Tuesday, 13 September 2011

C'est un chanson qui nous ressemble . . . *

Good Evening Dear Friends . . .

I'm so glad you decided to pop in, despite the weather which, whilst certainly worth complaining about as per usual, is at least somewhat seasonal . . . we are fast approaching Autumn  - only eight more days to go - and the weather is sufficiently gusty and wet to allow us to cast our minds back the the heady days (counted upon the fingers of one hand probably) of "Summer" - you remember? That week in May, wasn't it?  Anyhow, here you are in spite of  the squalls, so take a seat near the fire, I shall rustle up a pot of tea and we shall see where the evening takes us . . .

First of all it has been an inexcusably long time since I last posted; at that time the first white rabbit of the month had just revealed the tips of its snowy ears; now the only thing remaining is the tail and the oink as it were - not that rabbits have an 'oink' obviously, but I use this phrase as it is a much belovéd remnant of my childhood and one that I rarely get to utilise these days . . . so what has been happening in the intervening time since the last posting here? 

Well, now that I am sitting in the study in front of my lovely little Book of the Air I have to be totally honest and say not a great deal at all - but I suppose a little goes a long way and takes up much time in a quantum kind of way . . . I am, by the by, a big fan of science even though I understand very little of it; I especially love the weirdness that is the quantum world and, as it says in Maggie McKee's Introduction to Quantum World:
Quantum objects can exist in multiple states and places at the same time, requiring a mastery of statistics to describe them. Rife with uncertainty and riddled with paradoxes, the theory has been criticised for casting doubt on the notion of an objective reality - a concept many physicists, including Albert Einstein, have found hard to swallow.
Now how did we get onto that subject? Hmmm . . . Well, I suppose it's because I seem to have been thinking a lot about thinking really; I've been trying to understand why I think the way I do and therefore why I make the decisions I do  - and why I have made those I have have made in the past.  I suppose the way we think describes and dictates who we are and the way we behave: I think, therefore I am, as old René D was oft want to say . . . I do find it strange that something like thinking which takes up all of our conscious and unconscious time is something that lots of us rarely consider;  we tend to block it out by being busy or by anaesthasising ourselves in some way, yet spending time considering it, asking some seemingly simple questions, can give some fascinating insights into our very own world, the quantum world that is our inner self that is often "rife with uncertainty and riddled with paradoxes " too 

And so, along with this reductio absurdum, come thoughts for new works and revisits of old ones; I can see patterns in the way I write that show I've been asking the same questions over and over again, just using different words . . . some of these examples are to be collected together for the first time in "Ex Libris Somnia" a collection of shorter short stories and poems which I could have sworn I'd already told you about but, flicking through the last few posts, can find no mention of . . . all this thinking is causing a few of the old circuits to burn out perhaps! Anyhow, it's a wee anthology of stuff and of which more later - perhaps!

Last week saw the first  birthday post-mortem of the Old Duchess; I thought perhaps it might be a sad time but was pleasantly surprised to have only happy thoughts.  Whether this is because of the amount of time I spend dealing with bereavement or, more likely I feel, that I am convinced that she died when she was ready to and that there was nothing else left for her to give on this particular plane . . . Anyhow, the day was spent with Sister Cate - my other sister being waterlogged and unable to attend - we did some very mundane things; had tea and cake, shopped etc and, alongside these everyday activities that constitute Life, remembered her with happiness - which, I believe, is all one can ask. A small notice was placed in the local rag, along with a copy of the poem I wrote for the funeral service (not my idea I hasten to add) along with other memorials from the OD's sister and her family.  One aspect I found interesting was that I know that some of my clients have had issues with graves; some really need somewhere to go to talk to their loved ones or to place flowers; others avoid such places as though death is, in some way, catching! May's ashes were scattered onto the sea and so there isn't anywhere to place flowers or to go to talk to her . . . and I find, to my relief, that I really don't mind; I don't need to go to that place as it is already within me.

