I’m feeling rather embarrassed.
I was checking the blog from this time last year to see how the sweet peas were progressing, to compare them with this year's weedy batch
and I found out that on May 17th 2021 I had written a post saying I needed a break from the blog. I bade you goodbye and said I didn’t know when I’d be back…in a month or a year. Then two weeks later there I was blogging again, and my family were teasing me about it. I had completely forgotten about this blog-tiredness that happened almost exactly a year ago. Maybe it has now become a seasonal thing. Maybe when the spring arrives for real in Derbyshire something happens to my blogging brain.
Anyway, enough of this. Reading posts from last year I also discovered I had given up watching Neighbours, having watched it for 35 years. It’s confession time: I don’t know how long after, but I started watching it again, and I shall do so until it ends here in August. It will be a sad day. Neighbours provides me with 25 minutes of mindless and enjoyable relaxation (detailed here on the blog.) I know it’s tosh, but it is a wonderful way of switching off my brain.
This may sound odd, but when I’ve been painting for three hours non stop I get tired. I expect it’s to do with the intense concentration, even if it is lightened by old radio sitcoms playing in the background - stuff like Dad's Army and After Henry and Whatever Happened to the Likely Lads? and Second Thoughts. I do so like James Bolam. And I haven't mentioned Ed Reardon's Week which I love so much I have bought almost every series on Audible.
I do listen to books on Audible too, but I'm very picky about the reader's voice. I commend to you The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton and The Enchanted April by Elizabeth von Arnim, the latter read beautifully by Eleanor Bron.
But back to the telly. I am not the only writer (blimey, I just called myself a writer again) who likes watching rubbish on TV. In this very nice book I am reading, which is like a blog in print form written by a nonagenarian
The widely esteemed writer Jan Morris (you know who I mean - the famous travel writer who changed sex - Sorry! Transitioned! - in 1972) and who died two years ago at the age of 94 writes that her two favourite TV programmes were Two and a Half Men and Mrs Brown's Boys (oh horror). If someone published by Faber and Faber can admit to watching the latter then I feel perfectly comfortable with telling you that I am still watching Neighbours.
Something odd happened this week, something Dave calls the Library Angel. Someone from my Quaker meeting gave us a talk about Julian of Norwich. I was pleased to hear the talk because all I knew about the woman is that she was an Anchorite who was immured in a cell for 30 years, and she said 'All shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.'
I have never found the saying much comfort because there are so many things that are obviously 'not well' and never will be. Later the same evening I was watching an episode of Call the Midwife in which one of the nuns was having a depressive breakdown. A sister tried to comfort her with this very same quote and poor Mary Cynthia rebuffed her saying that it wasn't true.
It's odd though, because I do like the quote from The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel: 'It'll be all right in the end, and if it isn't all right, it's not the end.' I find this very comforting, and yet it is not dissimilar to what Julian of Norwich said. Perhaps it's a little more modest and so it's easier to believe.
A local footpath I walked on yesterday with my daughter-in-law, the lovely Jaine, who introduced me to the Best Exotic quote. |
3 comments:
Hi Sue, So glad that you're going to carry on blogging. I enjoy everything about it. It always brightens my day when I see that you've posted a new one. Sally x
On Saturday I nearly wrote you a tearful email about my husband not being willing to keep me company while watching the Jubilee - then I remembered you and Christmas and it brought a new perspective and some peace- all thanks to you and your blog. I loved the razzmatazz while sadly none of my family were in the least bit interested.
I would definitely get the bunting out in your honour and entertain you with trifle and other goodies.
In my life, your blog is an institution now, and long may it continue - although you are neither bound by vow or duty and so (although you would be missed) are totally absolved if the day should come when you completely and finally feel enough is enough.
[the grandchildren not being keen on lemon and orange flavours we made our platinum pudding with chocolate Swiss roll, strawberry jelly and added smarties to our chocolate bark. For those not in the know see the Fortnum and mason website and look up the platinum pudding competition - also on BBC iPlayer]
Regards to all
Jenetta
Sally - thank you! That's such a nice comment.x
Jenetta - I hope you enjoyed the Jubilee on your own anyway, even if I am a republican.
Yes - take heart - the Jubilee comes but rarely whereas Christmas comes every year.
I am honoured you'd get out bunting for me.
What a lot of utterly lovely blog readers I have!
I will keep on keeping on like Alan Bennett, as long as I can. And next time I tell you I am blog-tired, please tell me I will get over it. x
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