Monday 6 May 2013

When Life is like Ketchup

Many years ago, someone suggested that life is like ketchup - you shake the bottle for ages and nothing happens, and then it comes out in dollops.

Well, I came home from Laos to dollops of it.

You know what it's like - Mrs Next Door phones to ask you to look after Little Jenny while she goes into hospital to have another baby, of course you will, when? Now? Now? Well, of course.

Get down, Little Jenny, you say, kindly, when she climbs on the freezer that is in the middle of the kitchen floor because it doesn't fit in the space the old one came out of even though you measured it twice. Be careful, you will fall. Woops. It's all right, have some ice cream; oh, no freezer, no ice cream, nor frozen peas to put on your arm that looks a funny shape. Oh heck, how to tell Mrs Next Door Little Jenny has broken her arm.

So the phone rings. Old Aunt Gladys as put her head in the gas oven - she's fine, but in hospital and wonders if you can go and check she turned the gas off. Of course, when? Now? Now ... of course. Even though she lives 200 miles away and has neighbours but they don't have a key because, well, you never know with neighbours do you (her words, not yours). Maybe you can take Little Jenny to A&E in the hospital where Aunt Gladys is. But Little Jenny will only get into the car if you give her ice cream, because you promised ...

We all have times like this. Even so, nothing quite prepares you. There are moments of clarity, when you understand exactly what needs doing and can do it. And other moments when common sense disappears over the horizon with its arse on fire.

Slowly - so slowly it feels as if it will never happen - everything settles. You peer above the parapet to find that the sun still rises, the magnolia is blooming and you are amazingly, here to tell the tale.

That's the bit I've reached. There are still loose ends to tie up, but the world is reshaped am I'm fine. Well, in need of a little R and R. So I bought a flight to Venice - at the end of next week. It's what I do to reward myself after times like this.

What do you do, at those dust-settling times, to look after yourself? Your reward for keeping the show on the road as best you can?

12 comments:

  1. Venice!!!!! Lovely!!. What I do at dust-settling moments, which rarely occur, is hit the duvet with a book and lose myself therein. Or else go for a long walk by myself and let the brain settle. So glad you are beginning to see ''the wood for the trees'. And looking forward to sharing Venice: the Big Adventure.

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    1. Oh those duvet-with-a-book days. Bliss. We could all do with more of those.

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  2. Is that all true? Your neighbours girl broke her arm while in your care and you took her 200 miles to hospital?! Crikey! I'm smack bang in the middle of a double ketchup dollop but it's writing and researching so at least I may earn some cash from it! Wish one of them had turned up a few months ago when I had time though.

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    1. No, Ros - none of it is true. But Life has dumped on me in a big way since I got back from Laos, and it was more fun to write it like this than to whinge! (And it didn't earn me any cash!)

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  3. Venice sounds like exactly the right way to treat yourself after being dumped on. I hope it is beautiful, sunny, tranquil and full of music, preferably from a handsome gondolier serenading you :-) I'm so sorry to hear about the dumping, though, and I really do hope it's over. As you've seen from my blog, I have made sure I have an escape route for such times. I sit on my chair in the garden, talk to the sheep and drink several toasts to them in my favourite red wine. PS. I'm glad the broken arm and head in the gas oven aren't true!

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    1. I should have said dolloping, not dumping!

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    2. Dollops or dumps - both work for me! And, even though broken arm and gas oven weren't true, nothing would surprise me after the past few months. And thanks for gondolier thoughts - that will help keep me going till I fly.

      Talking to sheep - now there's a great idea! Will have to try that next time.

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  4. Sorry to hear that things haven't been going according to plan Jo.....still, Venice sounds as if it will be the perfect me pick up! Have a lovely, lovely time....

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    1. Thank you - am off at the end of next week, and no doubt will blog about it1 Hope you are ok.

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  5. Oh I know times like those.I had granddaughter 20mths all week end and on Monday I had little boy I look after (nearly 3) I was running from room to room fetching and carrying because you can't leave them alone for a second or something happens and they don't give me a minutes peace.Who was the tiredest when they went home? Hubby who had done nothing to help.
    Lovely your going to Venice I'm flying out to Turkey the same day and boy do I need a rest.

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    1. Don't suppose you are changing flights in Paris ...

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