which are totally lacking at the moment. Can you play an alphabet game using a first letter for a word which is conspicuous for its absence? I need to get away from ‘I’. ‘I’ is not a good first letter. ‘I’ is too introspective. I’ve considered and discarded dozens of words, none of which are of any use because I just wouldn’t know what to say about them. Impudence, ignorance, inhospitality, intolerance, indigent, impetigo, indifference, all lovely words, but it needs a philosopher to give them body.
I is also for having being ill again, with an attack starting while we were having a delightful picnic on the terrace at Malvern Theatre in Worcestershire. Between the two acts of the last of the three Henry VI plays (we saw all three in one week), alarm bells were rung, and a lovely paramedic came to my aid, lugging his portable ECG and heavy apparatus, and in an alcove between the door to the cinema and the staircase to the theatre he sat me down, leant over me and undid the buttons of my blouse; as he still couldn’t get all his little stickers in place, he reached round me and undid my bra. Nobody has done that to me for a very long time, I’d quite forgotten the feeling. Pity I wasn’t wearing a dress, or maybe not, because as he was completing the readings the double doors to the cinema opened. The film had ended and I sat in the foyer, partly undressed, with the strains of The Bugle Boy accompanying my disgrace. The floor manageress and an usher played human shield, and the paramedic leaned in bit more.
All the while the ECG was bleeping its disorganised notes until my heart decided that that really wasn’t an acceptable rhythm and showed us how it was done. Another emergency over. The merest hint that a hateful spell in hospital is on the cards and my heart stops playing silly-buggers and behaves itself.
Since then I’ve taken things easy. I’ve been somewhat preoccupied with getting better again and blogging and blog visiting had to take a back seat.
However, gardener and I managed a morning in the garden, with a very long tea break half way through.
Gardener wasn’t himself either, he said his ‘sad’ is back
A robin kept both eyes on us,
in fact, you could say we were under close
(ha, inspection, another ‘I’ is for . . . . )