cutting my nose off to spite my face'. I say this because I missed all the family contact and content and it made me feel rather isolated but my principles made me stay off FB. Ironically, here we are in 2018 and FB has lost thousands of members for similar reasons and has been in the headlines because of alleged privacy 'attacks' etc. The Cambridge Analytica scandal was the focus of those allegations.
So one reason for having this blog is, potentially at least, to use it as a focal point for my stuff - my news - my writing - my everything (it could be). Of course I have named it based on my writing aspirations and ambitions.
MY WRITING:
It occurs to me that anyone just arriving at my blog today (August 20th. 2018) might think, well he names his blog in such a way as to suggest that they - the visitor(s) will get to see a selection of my short stories, flash fiction and maybe even a novel or two. Obviously as of today at least - you the reader is going to be disappointed and somewhat confused I guess!
Thing is I do INTEND this blog to focus on my writing but I am still learning the technical side of running a blog - so there's a mass of incidental and non-writing stuff on it to date (sorry about that).
I perhaps (in defence) ought to state here and now that I do have quite a number of short stories and a couple of started novels on the go or filed away ready to be dusted off and published in a very simple starter way here on the blog or, hopefully through Amazon publishing later (or who knows?) - Maybe even through a recognised mainstream publisher later.
Video experiment
Yes - you guessed it - another 4 a.m. stint. I tried not to get up but the usual shoulder pain was, although not that bad, bad enough to keep me awake, so thought I'd invest an hour or two downstairs on the laptop (whilst the newly taken pain pill had time to work).
I am still very much in a learning curve regarding this blog - technically I mean. I am also very concerned not to infringe any copyright laws nor step the wrong side of the law in any way (whether accidentally or otherwise). Thus I am on the lookout for anything I might post that inadvertently appears or is libellous etc.
Tonight (well yes - it's this morning I suppose) I thought I'd play around with a free (no licence required Creative Commons type) video - just to see what the download and placement process is with Blogger (that's Google Blogs).
So above here is (or should be) a video of a nighttime cloudscape/moonscape.
I'm just going to see what this views like.
I am thinking if I need another "label" for these 'experiments' or should it just go under Writing?
That'll do for now.
Sunday, 19 August 2018
Big Brown Toad
I was quietly on my way back from my nightly rummaging for slugs and horror of horrors, terror of terrors, suddenly I am bathed in bright sunshine, even though I know it's the middle of the night. Of course, then I realise, it's that sad human race again and their weird inventions - they call it electricity, they call it PIR detection light, placed strategically high on their bricky dwelling's wall above me. Silly of me to forget, but it's been months since they lit me up with night time sunshine.
I play dead and then I remember that I was in the middle of a lovely one-legged stretch as is my custom when returning, full-stomached on slugs. That did not look good. Nobody dies mid-stretch I was thinking.
Suddenly I was able to read the thoughts of this human and I suspect he was reading my thoughts too. It happens you know ... He was thinking about my words to myself about nobody dies mid-stretch - and he was pulling a wry grin as he thought to himself - I reckon I might die mid-stretch ... he had some weird shoulder thing wrong with him. It was very obvious the way he looked like the hunchback of Notre Dame - all one-sided. - And apparently one of his regular 'catastrophies' in the middle of the night when previously asleep - he would half-consciously stretch his bad left arm and suddenly the whole left shoulder leapt into spasm and he jumped upright in colossal pain. I felt his pain actually. Poor human. So the start of our brief relationship was good, very good; I felt sorry for him.
That was why I let him think that I liked him - sitting with my one leg outstretched, motionless, apart from my uncontrollable puffing-up (I have tried for years to stop it happening when my mind says - no threat - but my body and instinct says - look big, bold, bossy and belligerent - especially to stupid humans). So, yes, repeatedly he stroked my back - what a weirdo - I let him - he thought I was his mate - well I was a bit I suppose.
Anyway as soon as he stopped and the sunshine turned off - under cover of darkness I hopped away and when he looked again with the sunshine back on, I was gone. I wasn't of course ... I live under that strip of ply-board that the stupid human has lying against the wall nearby where, in his stupid mind, he says to himself - I'll put that up sometime to cover the thin gap between the brick wall and the ghastly garage roof supports. He never will do it, I know, so it makes a nice dry home for me.
I will return one day; so will the stupid human.
