#897 theoldmortuary ponders.

What topics do you like to discuss?

I love a discussion that takes me somewhere interesting. Either in real life or in an inner monologue journey.  There is a load of stuff that doesn’t interest me, but if someone speaks interestingly about something I have no interest in then it is the style of discussion that becomes the thing of interest.  Sometimes the route I take in discussions is almost inexplicable even to me. But that is a sign that I have not been bored. Boredom in conversation is the worst. Boredom comes in all shapes and sizes, all of them human. Oh, I wish I was better at handling it. I’m never bored in my head so I get no practice. I know it is good manners to listen and I am a very very happy listener but not to boring people. I am in absolute awe of people who can tolerate bores and continue to look and sound interested.

The pictures in this blog come from a frequent family discussion that I was aware of at the age of five and in some ways continues on 60 years later and illustrates the twists of an interesting topic that involves boredom at an early stage. My grandparents had a relation who they kept in good contact with but rarely met. He worked at the Dungeness Power Station and lived somewhere near. He sent post cards of his Kent home. My grandparents who lived in the rolling, beautiful, Essex country side thought his landscape was boring.

In the seventies I loved the work of a punk/ Gothic film maker and Artist Derek Jarman.

In the early 2000’s I moved to South London and my nearest coast was Kent.

Derek Jarman had a home on Dungeness.

Prospect Cottage

I was living a day trip away from somewhere my grandparents thought boring but that fascinated an artist I admired.

*Dungeness* https://g.co/kgs/Nh1bce3

I loved the place instantly and love talking about it.

My dogs love it too

And now some lovely friends are holidaying there and sharing their pictures.

©Marriane Bobber

And so a discussion that I have been part of for 60 years with huge gaps, different people and for a variety of reasons just keeps going and I never know where it is heading.

That is something worthy of discussion.

If only magic realism was a thing. Or Time Travel. I could take my grandparents to Dungeness and show them how fascinating other landscapes are. We could pop in to see Lionel, the relation or Derek the artist or even Marianne and Gill in their campervan.  Or maybe a Dungeness discussion of the future!

#896 theoldmortuary ponders

When is the last time you took a risk? How did it work out?

Don’t we all take risks from time to time? Carefully judged most often but sometimes not thought out at all. Yesterday, I was tired after a few hours of computer work. I decided to sweep the yard, clearing all the moss dropped by nest-building birds. In doing so I knocked some rotting wood from a raised bed, full to the brim with these small rocks. Should I remove all the wood and accept the consequences?

Several hours later and many many shovels full of these rocks I unearthed a perfectly acceptable concrete seating area.

Currently not a thing of beauty but nothing a power washer can’t sort out. I am somewhat perplexed as to why anyone would turn this into a stone-filled raised bed. But my tiny bit of risk  taking paid off. I don’t even want to know what the concrete is hiding. We will sit here in the sun oblivious to the mystery.

The Buddha with the fractured skull seems very happy with the new location.

So now to dispose of many bags of grotty old rocks…

#893 theoldmortuary ponders.

What makes you nervous?

I am not by nature a nervous sort of person but I suffer from retrospective  nervousness when I hear that something I have been involved with has not gone to plan. I question myself as to whether I had done my best in that situation, done what was required of me and done anything extra that would have smoothed the wheels of a positive outcome. I wonder if that is a normal reaction. I would say I am a fairly confident person but not supremely  confident. As a woman I am without balls, both real and metaphorical. Here lies the pondering part of this ponder. I have often wondered what it would be like to try out some testosterone for about a week. Nothing whatsoever sexual in this,just a week of being in someone elses size 10 boots being male about everyday things . Goodness I know so many absolutely lovely men who are just a pleasure to know. But in life I have met some absolute corkers of bad examples of malehood, men who I really struggle to empathise with or understand at any level. Would a week with testosterone give me any level of understanding or insight?

The reason this question prompted this quite random ponder is that some men would not bother to consider that anything they had done would contribute to a less-than-positive outcome.  Cocksure springs to mind.

There is no female version.

Quim Questioning has a nice ring to it.

” The Marquee blew over the sea wall,   he was somewhat Cocksure that everything had been done correctly”

” The Marquee blew over the sea wall, she immediately Quimquestioned if everything had been secured correctly”

A week of feeling cocksure might be quite revelatory, no retrospective nervousness.

#892 theoldmortuary ponders

How do you unwind after a demanding day?

