No Poles Today

No Poles today. Just a morning phone listening. Spoke to a 75 year old man who lost his wife a month ago. I can't begin to imagine how dreadful that must be. They had been together for 42 years. He was devastated. He was guilty he hadn't been there when she died. He had gone home from the hospital for a rest. He hadn't felt anything until after the funeral. When everyone had gone home he lay on the bed and cried. Of course he realised that he was never going to be the same. His other half had died.

A Drizzling Day

Deaf Collie Sheepdog Beth is sitting on her cushion on her trunk by the first floor window looking out on this drizzly day. She does forlorn as expertly as only dogs can do. Nice, though, how forlorn can turn to ecstatic tail-wagging bundle when you go over to tickle her belly. Beth and I rub along really well. She keeps a careful eye on me - even insists on accompanying me to toilet - lets out the odd sigh when things are going too far and creates the constant need to hoover carpets and clear up her fur.

Just had an EFL lesson with Polish young lady. Really good English and such a nice person. She had to leave early to get the results of her blood test from the doctor. What is a girl in her twenties getting blood tests for? I do hope she is OK. God / Fate seems to have a pretty nasty way of dealing horrible cards to nice people in my experience.

Need to start writing again. I paid for a course in creative writing two months ago. The money keeps leaving my Mastercard each month but I can't bring myself to send my writing. Not really very sensible. I also have a job application which just sits on my desk. I really am becoming institutionalised on my "50 years old" desert island.

It's never too late

Right here we go! I've been at starter's orders for the last fifty years and now I'm off!

It may be a late start. You may want to access Becket's "Krapp's Last Tape" to categorise this latest attempt to make a start and a go at it.

This really is a message in a bottle going out to sea! I am not expecting anyone to read it. Here I am, stranded on this desert island. The desert island is called "fifty years old". I knew I was heading towards it five years ago. I suppose we all do when we're 45. But that was when I jumped ship. Just couldn't bare being onboard anymore. Wasn't sure that I knew where the boat was going. Didn't really recognise the crew running the ship. Didn't know that I wanted to go where they were going. Went against the prevailing wisdom that it is better to be on board a ghost ship than floating alone on the open sea.

Probably could have signalled some other boats in those early days and got back aboard. Tried after a couple of years to work aboard any old ship just to be with other people and earn a bit of money but couldn't cope with the lack of any sense of destination. So I swam back to my desert island.

When I say a desert island that isn't altogether true. I have a gay shipmate who I am sharing my space with. And a deaf collie dog! She is constant companionable shipmate egging me on as only a deaf dog can do! My shipmate keeps me sane. I'm not sure whether I am his man-Friday or he is mine! I suppose you'd call us both "versatile". Anyway he is pretty practical and sensible and forages away from the island for food. He is pretty successful and can navigate his way through the sea pretty well. He isn't the most communicative of mates and his pretty busy with his own life. He isn't yet stranded on the "fifty year old" desert island.

Anyway enough for now. I have a Pole coming for a lesson. Passing through and passing the time of day. Will try and write more tomorrow.