Bitch on the Blog

June 7, 2018

Nerve Centre

Sometimes I wish I were given to headaches. They are a marvellous excuse to retreat from life when it gets heavy. You just lie in a darkened room. Come to think of it that’s probably why I don’t have headaches. The thought of lying in a darkened room with nothing to do not appealing to me.

My first mother’s-in-law choice of weapon to shut up her brood and her husband were sudden, if predictable, onsets of migraine. Not that I doubted her migraines. I didn’t. I have seen migraines in action, not least one of my colleagues (I was her sidekick) working in her darkened office, tears involuntarily streaming down her face with the pain of it.

Alas I am not [given to headaches]. I remember two; what’s called tension headaches, in my early twenties, in quick succession. They were amazing. My head in some sort of crushing my skull vice grip. Nearly pushing me over the edge. I’d have killed (a fly) for some morphine.

What brought on this sudden thought of headaches? Maybe my quest for eighty days in the desert. After serving life in blogland. If only I weren’t such a people person I’d love a silent retreat. But then, I suppose, being self employed, leading a nine to five solitary life, solitude which I have cherished from my earliest childhood, I engage with people more than people who are drowned in people.

Tell me about your headaches. Real, imagined, metaphorical ones. In absence of any of the above, toothache will do. Backache. Pain in the neck. Stubbed toe.  Pulled muscle. Which reminds me: Last night, bloody hell, one of my calves took it upon itself to remind me of its existence. What a cramp!

U

 

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March 31, 2017

Whimsy

One of the less palatable facts of life (apart from death, obviously) how, at times, to cope with the whole caboodle. I have found myself at points which didn’t bring me so much to breaking as having to take some deep breaths, thank my lucky stars that it’s too far and damp to walk to the next cliff, and then regroup. It pays to have shoulders. And brings¬†to mind camels and backs, and straws that break the camel’s back, and taking water from the well till the vessel cracks, you name it there will be an image for it.

Which reminds me, apropos of nothing, and one Looney may have the patience to answer: What’s it with camels, wells and donkeys? And going through the eye of a needle? That camels feature large is, geographically speaking, not a surprise. Still. Wait till a Llama spits at you, not out of spite – just because that is what Llamas do, and you look at life, as only a five year old can, through a heightened lens.

That’s how animosity starts. One moment you are meandering through your own overgrown backyard, the next someone offers you to borrow their lawn mower. Obviously the latter never happens but as an idea it works.

So, what do you do? Accept that your neighbour lends you their lawn mower not because you don’t have one but because they don’t want to be seen living to someone who is perfectly happy to walk among daisies? Or do you mow that meadow of yours to keep the peace?

Let me know. Not that I do have any land, overgrown or mowed, at the moment.

U

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