So that being the time before what of the time that will be? What joys await yours truly in the forthcoming days? Well, I'm doing a little secret planning for a venture into the world of mind bending with a lovely chap who I had the very good fortune to meet a couple of years ago; we are planning a meeting in the coming days to take the idea to the next stage which is exciting.  It has taken some time to put together but, thanks in no small part to the absolutely fantastic support of the two dearest friends I have in the world - you know who you are - I am ready to go for it . . . intrigued? Ah, don't be, it's not that exciting . . . well, it could be !  Another meet with Sister Cate is also on the cards - we are slowly working our way through repairing our senses and this week should see new eyes ( or glasses at least) for her whilst I very seriously need to consider getting some kind of ear-trumpet as I am becoming more and more deaf! Last week I visited a Buddhist Centre in Cheshire for a study class in meditation; it was over subscribed and I was seated about ten feet away from the monk who was leading it.  He was quite softy spoken, as one would expect, but even so I was applied by the fact that I picked out about one word in twenty if I was lucky! my friend who was with me had to tap me on the hand to tell me when the meditation part was over . . . so it's off to see my trusted Dr Liam and see if audiology will do anything for me. Whenever I get together with Cate I am reminded of May and her brother Derek; they were both exceptionally deaf and would have long conversations of "Eh! What? Who?" etc  a bit like the three old dears out for the day: one says "Oh it's windy today" the second says "No, it's Thursday" to which the third replies "So am I; let's have a cup of tea" !

Talking of which, there's me blathering on and I haven't even poured the tea . . . Goodness me is that the time? Well, maybe you would be better getting back and having one in the comfort of your own home? I expect so too . . . Thank you for dropping by again, so lovely to have you here in Myrtle House; I hope the rest of the week is an absolute joy to behold for us all and that you are forever burdened like a donkey with an unending load of love and happiness!

'til next time

Be Seeing You !





* What about a competition? Can anybody see the connection between the title and the subject matter of this post? If so, let me know by email for a chance to sieze the glittering prize! :) 

Thursday, 1 September 2011

Let the Dog See The Rabbits . . .

My Dear Friends . . .

First of all a somewhat tardy but nevertheless well intentioned "White Rabbits x 3" to you one and all, as we slip seamlessly from the torrid rain of August to the blistering heat of September . . . well, for today at least . . .  I hope you all enjoyed the Bank Holiday and that the sandbags worked as well as expected; although Irene wasn't due to call over here I got the impression that she at least left her Carte de Visite for us to consider!

So here we tumble, like many-hued leaves subject to the vagaries of the zephyr's breath, blown headlong into Autumn and the thrill of the changing year . . . For some of you that may mean the excitement of a new start in the hallowed Halls of Academia, for me it signals, for the time being at least, an end to such fancies; my portfolio is finished and submitted and is such stuff that reams are made of! Eighty Three blood, sweat and tear soaked pages . . . they'll never accept it in that state! Anyhow, the deed is done and the picture above shows my last view of platform two for a wee while . . . I shall miss my evening permabulations around the park though; they were a godsend and a source of quiet inspiration.

In other news I'd quickly like to send the hugest possible best wishes to my dearest Lambkin who has managed to secure a position ( Oo-er, Missus!) which could be the start of a whole new life - Well Done to You ! And on the flip side of that hugs of commiseration to Miss Shepherd who has looked after the flock member in question most ably  - I hope that opening the gate of the fold and saying goodbye is not too painful . . .  I had to say goodbye this week to some rather unpleasant and uninvited guests when it was pointed out to me that a neest (rhymes with east) of wasps (rhymes with clasps) had taken up residence in my attic; their comings and goings were causing quite a stir in the otherwise tranquil environs surrounding Myrtle House and so the relevant Ninjas were summoned and in four minutes had completed their task - the sting in the tail (Ho!Ho! Ho!) being the accompaniment of the famous Hefty Bill . . . ah well, it had to be done although being of buddhist (with a small bee) leanings it did perturb me to have to perform waspocide on such a large scale!

Looking out of the study window I can see the inky darkness of another night has descended - and it isn't even eighty-thirty yet! Another twenty days and Autumn will be upon us . . . The Famous Sally Dog and I took our matutinal meander around Mesnes Park today and I was amazed at the number of leaves already turned and fallen, yet the air was as warm as Summer - actually warmer than it had been so far - we could be in for a Little Summer of St Martin, you just never can tell, they will certainly be Dog Days in any case - especially if the canine in question is you know who . . . and as if by magic the ears prick up and the stirrings on the study sofa convey silently but eloquently the next job on the list of things I must do before I even consider a brief rest . . . yes, I must accompany her on her evening outing . . . it really is a dog's life.

I'm sure there were many more things I meant to tell you but I shall save them for another day and another thrilling episode in what passes for life in these parts.  I hope the coming days and weeks are brilliant for you all and that the only burden you suffer is how to carry around all the love given to you!

"til next time

Be Seeing You !