The last few weeks have been busy. two of them shop-sitting again gave me the thrill of being retired all over again. Phew what a relief! It did sell some local books by local people which was what it was designed to do but I don't think I shall do it again. Then there was Jane's book launch at which wethe writer's group were invited to read some of our work. I chose to read folk tale - more amusing I thought, because most folk have a limited tolerance for poetry.When it came to the day I was so nervous (unike me, I thought I was thespian manqué) that I nearly copped out with asthma or some south trumped up excuse then pulled myself together and enjoyed the experience after all. It sold me four of my little books which was highly satisfactory.
I needn't have worried about the tolerance of the audience for poetry. I'd underestimated the variations i our collective talents and as almost everyone had gone for something light it held them. jane was, naturally the star with her third book, this time culled from her time as a District Nurse. She is a tiny lady with a puckish face and a sense of humour to match.
I'm not putting Jane's full name here, or the title of her book, because of internet links, which is a shame but I prefer to preserve some anonymity. It enables me to relate jolly snippets like the following:
A beautiful picnic area in woodland has become notorious site for snagging a shag. It has close access to a long, generally deserted beach, where I used to walk my badly behaved Jack Russell because there were no joggers for her to attack (she hated joggers) or children to frighten (she hated children) or woolly dogs to terrorise (she hated wooly coated dogs).
A Irish lady of my acquaintance went to walk her own dog there one evening en route to pick her children up from the school where Sandy goes. As they don't get out till 9 pm it was getting dusk so she was surprised how many cars there were also parked. On her way back from her walk a man approached her and started a conversation about the weather, but at the same moment her mobile rang. She said she was sorry but she had to go pick up her kids. Later she told a friend how unusual it was to sees many cars in that place and that they all had their boots open. With a laugh her friend told her that it's a signal telling other parkers you are up for it. I have no idea what the term is for this. I knew about dogging but my education has a gap. Maybe it's booting.
Another friend, after howling with laughter, said she could imagine sitting in the car, seeing someone approach and closing the boot hastily if you didn't fancy the person. Then all the cars would be having their boots go up and down. Like a car convention.
I know someone who would have been there like a rat up a drainpipe if it had been happening ten years ago.
On the sad side I also heard, about three months late, that a good friend who went to the USA and married, finally very happily, for the third (or fourth?) time, died of prostate cancer. He had survived for 6 years at stage 4 which is phenomenal. Losing touch at our age is NOT a good thing. He wasn't much given to chatting on Facebook, just set links to Youtube talks on enlightenment which I tended to ignore and when he went silent I just thought he'd given up trying to help people who weren't responsive... and perhaps I didn't think at all, being obsessed with my own life. When I heard I checked out his site and read what his local friends said. He found the enlightenment he had been seeking for many years toward the end and was wonderful to be with. Hope to see you in the hereafter Barry!
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