Oh, good. I understand. So now not only are there no electricity, no gas or gasoline (by any reasonable standards available), no farm workers, no wheat, no viable prime minister or the functioning of the government, no NHS beds, no rape allegations, no opposition (although Britain thanks you for your work by Martin Lewis and Mick Lynch, and hopes to see the day you coup a coup), there also no water. who has merit of consistency at least. The drought, which we are told could last until October, is very close to 2022. know?
Like fact that there is still practically no hose line bans. Because it will cut the profits of the water companies and because the only dampness left patches in country of nuts and thorns of ministers who should require companies to prevent wastage of that we could rightly call most valuable resource on Earth.
Oh, good. At least I managed to form an almost closed system within this household. Washing up water straight on to the garden (I think there is way I can use it in toilets, but I haven’t posted it on YouTube yet), no bathtubs, plastic litter boxes and cigarette butts attached to everything in rainfall will ever return. It’s almost fun if you have the right mindset. But of of course we don’t work for shareholders are here.
I went for my first ever yoga class today. i was deep against in practice since the age of 30 I have been rewarded with the understanding that women did not watch like what in leggings because they went to yoga – they went to yoga because they looked like what in leggings. It was very liberating. But now all my perimenopausal friends swear by it and I gave in.
“I didn’t move for 45 years old,” I tell my teacher. She is laughing. I don’t know Why.
We begin. She looks flustered. “No, bend over,” she says. “Here.”
“I don’t bend over there,” I say.
“Everyone is like that,” she said. says.
“Well,” I says.
She maneuvers me into the most tender position in her flexible playbook. AT air fills with grinding sounds and bone dust. She is steps back summarize of her handiwork and I fall over like Del Boy falls through the bar.
We agreed that I would come back after six months of swimming relaxed my joints. Both of us know that I’m lying.
Dad’s birthday. we were going to go out but a) too hot and b) not stable enough on the leg he recently took off and attached again with a new a hip you can trust. So my grandson and I are going round to mom and dad for day.
“I like my grandparents” son says dreamily. “It’s so calm there.”
“Peaceful?” I say thinking of my mother, who didn’t sit down since 1977 and commonly known as Noisemaker 2000.
“Yes he says. “Grandma is always busy but you can just join in or leave her alone. And grandfather is always silent and cooks sausages for me.
“Understood,” I say, although my experience of Grandma’s job is a little different. i was formed in crucible of shouted commands to bring hammers, spirit levels, two by four, light tank divisions or whatever else she urgently needed complete unexpectedly defiant DIY project/Appendix. He has only known her since the mid-70s, when she had only energy and ambition. of thirty-year-old.
“AND house carefully, and you know when it’s meal time and they never have writing deadline and I’ll get the pudding, he says.
“Enough with you,” I say.
I met somebody. Somebody new. We don’t have much to do with each other, but just something between us know? She makes me laugh, she makes the day better when our paths cross. just something in between us. Yes. I want do move. I would like us become friends.
How, I wonder, is this done? I have never been active made friend before. Installed out with the goal, I mean, is to make friends with someone. So far it’s always been semi-forced result of circumstance. At school you just buddy with who doesn’t beat you up too often. The university is the one whose bookshelf contents and drinking habits are closest match your own. AT work you link with whoever you find crying in toilet and vice versa. And if you have children, all local mothers become, if not friends, then comrades in adversity. I’ll see your battle buddies and lift you two up women with tears of the fourth degree any day of a week.
But now I want to do this new woman, with who I don’t have of these connections, my friend. What am I doing? ask her round for coffee? I don’t know if we get on good enough one-on-one for it should be worth cleaning house. Suggest cinema Or going to the theatre? If she agrees, I know we shouldn’t be. Just keep enjoying our random crossovers and hope she has some clues? Seems, on balance, best way.
Finally received round listen to “The Silent Mind” presented by psychologist and writer Charles Fernyhow on Radio 4, inspired by a recent viral tweet: “Today I found out not everyone has an internal monologue and it ruined my day.”
I discovered this phenomenon at the university. There was a load of us corridor cladding outside bar late one night, quite tired, slightly drunk, and one of our room sighed and said “You don’t wish in voice in your head would just shut up for one a single minute? Half the assembly murmured heartfelt agreement. Another half watched in complete bewilderment. I have never seen the abyss of understanding split group in two so fast or so thoroughly.
Probably obviously I was in in group Which is constantly tormented by the inner voice. My best friend was in another. When he didn’t speak or think intentionally (“Debate, let’s think, you fucking idiot! You’re destined to be a writer. Do better! like this is? No, I won’t shut up. Who are you to tell me what to do?”) There was silence.
We thought that “they” were crude, primitive creatures doomed to life. of thoughtless, inconsolable work. AT fact, they became successful, balanced and even better paid individuals, while “we” plunged into depression, neurosis and freelancing. Verily, the unexamined life is much more worth life.