Tuesday, 29 March 2011

Funny thing life...


Mark and I say this to each other at least once a week. The moving forward through the various stages of our exsistances, the seasonal comings and goings, the familiar, the uncharted...
Had a good chat with above pictured boy person of family this morning on the usual walk to college. He has suddenly made a leap forward in the life thing. The realisation that what you get out of life genreally depends on what you put into it. This is a wonderful moment, if it will last, less nagging re homework etc. Ezra has an interesting mix of genes from us, as far as learning goes, with French for example I muddle through, unashamed of errors, picking up mostly from what I hear/see in conversation, lazy? possibly, to busy to really make time...Mark is very different. He constructs perfectly all grammer, works hard at it, enjoys the learning proccess, takes time even though busy. I think Ezra is in the middle somewhere, but I hope he leans in Mark's direction for the school work now. On the other hand he is becoming a fine drummer, impossible to teach, he has picked it all up from listening, years of table tapping, something to be said for finding the way yourself too.
Part of this mornings chat included the recounting of a dream in which he was living in a small basement of a factory making buttons, while his friends were outside being well known rugby players/writers etc...
He asked me if he didn't do well at school would he not be successful in life, big question for 7.30 the morning, and very important to reply properly even if one is still mentally in bed. I seemed to say the right things, he went off determined to do well in his evaluation in French, having STUDIED for it, a possible first.
I watched him turn the corner, and walked home head full of the memories of his stages so far in life...

Wednesday, 16 March 2011

A lasting impression.


I liked this lady, somebody else did too. She has been reposing on a sunny step overlooking the sea in Cerbere since 1940.

Wednesday, 2 March 2011

Time lost.


The brain, as I and many thousand others have observed is...complex, to say the least.
I once heard a memorable program on the devine radio 4 by a very eminent prof of the brain lady who described the emotional part of the brain as a series of tiny see-saws.
I always remember this when experiencing a day of 'ups and downs', such as yesterday.
The morning was dullish but satisfactory in acheiving 'stuff'. Washing, shopping, trip to insurance broker to ask why we had an unfathomably weird letter from them, which they in turn had no idea about either, etc etc. Home, lunch, went to make several boring but important phone calls....no sign of phone book, slim orange thing pictured above. I bought this because it is bright orange and thus CANNOT be lost. Spent about an hour looking all over the house. First in casual hopeful way, of course it would just be under a pile of papers. Not. Then in more intense way, possible sensible places, in-tray, drawers that contain important items etc. Then in deranged, irritable way, fridge, sock drawer, dog beds etc. Nowhere.
Cloud of thick grey descended, made sure that everyone else joined in, as I wanted to share my fury. Dogs sulked, cat went out into the rain, and Ezra became strangely helpful. Tried the 'count one's blessing thing. No good. I knew what I was cross about on a world scale was so pathetic that it could not register, but the day continued thus, briefly up-lifted during a gardening forage.
Tried different looking techniques from time to time, quick furtive scramble through piles I had already looked at, a nonchalant glance under the sofa..nothing. Accepted I would have to find all the numbers another way, then I found it. In Ezra's room, under a massive pile of electronic bits I was moving so he would be able to find the bed.
Mood lifted, the lights came on, the dogs smiled, Everything for just a moment was completly perfect...in fact has continued to be so, despite sullen grey drizzel outside, and the fact that all the boring phone calls still have to be made.