I play dead and then I remember that I was in the middle of a lovely one-legged stretch as is my custom when returning, full-stomached on slugs. That did not look good. Nobody dies mid-stretch I was thinking.
Suddenly I was able to read the thoughts of this human and I suspect he was reading my thoughts too. It happens you know ... He was thinking about my words to myself about nobody dies mid-stretch - and he was pulling a wry grin as he thought to himself - I reckon I might die mid-stretch ... he had some weird shoulder thing wrong with him. It was very obvious the way he looked like the hunchback of Notre Dame - all one-sided. - And apparently one of his regular 'catastrophies' in the middle of the night when previously asleep - he would half-consciously stretch his bad left arm and suddenly the whole left shoulder leapt into spasm and he jumped upright in colossal pain. I felt his pain actually. Poor human. So the start of our brief relationship was good, very good; I felt sorry for him.
That was why I let him think that I liked him - sitting with my one leg outstretched, motionless, apart from my uncontrollable puffing-up (I have tried for years to stop it happening when my mind says - no threat - but my body and instinct says - look big, bold, bossy and belligerent - especially to stupid humans). So, yes, repeatedly he stroked my back - what a weirdo - I let him - he thought I was his mate - well I was a bit I suppose.
Anyway as soon as he stopped and the sunshine turned off - under cover of darkness I hopped away and when he looked again with the sunshine back on, I was gone. I wasn't of course ... I live under that strip of ply-board that the stupid human has lying against the wall nearby where, in his stupid mind, he says to himself - I'll put that up sometime to cover the thin gap between the brick wall and the ghastly garage roof supports. He never will do it, I know, so it makes a nice dry home for me.
I will return one day; so will the stupid human.
The nightly ritual
Up since 2.30 a.m. (now as I type 4.45 a.m.).
Despite pain killing tablets - so in pain that even though I considered this nightly getting-up practise, 'unhealthy' - might as well do it as it looked as though I'd never get back to sleep. Funny but I still don't think I'll ever be a long-term insomniac ... When this frozen shoulder thing is gone (it must go sometime I hope) I'll go back to normal - caressing the pillow, loving the fact that I can sleep for as long and as deeply as I ever did before.
I had some inspiration in these early hours to write a child's story as there on the patio, motionlass, with one outstretched leg, my outbound cat glancing briefly towards it, was a large brown toad.
I several times gently stroked his back and as I even approched, he puffed himself (or herself) up but relaxed again when I stopped stroking. I thought he and I, like my cat and I, had an understanding, I would not hurt him and he would not hurt me.
I am feeling tired again but I will dream-up a little child story and see what it looks like again tomorrow (which is actually today now at almost 5 a.m.).
Despite pain killing tablets - so in pain that even though I considered this nightly getting-up practise, 'unhealthy' - might as well do it as it looked as though I'd never get back to sleep. Funny but I still don't think I'll ever be a long-term insomniac ... When this frozen shoulder thing is gone (it must go sometime I hope) I'll go back to normal - caressing the pillow, loving the fact that I can sleep for as long and as deeply as I ever did before.
I had some inspiration in these early hours to write a child's story as there on the patio, motionlass, with one outstretched leg, my outbound cat glancing briefly towards it, was a large brown toad.
I several times gently stroked his back and as I even approched, he puffed himself (or herself) up but relaxed again when I stopped stroking. I thought he and I, like my cat and I, had an understanding, I would not hurt him and he would not hurt me.
I am feeling tired again but I will dream-up a little child story and see what it looks like again tomorrow (which is actually today now at almost 5 a.m.).
Saturday, 18 August 2018
My first public exhibition of my writing and a little background.
Insomnia?
No - just the frozen shoulder ...
A) Preamble - It's just after 2 a.m. and I am typing again on the blog - when you cannot sleep for pain - you either lie there changing position over and over - or you come down, have tea and toast and type (which actually does not feel too good for the left arm either). The cat keeps me company on the settee (I'm actually not in bed as the clipart suggests) - he and I have a good understanding. He's the same sort of age as me (in cat years that is) - luckily in better health than me although he shares the same attributes - in fact his stomach hangs down not far above the ground as he walks along - at least mine hardly notices - unless you are an intimate person in my life and really know its expanse - oh dear too much information again ...
OK here goes - into the dangerous zone of reality - I am about to talk about real people and real events and real experiences (that of course is real experiences as in my take on them). I have to say that as no doubt others will see things differently and maybe eventually these "others" will take exception. I'll try to be very careful and not libel anyone...