Sometimes I just let difficult days take their own course. A series of awkwardnesses and challenges during a day is the prompt we all need to rethink things . Demanding days are just that. Facing up to the reality of the challenge,  accepting  it and searching for a resolution, even an imperfect one just moves the whole thing a few steps forward. With just a slightly different perspective and a cup of tea ( or coffee) things look different.

#891 theoldmortuary ponders

How do you use social media?

Hmm, how do I use Social Media. Or does it use me? The latter is almost certainly true. This advert pops up everywhere I go online.

But as a Social Media content manager for a series of Arts organisations and now a Sports Club, I am unable to boast, loftily, that I have nothing to do with Social Media.   Social Media evolves quickly, using it effectively, rather than the other way around keeps me on my toes. I publish my personal blog on two platforms. I keep up with people and places that interest me. The weather in Kent for instance.

Facebook keeps me in touch with paintings that I have sold and social events I have enjoyed with memory features.

Sometimes Social Media lets me know the sad things in life like the death or illness of friends, colleagues or celebrities.

Today is the nine year anniversary of a job leaving me, rather than the other way round. The Heart Hospital in Marylebone closed and all the staff either moved to Barts in the City of London or moved to different places of their choice.

I’m not sure me and a job have ever parted company quite so elegantly before or since.

Social Media lets me share jokes with friends.

Note the date, a parody on Covid.

How do I use Social Media. In a way that I feel comfortable with.

#879 theoldmortuary ponders.

Early morning sunshine swimmers.

Describe a random encounter with a stranger that stuck out positively to you.

Not a chance that I could pick just one random encounter with a stranger. I have a ‘stranger’ face. An invisible tattoo on my forehead that says “Talk to me ‘

My family and friends can see a random encounter as it approaches, they melt away and feign deep interest in things some distance away. Leaving me alone. I like to think they are a safe distance away.

Not all strangers are strange, many have been lovely. How do I  even define ‘positive’ to encounters with strangers. Mostly they are benign.The few that have turned out not so well have been escapable.

Last weekend’s random encounter was with a holidaymaker moving into his Airbnb which was over a Vegan cafe. I am no expert on Veganism or the etiquette of holidaying above a Vegan Cafe. But my ‘ Stranger-magnet’ face marked me out as the woman to discuss his moral dilemma with. Should he put his honey-flavoured yogurt in the fridge as the bees would most certainly have been trafficked. Looking at his box of groceries, dairy goods and bacon, trafficked bees seemed to be the least of his problems. Wisdom and past experience made me cautious* Luckily the yogurt was Greek. There was zero chance that the honey in the yogurt was from wild bees living in an Olive Grove but that was what I focussed on while reassuring him that his holiday food would not cause a crisis in the North Cornwall Vegan community

* I am cautious because one of my stranger encounters was with a 90-year-old man who was mourning his wife, and their inability to have children. On a windswept cliff, in an attempt to move the conversation on, I asked him how they knew it was her who could not have children. ( This sounds wrong on many levels but not as wrong as it might seem. It was a second marriage I suppose I was hoping there was a child from his first marriage)

His sobbing stopped and he turned his reddened, rheumy old eyes to me and asked what I meant. I explained that men can also be infertile.

He looked bewildered and then sad again. They had just accepted and had never been tested. All I had managed to achieve was adding doubt to his long-held narrative. Not my finest hour.

No swimmers.

#876 theoldmortuary ponders.

Shall I start the week with a ring of bright daisies or a daft question from my blog hosts.

Lets put the daft question away.

Describe a positive thing a family member has done for you.

Nobody in their right mind would answer this and not expect some trouble. Our family is a supportive force for good with a side order of niggles. Just as a family should be. Having a supportive family is the positive thing. Niggles are normal. But to pick one family member out for doing a positive thing would hugely increase the niggles to an unmanageable level. Everyone would wonder why their positive action has not been mentioned. Can you imagine the flip of this question being helpful.

Tell us something negative a family member has done to you?

Unimaginable in a well functioning family.

How is any of this linked to daisies?

These two pictures of daisies demonstrate that positives and negatives are not always clear cut and that pointing out a positive or a negative is not always good for the bigger picture. I love both these pictures.

These daisies are growing on the edge of a  grimy boatyard. They are a welcome piece of nature in an ugly urban environment.  Hard to pick out the most positive aspect of this picture.

Less than 500 yards away.

Another daisy family, easy to pick out the most positive aspect of the bigger picture

My family is just like these daisy pictures. Impossible to pick out the one positive that deserves a mention. But we thrive.

