Following a similar ‘disaster’ sent from a friend I recalled the time that one wet windy day I slipped in muddy wet manure patch (worn out Crocs, never wise to wear on these sort of days) and was covered in yuck from head to toe. I stripped off, shoved everything into the washing machine, found some rubber boots and trundled the wheelbarrow through the rest of the chores…stark naked! No one around to faint in shock and disapproval!
My family sees me as anti social. They are probably right, but in my defence I have realised that at the family gatherings, like the lunch yesterday for 16 of us, I am invisible. People talk over me and around me. No one appears interested in what I have to say. I try to ask a question, join in the conversation, and my comments are ignored, or seem to fall on deaf ears. I can shrug it off – I do. However, avoid these occasions like the plague, and leave as soon as I possibly can without giving a justification, which would be a waste of time, there would be rolled eyes and shrugs of shoulders… ‘here goes Mummy again’ So, shall continue to be ‘anti social’ in situations like this and enjoy my encounters and long conversations with my like-minded intelligent friends!
Once, when I was 14, I was staying with friends on a farm. There was a very pink, shy, young Englishman, straight out from England and agricultural college, wearing shorts and long socks, trying to fit in and really just looking awkward in neatly pressed, brand new shorts and shirt . I found myself sitting next to him at supper, and made rolling eyes to my friend begging for help, she just giggled.. My friend and I were offered a small glass of wine and we felt very grown up. Not sure if it was the wine or absent-mindedness, but Butch, my friend’s lovely boxer sidled up to me under the table and I put my hand on his body and gave him a good scratch. Suddenly there was a snort from my friend’s father and looking at the very red embarrassed face of the Pom, to my horror I realised I had been giving his hairy leg a good scratch thinking it was Butch. The whole table collapsed into laughter and I wished myself a million miles away.
4am ponderations are full of incredible exciting ideas. Tossing and turning, thinking about all the interesting and challenging things I can do tomorrow.
Pity, never remember them next morning. Friends keep little books by their bed and write down thoughts and ideas. Nah..
Summer slides past – amazed that it’s Saturday again – heat becomes stultifying and I think of all the things I ‘should’ do – and don’t. Should is a hateful word and should be banned – when was anything that is a should helpful, encouraging or kind?