Some months ago I attended (in my real name - not my pen name used on this blog and in my writing generally) a writing group in Louth - Lincolnshire. I won't go into detail here and now (in this paragraph) but I am going to put a follow-on post below (same post with same title but a separate section below) that gives a sort of account of the group and the written piece "Hats" - a piece of flash fiction (which I thought and a few others thought quite good).
So to be clear:
A) You have this preamble (above).
B) You have a copy of an account of what led to this particular piece of written work.
C) You have the work in it's raw form.
D) You have a slightly tidied-up (final?) version of that work (just over 400 words - so to me that's flash fiction).
B) Starting with the word Background ... The account of what led to the particular piece of writing (don't be put off by any strange formatting or apparently botched layout or entries - it is because the item was pasted from WORD and some weird stuff crept in - sorry.
Background:
Louth Poetry Group (which
now also includes creative writing) has (as at March 2018) twice weekly
café style meetings (bacon rolls or croissants & fresh percolated coffee
available) that typically run from 09.00 until 12 noon and have a section when
the leader asks what we’ve been up to writing-wise, followed by say a 45 minute
writing session which is then, in turn, read out and peer-reviewed. Sometimes
the writing section is themed but mostly not – i.e. free choice of subject
matter. The group also has monthly workshops and seasonal ‘readings’ (evenings).
Their website (click the link above) has full details. The man running it, Christopher
Sanderson is a richly accented Yorkshireman (whom I found audibly attractive, not despite of, but because of, his perpetual dropping of Hs). In my assessment he was and is an
accomplished and prolific poet – not sure if published though. His partner, Kate
Harrison, a former nurse, also writes, but quantitively less so and she is also
a humanist celebrant.
I had been attending for about 2/3 months and on the whole
enjoyed it a lot but I got the impression that the people running it didn't like
me, especially the the leader's partner (but that seemed to start after I did a visual art performance comparing two music items including Sting and Every Breath You Take - which had lyrics that she saw as being about stalking and which had never previously occured to me). I think that ‘highbrow people’ (and I believe they
think that they are) sometimes think that anyone who acts ‘above their station’
should be shunned and I think they think that I act above my station. Over the
few months I had been with them I gained/learned all of the following and
more:
o
A strong belief in my own ability to write good
fiction.
o
That I work at my best under pressure when
writing live in ‘class’.
o
A realisation that poetry is something I
really struggle with writing and also to understand the breadth and scope of it.
o
That sometimes my flash fiction (very short
stories) that are written in class live and timed are so good that the two key
people don’t actually believe that I did it in class (as I have mostly used a
laptop) and may not even believe that the work is my own. (If one thought that - that might indeed be a
reason not to like me... or was a little jealousy afoot maybe?) Christopher had at
least twice asked me the strange question “did you just write that [xxxx] or was
it written earlier?” It’s not easy actually to categorically prove that my work was “fresh” and why should one have to? I wondered about
screen-prints of the file properties which show date and time but why should one
and how sad are they to think me or anyone at a writers’ group capable of
such ridiculous subterfuge!
o
I have witnessed jealousy many times before during my life and
because I have never suffered from ‘the disease’ myself I often seek excuses
for such alien behaviour by others, thinking such nastiness cannot be what it
often turns out to be - i.e. real (when eventually one is left with no other conclusion to draw). My time at a
previous local writers’ group illustrated the same behaviours when I was
effectively bullied by that male leader - illustrated by him constantly saying in public “no
non-reader will ever make a writer”. This ridicule almost destroyed my self confidence at the time which thankfully I have fully rebuilt.
I know I can write [prose at least]. All I need to do is do it and get published – but I don’t have much time left and I am not very disciplined.
C) - The first (in class live version of Hats back in March 2018):
Hats
I remember that
flight – June 1st 1975, Jane daydreamed...
“Taxi to right 90
Pan Am 365”
“Right 90, taxiing
now”.
“Hold at runway 07
– expected 2 minutes”
We looked out into
the darkness of the Sicilian sky as the engines idled briefly.
“Half throttle
Frank”.
“Pan Am 365 – you
are cleared for immediate take off.”
“You have it Frank
– all yours”.
