Chicken wisdom.
I loved the quote as soon as I saw this posted on Facebook…’oh, the joys of living in Scotland.’ The funny thing is, I actually miss this.
Vocabulary for these days of mine:
Palliative: Where allopathic medicine dwells secure; treating the branch without dealing with the root. A word people associate with dying. Something others can say with a tepid smile that lets them avoid the d word.
If: A popular conjunction that introduces a conditional clause, such as ‘if your Father dies…’ A pill that people need to take when speaking the d word to allow them to dance around the elephant in the room.
The elephant in the room: Death, not a large grey pachyderm but the end of life in its current form, finis. The ‘it’ that must not be named.
Time: It is not a tardis, not bigger on the inside, rather, each day seems to get shorter. Like Maltesers in the cinema; there is never enough and melting occurs before you’ve got through it all.
Honour: Not a shiny medal on display but it’s present every time you’re called, each long and tiring night. It stands vigil through your worry and holds you up when you think you can’t go on. It has no veterans license plate.
Doctors: Your new special friends, the ones you’ll both love and hate. Untidy and succinct writers of prescriptive prose, they have the potential to make a bad day better. Some think they are God but they are not. It takes more than seven years to become God.
Keep calm and carry on: Iconic words you breathe in like a mantra, a remnant of a time when bad was on a big scale, and stoicism was sipped in a cup of tea.
Tea: The elixir of life, the calm in your day, more sane than doctors, medicine and possibly sex. It’s a cup of comfort and peace, for just a few moments.
Tomorrow is a new day: Although it’s true that tomorrow may bring more of the same or worse, these bland words hold unexpected comfort, a tiny spark of hope in the unknown.
Boudica: Warrior Queen of the Iceni, the spur in the flank of invading Roman Britons, and whom you’ve currently become when contending with small mindedness and ignorance.
Emotions: Something of which you presently cannot afford. Nonetheless, like door to door religion and telesales calls, they come unbidden and when you least need them.
Boost: To give a lift, increase, or to steal, inf. such as ‘he boosted that car.’ Also the name of a nutritional supplement, which can give you a boost when the thief that is cancer has robbed your vitality.
Cancer: A rogue army, an uncontrolled division of wayward cells, a word synonomous with evil. A conversational bomb that’s better than Bollywood music for giving you a sweaty brow and making your heart thump.
Humour: Something funny, although it may be subjective. In these times, it’s best taken dark and strong like tea, and can be nearly as good for offering a few moments of sanity in a crazy time.
© S. Marian, March 14, 2013
(Alex Kingston as Boudica, click here for source.)
Horses stand in the shadows of a gigantic wooden table and two chairs during mild autumnal weather in a meadow near Doellstaedt, central Germany
Picture: Jens Meyer/AP (via Pictures of the day: 2 November 2011 - Telegraph)
Now I must eat some, if not humble, then corrective pie….not British, German actually. Credit to the Germans where it’s due but aren’t you a tad disappointed? I am. There was nothing I loved better than someone getting the better of the a Council, having been on the receiving end of similarly idiotic regulations. (Click here and scroll down for my original post which will explain these ramblings.)
Many thanks to all of my followers, both old and new. I appreciate that you read my posts when you do, like them if they appeal, and offer your tuppence worth when the moon moves you.
On the subject of followers, I do not much like that word to describe people that subscribe to a blog. It sounds like devotees of a guru or a cult. Now that’s a thought, if I had a cult, what would I promote? Well, it would have to espouse freedom because that’s a big one for me, but also compassion. Maybe my ‘followers’ could also do some good, try to make the world a better place… Yes, and we could call ourselves…..hippies! For those who’ve been there, done that, burned the bra and smoked the illicit substances and wore the tie dyed t-shirt, don’t worry, I have not taken leave of my senses. I’m having a whimsical moment and the gratitude has gone to my head. Thank you once again!
(Not an afterthought but an important thought, these photos came from the grooviest of blogs called “Awesome People Reading.” Go on, click here to see the famous enjoying their literary pursuits.)
