February is a weird time. Just far enough away from Christmas to have lost all the twinkleyness and we are not seeing March on the way anytime soon. Here in the UK, we are in the middle of Storm Dennis (Stop naming the weather)! It’s raining – a lot and we are all on the verge of running out of British Bulldog spirit. To be fair though, all we are having to do is put a towel down at the bottom of the French windows but some people are seeing their whole lives sinking under the water. I did put my Cary Grant coat on (big old coat – bought from a vintage fair – difficult for the wind to get up it) this afternoon and braved the weather for a walk. We spent more time than is probably healthy pinned against a pub wall but, other than that – all is well. I broke my tooth and despite having a cavity so big that I got a prawn stuck in it on Thursday – I shouldn’t worry because my “emergency” dental appointment is February 27th. I think it’s in 2020 although I wouldn’t bet the house on it.
Has anyone been watching the Agatha Christie on Sundays? The Pale Horse? I know that these BBC adaptations are meant to be different and challenging (I think we all needed counseling and support after watching John Malcovich as Poirot) but I do not have the faintest idea what is going on. And bear in mind that I re-read the book a couple of weeks ago. Although I didn’t pay much attention to the re-read – I remember not liking it originally because a chicken or something met a nasty end.
Much better in my humble opinion is the film “A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood” I wrote about the documentary about Mr Rogers a few weeks ago but this is the Tom Hanks film. (Or Tam Honks as he is forever known in our house) It is really quite brilliant and moving but very complicated and human. It was very moving to see him kneeling by his bed, a small notebook in hand, praying for people by name. Just their name – nothing else. Made me think about how worked up we (well – let’s be honest – me) get about prayer – about how we have to explain how it works to God and go into details about the whole thing, otherwise he won’t understand. Yet, here was a man with enough faith to just say a name to God. It gave me plenty of pause for thought.
I am writing this as the news about Caroline Flack taking her own life is coming through. I’m not sure that I have anything to say except that everything – everything is recoverable from – there are no exceptions. No pit is too deep as Corrie Ten Boon used to say and I wished she had heard that and also that she appealed for kindness because I suppose she knew in her soul that that was what she needed and it wasn’t forthcoming. We blame social media but social media is inanimate – it’s the people on it that are cruel. We are a mess sometimes and no mistake.
For those wondering – Aged Parent is getting a bit more settled. There are activities every day – The Music Man every Thursday seems to be a particular favourite and she eats her lunch in the dining hall every day (except when it’s batter or vegetables or cheese or pork – she can’t be doing with pork)
Anyway, always looking to be helpful she told me about her helpful remarks to the lady who sits opposite her – a permanent wheelchair user.
AP – So I told her – A word of advice my dear. I have been told that if I don’t use my legs I will lose the use of them so I am trying to walk on them as much as I can. Something for you to think about in that chair love no?
Me – Mum she’s paralyzed!!
AP – Really? Shame. Nice girl. Pity I didn’t get to speak to her earlier.
Noooooo! Have a good week.