The four Rolls
Royce Jupiter engines roared and the 737 shuddered from a standing start to a
hundred MPH, then one fifty, two hundred and lift-off into the shimmering
redness reflected off Etna in the distance. The crew still seated and belted
watched the angle of the aircraft steepen as it climbed through the mist.
Sylvie’s attention
was taken by a man three seats down on the right aisle. He’d obviously taken
his seat belt off. He stood up awkwardly a lone figure amongst an orderly
flight complement of 160 souls.
“Sir, return to
your seat immediately please and fasten your seat belt.”
He took no damn
notice so Sylvie unbuckled her seat belt and launched herself towards him. He
had opened the locker and drew out a plastic bag.
“Jesus Sylvie – has
he got...”
This was Jane, the
other rear crew girl thinking the unthinkable: did this man have a gun in that
plastic bag?
Sylvie grabbed his
arm and gestured that he should be seated. He complied, still clutching the
bag. He stood up again reached into the bag and pulled out a bundle of paper
hats and threw them out to the people now looking tense, with one elderly
bespectacled lady looking ashen-faced.
“Come on guys – put
‘em on for Godsakes – doesn’t anybody know it’s Christmas and party time!”
Nervously two young
men slipped on their paper hats, then a girl three seats up did the same.
Slowly, never
taking her eyes off the man, Sylvie and then Jane put paper hats on as the
plane levelled out and the seat belt sign went off.
Deep sighs could be
heard along the aisles as heads turned.
“Sorry guys – did I
frighten somebody?”
Raymond Ellis was
24 years old, from Allentown, Pennsylvania (same town as Billy Joel) and he was
returning home from his first trip abroad ever. He’d been to the old country to
see his long lost Italian Mafiosi as he always called his distant cousins. He
had been diagnosed with terminal cancer two months earlier and he had completed
stage one of his bucket list.
Ignore my [class] notes below:
Uncle Bulgaria hat??
Theme next time: weather whether – for Thursday April 5th.
Good Friday for Spring Solstice thing 19.30
........................................................................................................................................
D) Tidied-up version (that hopefully will eventually turn up in my published anthology):
Hats
I remember that flight – June 1st 1975, Jane
daydreamed...
“Taxi to right nine zero Pan Am 365.”
“Right nine zero, taxiing now.”
“Hold at runway zero seven – expected two minutes.”
We looked out into the darkness of the Sicilian sky as the
engines idled briefly.
“Half throttle Frank.”
“Pan Am 365 – you are cleared for immediate take off.”
“You have it Frank – all yours.”
The four Rolls Royce Jupiter engines roared and the 737
shuddered from a standing start to a hundred MPH, then one fifty, two hundred
and lift-off into the shimmering redness reflected off Etna in the distance.
The crew still seated and belted watched the angle of the aircraft steepen as
it climbed through the mist.
Sylvie’s attention was taken by a man three seats down on
the right of the aisle. He’d obviously taken his seat belt off. He stood up
awkwardly a lone figure amongst an orderly seated flight complement of 160
souls.
“Sir, return to your seat immediately please and fasten your
seat belt.”
He took no damn notice so Sylvie unbuckled her seat belt and
launched herself towards him. He had opened the locker and drew out a plastic
bag.
“Jesus Sylvie – has he got ...”
This was Jane, the other rear crew girl thinking the
unthinkable: did this man have a gun in that plastic bag?
Sylvie grabbed his arm and gestured that he should be
seated. He complied, still clutching the bag. He stood up again reached into
the bag and pulled out a bundle of paper hats and threw them out to the people
now looking tense, with one elderly bespectacled lady looking ashen-faced.
“Come on guys – put ‘em on for Godsakes – doesn’t anybody
know it’s Christmas and party time!”
Nervously two young men slipped on their paper hats, then a
girl three seats up did the same.
Slowly, never taking her eyes off the man, Sylvie and then
Jane put paper hats on as the plane levelled out and the seat belt sign went
off.
Deep sighs could be heard along the aisles as heads turned.
“Sorry guys – did I frighten somebody?”
Raymond Ellis was 24 years old, from Allentown, Pennsylvania
(same town as Billy Joel) and he was returning home from his first trip abroad
ever. He’d been to the old country to see his long-lost Italian Mafiosi as he
always called his distant cousins. He had been diagnosed with terminal cancer
two months earlier and he had completed stage one of his bucket list.
(415 words including title Hats – originated in March 2018
and placed on blog in August 2018.)
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