Here is the nubbin, the crux of my daisy ponderings on the bigger picture. Anyone looking at these two pictures would find it easy to point out the one stand-out positive feature in the two pictures.

The daisy family in the picture with all aspects being largely, equally positive survived untroubled. Nothing too outstanding to see

The daisy picture with the larger-than-life, perfectly placed tennis ball did not survive.*

* At least three committee meetings and many person hours sealed the fate of the tennis club daisy family.

My apologies for a meandering,  not precise blog. I’m not certain I demonstrated my point perfectly.

Praising one individual publicly nearly always diminishes  the others in their team( family) in some way.

Lost? You are in good company, find me in the daisy patch

#875 theoldmortuary ponders.

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

The early morning, which is when most blogs are written, is perhaps the most unchanging time of day. So with some confidence I can say that in ten years time I will be performing my early morning ritual. Tea followed by coffee. Where I will be doing it is quite another matter, one that is completely unpredictable. But life is unpredictable even in the short term. Even one minute before seeing these Llamas there was no expectation of a Friday afternoon llama encounter. We were in Tintagel, North Cornwall. Home of Arthurian legend.

The Llamas were accompanied by Knights of the Round Table. The Knights were in the pub. The Llamas patiently waiting outside.

What is unpredictable in life is that in just a few moments it all made perfect sense.Fabulous how the hunan brain retains such utter nonsense.A Monty Python and the Holy Grail Stag Party or similar. Men, probably in their sixties having a themed weekend away. Link below to imdb if I have lost you already.

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0071853/?ref_=ext_shr

The next link explains the Llama bit.

15 Facts about Monty Python and the Holy Grail

The link also explains my own Monty Python moment. When I was working in London I had a patient called Reg Larner*. I asked him if people ever got the connection with Reg Llama from Brixton. His face took on a pained but bemused expression as he told me he had lived for a long while in Brixton and regretted moving away, his unintentional comedy name fitting perfectly with his address.

Where will I be in 10 years. Enjoying a coffee and pondering the joy of unpredictability.

*I was also at school with Michael Ellis

Apologies to everyone who does not love the absurdity of Monty Python. 

According to the credits, the movie is directed by 40 Specially Trained Ecuadorian Mountain Llamas, 6 Venezuelan Red Llamas, 142 Mexican Whooping Llamas, 14 North Chilean Guanacos (Closely Related to the Llama), Reg Llama of Brixton, 76000 Battery Llamas From “Llama-Fresh” Farms Ltd. Near Paraguay, and Terry Gilliam and Terry Jones. 

#874 theoldmortuary ponders

What are 5 everyday things that bring you happiness?

I couldn’t possibly narrow this down to only 5 but anarchic nature always makes me smile. I went to a really popular beach at low tide yesterday.  It was completely  empty so the dogs could be giddy without me paying them too much attention while I rested on the concrete side of the sea pool.

The sea batters this pool twice a day at high tide. The pool is soon to be renovated; tiny holes are appearing in the concrete and nature just jumps right in and fills the holes. The hole, which is about the size of a large coat button is home to Rough Winkles, Periwinkle Hermit Crabs and baby Barnacles. All lurking near the high tide area.

One of my paintings, of urban tarmac, was all about tree roots disrupting the sleek lines of the pedestrian paths in Dulwich Park, London.

And finally, of my 5 every day things that bring me pleasure, are more tree roots. Here in Sham Shui Po, Hong Kong, they are both anarchic and conforming at the same time.

#872 theoldmortuary ponders.

Sometimes when I read the random questions that my blog host suggests first thing in the morning, I immediately know the question is not for me. Today is just such a one. But then it niggled at me as my coffee woke me up.

Describe one positive change you have made in your life.

Don’t we all make hundreds of tiny positive changes every day. Sometimes they add up to something fabulous which feels like a life changing moment. Quite often they add up to something fabulous but not what was expected. And sometimes despite all the positivity of intent some negativity slips into the process and everything in those moments feels a little out of control. Sub-optimal.

Is the size of the positive change the most important thing? Would anyone be interested in the hundreds of teeny tiny positive changes that happen in the course of one day.

This picture is an example of a teeny tiny positive change that occurred yesterday. The lighthouse mop could be dried in the sunshine and wind of yesterday’s weather. Probably for the first time in 6 months. A teeny tiny positive change that nobody noticed in the bigger picture.