Thursday 5 April 2012

An insight

Well, it has been just over four weeks now since my mishap and I feel pretty much ok most of the time. So, I decided to see if I could write more than a two-sentence status update on facebook. Its a kind of experiment see. I need to know I still have all my marbles.

I have been making a lot of bread but I shall describe that elsewhere. Its very sequential and involves no decisions so I can do that.
Mrs E is in the kitchen making lovely things out of silver, as she does. My daughter is upstairs finishing a skirt on her sewing machine so I decided I would attempt this most miniscule act of creativity, as apart from the breadmaking (which i confess pleases me disproportionately), I have done very little except lie around watching science programmes on telly or walking.
I confess my brain is not yet up to scratch and so I apologise in advance for the probably poor quality of this post. But it's a start. Here is some of my bread. It's called "Fougasse" and was wonderful. I made the wine as well (plum). But alcohol has a powerful effect on me at the minute so I didn't finish the glass.
It has been an interesting month but not one I would care to repeat. I hope I shan't. But it has given me an insight into a few things, mainly, what it is like to find the world utterly confusing and completely bewildering.

My mother works at the Citizens Advice Bureau. It's a laudable way to sped one's spare time and I fear for it's continued existence in these austere times. I know the one occasion I had need of their help they were extremely helpful.It's quite handy to have someone in the family now who can advise on such things as employment law and consumer rights.
However, talking to her, I get the sense of the incredible complexity of modern life. A few hundred years ago, people had more serious worries certainly: Will there be enough for my children to eat? Will a marauding army come and burn our village down and kill us all? Will my children die of rickets/plague/a cut finger turned septicaemic?
But they had fewer and more tangible worries. Now life is so complex and so full of small but important details that can trip up even the most organised citizen; Have I filled in my tax return correctly? Is my car insured/taxed/MOTed? Do I have enough pension contributions to ensure I don't have to burn the furniture to keep warm when I retire? etc..

And so, not being of sound mind for a few weeks, with a brain running on far fewer cylinders than I am accustomed to, I have found many things utterly incomprehensible (like, more than two people in a room holding a conversation, for instance.)

So, when I hear of the plight of some poor folks who turn up at the C.A.B. with their IQ of 85 (as some must have if the average is set at 100 because that's how standard deviation works) with various forms they have to fill in because their job has gone away, there are no others and they are forced to claim benefits for a while, I think I understand a little of the bewilderment they must feel. No wonder they get in a muddle over things and get into debt.
For the first time, I am allowing the van insurance to be renewed automatically because I don't have the mental horsepower to phone up and compare the factors involved in choosing a (probably) cheaper provider. Normally, this would be a challenge to get the best deal. But I am, frankly, too thick to undertake it this year. Too Much Information.

And so, I now have a clearer perspective on how confusing the minutiae of everyday existence is in the 21st century for some people. Because frankly, befuddlement and consternation are common companions of mine at the moment when I contemplate the file of outstanding paperwork that I have stuffed in a drawer awaiting sorting out.

Anyway, enough of that: I was going to post a nice picture of some flowers to end on but blogger is acting up again so I can't. The bread pic took a quarter of an hour. I have been doing a lot of walking lately, as it's all I am allowed to do. On my wanderings, I have seen a lot of lovely things which I shall describe another time. But for now despite the neck-ache and throbbing cranium, I feel a reasonable sense of satisfaction that I can still string together some reasonable paragraphs without nodding off. Thank you for your tolerance :-) <-- uncharacteristic smiley.

4 comments:

Kay G. said...

Bread and wine, more understanding of people's troubles in life, a lot of walking...does this remind you of anyone? It's very obvious to me.
"Humbled for a season" was the line from our hymn this past Sunday, you should think that of yourself too. Happy Easter.
:-)

Librarian said...

The fact that Mrs. E. makes lovely things out of silver and your daughter can sew are two very intriguing bits of information - possibly, I am not the only one of your readers who would like to see pictures of lovely silvery things and individual fashion!

Your post is certainly of impressive length, and I can't say I detect a downhill slide in quality compared to the writing you did before. I hope writing all that did not mean you had to pay for it in the shape of headache again afterwards.

Perlnumquist said...

Thank you Kay. I do like Easter. Such a time of energy and fecundity.
As for the silvery things, well, I do not want to descend into shameless commercialism so I will email you the link to her etsy shop where you can see all the results of the takeover of the kitchen table. Shame you are not on FB as there are loads of pics there of both silver and sewing. I might put some photos on my other blog though.
I am relatively untroubled by headache this evening. I usually partake of strong drugs at bedtime to avoid the 4 a.m. waking with a pulsating skull.

lucy joy said...

So glad you're back (pretty much) to full strength. You've done remarkably well, not a hint of self-pity has been detected throughout.
I'm unable to chat via google talk, or send emails as I'm being closely monitored presently, it sucks!


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