Recovery Mode

We have survived the Mongolian Death Flu and I am now able to take pen in hand and resume my duties. I find as usual it is not the physical symptoms that are so distressing, though this whatever it was, was rather nasty but the emotional furor that accompanies these miseries that we go through. When I was a young thing I would get sick, suffer the torments then get over it. That all changed in my mid thirties when I realized that the real distress was mental . It was if my mind was in control of me, not me it. No matter how my body was paining me my thoughts were the real torment. It has taken me a long time to figure this out, [ I can hear that slow learner comment, thank you very much !] Once I accepted the idea that most illness has an emotional origin [ I don't include karmic in with this ] it became clearer and clearer that our reaction to the stress in our lives, even happy stress is to sometimes fall ill and, in that state of mental torment that the illness brings with it is the clue to what fear we hold that needs to be healed. It is always a paradox to me and this one is that the more you look inward the clearer the outward view becomes. Of course being a slow learner I am not sure yet what the secret of this flu holds for me but I see now from writing this that the emotional component was not a big factor in this episode and perhaps I just needed a couple of days in bed with a roaring temperature to clear away a few physical cobwebs. So there we are. It is all a mystery!

I'll Be Bach

Last night was what the Russians call a white night. In normal English I couldn't sleep. Normally I just lie there gnashing my teeth or read if it's not too much effort. Last night was different. All sorts of creative ideas wandered through my brain though I was too tired to do anything but admire them. One of the musings was over accents which is interesting as this morning I recieved an email on that very thing.

"Most of the reported disparity between the English accents is purely a product of social conditioning... a Cockney chooses to speak the way he does because of his surroundings and upringing.... They may not hear the difference but they certainly have the necessary apparatus to produce them; all of them having tongues and quite a few having teeth."

I was mulling over this very thing last night though not in quite so sarky a manner. I have lived with the Austrian lo these many years and it was just a couple of years ago that we found out the man had no idea he had an accent ! We were watching him give an interview on t.v. which he does now and again. We were very proud. In the middle of the program he jumped to his feet and exclaimed in horror " I have an accent!" and left the room. We were stunned. Of course he has an accent. He's Austrian. But it seems that people are perhaps not really aware of themselves as Anthony Burgess says in the above quote. I myself am very aware of my English accent when I speak German as the Austrians make sure I understand . The hooting and sniggering can be demoralizing if you let it ; but I soldier on regardless. It seems Canadians are a politer lot as my poor Austrian found out when he saw himself on the little screen. He must be conditioned to the heckling way that people are corrected in his homeland. I wouldn't have him change his speech for the world. It's adorable. My very own Arnold!

Step and Fetchit if You Can

We are back from our holiday by the lake. It was very pleasant and lovely on the beach though I managed to wrench my arm swimming in rough water. I now have a duff shoulder to go with my gammy leg. They are both on the right side which means I am nicely balanced. The problem arises now when we are out in the car. The better half has a frozen shoulder so I have become designated driver for the last six months. Now we have to flip a coin to see who loses and gets to agonize over the gearshift. I can hear a chorus of why don't you walk? Would that I could . Gammy leg, remember? I am doing the male thing and ignoring it until it either falls off or gets better. I don't much care at this point what happens as long as there is no mess involved. The newest tiny baby was seen quickly on our way home and looks now very much like his mother. He is still quite tiny but as newborns go is BIG! Tonight we go down to visit the skybox with the million dollar view where number three child has parked herself. I must bring my camera. It is on the 14th floor. Just thinking about it makes me ill. The balcony and I will forever remain strangers. The day I found out that high buildings sway in the wind was the day I vowed to stay as near terra firma as much as humanly possible. If it wasn't for the fact that I am related to the proud tenant of this place nothing would get me up there. I am wondering how the cat is doing and if he knows he has left Earth forever. Poor beast. Must go and rest my limbs in case the quarter lets me down.

I Have Spam

Here was me thinking that this blog is just a way to vent in a slightly sarcastic manner or to bump up my typing skills when lo and behold I get blog spam[ couldn't read it as it was in Portuguese but it's the thought that counts ] and not only do the dedicated readers leave comments [ thank you both] I have an anonymous comment! Can life get any better? Apparently it can, as Little Jakey put in a belated appearance this Thursday. We now have three tiny grandsons , two of them born in the same year. Sadly we are going on a long planned week's holiday so the tiniest baby will be a week older when I see him again. The two older tinies are off the coast of Vancouver Island so they have not been seen by us since August 17. They will be BIG when they come back the end of September. I have acquired a new hobbby which is trolling for really good children's books. The main criterion is the drawings. If the story is good but the pictures are duff then we don't want it. Most of them are on my bookshelf waiting for little people to come visit. Some get given to the tinies but I am hoping to lure them up here with stories! And lovely cakes that are sugar free. Don't scoff it can be done. I will save that for another day.