This has been a quiet week in that I haven’t been anywhere much or done anything much and I am very much in favour of those. I have done all of my chores and as I write I am still languishing in my jimjams and ensconced under my electric throw on my bed like a character from a Sheridan play. Life is stressful. Downtime is essential.
I thought there wouldn’t be much to say. I didn’t even manage a picture of the glorious spirit-lifting sunny weather at autumn afternoon training with Fergus in Edenbridge on Friday. Here is a picture of him on Tuesday morning, however, not 24 hours after a visit to the groomer’s, addressing his pH balance in his favourite muddy puddle.
There is much to say, though, because there is always much to say, and being not so busy leaves ample space for cogitation and reflection. Here it is:
A little bit of politics
It was a busy weekend for our local LibDems, taken up by doing a bit of canvassing (see above picture for vague pun) and delivery among the good people of Beckenham. We try to talk and listen to residents regularly to make sure they know that we’re not only interested in them for the three weeks before an election, unlike some other parties I could mention. *casts sidelong look* It was a chance to make sure that people know about the local party email newsletter that contains all sorts of local news articles and to survey their local priorities.
You know, introvert me used to dread political canvassing but it is an essential part of getting to know what exercises local people so it has to be done. These days I quite like it. People who answer the door, a self-selecting audience, I know, are generally receptive. I knocked on the door of one couple in their late 80s and to my surprise they were already receiving the fortnightly email and keen to chat about world events, the forthcoming US election in particular. It was a good chat but in the end I ended the conversation sooner than I would have liked, worrying that the chilly wind would make them ill (and therefore less likely to vote for us? Possibly)
This week’s grrr
A quiet week may be a good time to mull and contemplate and also to seethe and overthink. My main rage-inducing moments this week and indeed, at any time, have been caused by micro-aggressions. Explaining these to people who haven’t ever encountered them, it’s hard to put across how non-trivial they are. All I can say is that racist micro-aggressions accumulate like, I don’t know, mercury, inside the mind and poison your trust in people. I was moved to write about them in this post. Let us move on and say no more about this, except that the next time I encounter this person, they are not having any more of my mental space for free. Just no.
Favourite things
One thing that will instantly -10% people in my mind - not that I’m judgemental in any way, Dear Reader - is when they say “I don’t like musicals.” Yes, all right. Here’s your token. Go and join the cool kids. eyeroll emoji. To me it’s the same as saying “I don’t like vegetables,” or “I don’t like Germans,” a meaningless, oversimplifying generalisation that marks you out as a bit of a dimwit. Don’t, I beg you, ever say this.
Now, it might be that you don’t like the music of, say, Andrew Lloyd-Webber though even he wrote some stonking tunes in his time. But how can you say that you don’t like SONGS? Songs, for goodness, sake! The embodiment of emotions put to music! It’s a nascent theory of mine, I admit, but perhaps people who don’t like songs are just a bit dead inside.
The reason the person in question gave - and people usually don’t give reasons - is that it all seemed a bit unrealistic when people burst into song in the middle of a scene. Hello? Do you know me at all? I do this all the time. And also, mate, you’re watching a play at a theatre and you’re talking about unrealistic? Really?
Anyhow it IS all about the song. And musicals are a great source of wonderful songs. I wanted to insert a theme and variations playlist here but it seems that Apple won’t allow me to share playlists.
Here is Rogers and Hammerstein’s classic My Favourite Things from The Sound of Music three ways:
The original , featuring Beckenham girl, Ms Julie Andrews
Then this version on mega jazz guitarist Grant Green’s Matador album, that I’ve now had as an earworm for days. I love how McCoy Tyner’s relentless driving piano pushes through the melody.
Finally, there’s Carmen Souza’s cover. I adore this version and its quirkiness. I saw her at Ronnie’s early last year and was grinning like an idiot from the first note of her set.
Anyway, this is just an example. It is all about the song.
Jingle bells
Master Fergus is a clever lad. From when he was just a few months old, and able to reach this back door key, he has jingled it with his long nosey to be let out into the garden for a pee or just to sit and watch the birds for a while. He loves birdwatching.
Recently, though, I have noticed that he jingles it when he wants something or just for attention. This week we were occupied with, I don’t know, the supper or a conversation about our forthcoming bathroom works and he must have felt left out - flatcoats have serious FOMO - and so jingly jingly. I went to let him out and he did not want to go out. He wanted a cuddle. And that is what jingling the keys now means.
I am gradually moving favourite blog posts from my WP MsAlliance.me blog to here. I’m currently up to 2014. Do feel free to have a read.
See you next week. Have fun!
G x
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