I had a wonderful time and we all laughed and sang our hearts out - isn't it wonderful when there are enough men with great voices there at rehearsal at any one time who do not waver but belt out their harmonies with confidence??? Love it. Everyone raises their game then. However, if the men are wavering, heaven help the lot of us. Last night, they were stars. There were over 90 of us. Rehearsals are once a week but on different days each week to accommodate those with other commitments. And this way more people get to join in. So we all sang wonderfully well and even our very hard to impress conductor(s) said wow - where did that come from then! Les Mis last night and more West Side Story. I am so glad I went out in the cold.
And here are a couple of things I thought of after yesterday's post, under the heading of Things I have Learned (Finally)(Reluctantly)(With Great Difficulty).....
- I used to move fast. Everywhere. Impatience was one of my less than stellar attributes, and I used to get extremely impatient. Hmmm. Actually, I still do at times. Sigh. Lesson One. Linds, you will slow to the pace of a snail and learn to put up with it and everyone will get impatient with you. Oh yes. Just this morning, the DHL delivery man departed BEFORE I could get to the door. And that doddery old woman in the supermarket? Hello? That is me. Groan. Be nice to
meher. - People who walk with sticks are invisible. Take a look around when next you go out.
- Disabled parking bays. Hah. I have a blue badge. I get to park outside the door. Well, I could, if other perfectly able bodied people did not park in bays reserved for ME. And when I asked one if he had a badge, he replied no. So I asked very politely, why he parked in the bay reserved for disabled badge holders, he replied - because it is closer to the shop. What of it. I nearly kneecapped him with my stick. And another thing I have learned is not to judge people who park in these bays and have badges who do not LOOK disabled. I admit, with shame, that I used to wonder myself sometimes. What a lesson. I look perfectly normal. I have said it before. Pain is invisible. The badges are hard enough to get, believe me. If you have one, you NEED one.
- Boom or Bust, when interpreted physically, as in doing way too much then collapsing, is as dangerous as the financial version of it. And we know all about the cost of the financial version of it, don't we now. As in increased tax, VAT, everything on the earth etc etc etc. There will always be a Bust. I keep re-learning this one. Daily. Sigh. I am a work in progress.
So if you happen to see an older lady hobbling through Waitrose (the aisles are wider, the coffee shop classy and you get to pat the laptops) Tesco or Sainsbury, with a screwed up face, and a stick, who zapped her car into the disabled badge parking place at speed outside the door, please remember, she may not be as grumpy as she looks. She may just be in pain, having a bad day, but determined to get out of the house and have a LIFE. Even if the supreme achievement of the day is a trip to the supermarket.
She may just be me.
And now I am off to lunch with a friend. There are some really lovely perks in this new way of life, you know!
PS..... the first snowdrops are out in the garden!
6 comments:
I just love you, Linds! You are so wise and so clever.
And yes, singing does lift the soul. Do you have performance dates set? Will there be more than one? I absolutely love singing with a large group of people who can really sing. It is invigorating. I would love to sing the kind of music you are doing. I wish I had more time to do more than just the Christmas concert with the community chorale. Maybe someday when I'm "really" retired!
I love the things you have learned, and your words to the wise should be sufficient!
Oh I'd love to have been a fly on the wall listening to the music. I'm so glad that you "push through" and live your life. It's inspirational. I, on the other hand, am having a great deal of trouble doing that very thing. I don't want to go out today, but I shall and I'll be thinking of you. Oh, and I will try to remember all that you've explained here. Yay for snowdrops!
Linds, I love this post. I relate to most of the things in it. Except for the stick I am now disabled too, and I too get very grumpy when able bodied YOUNG people take our spots to park.
I dreamt last night that someone called me a sour faced old bat. Pain does cause lines one does not realise are visible!
I would love to see those snowdrops, have always loved the fresh green and white flowers.
The great thing about a stick is that it doubles as a weapon. Don't you wish you'd whacked that twit with it?
This time last year I would have loved to have had a disabled badge, as I hobbled about like a snail. They don't issue badges for people waiting for hip replacements, or at least not at my age. Strange things caused me problems, I could limp up slopes and down if not too steep, but if the path sloped up on the left and down on the right I had serious problems trying to keep upright. I learnt a lot at that time about other people, comments such as 'Don't go that way its a bit slippery' when someone saw me with my stick. As you say other people with sticks had been invisible till then. I hope now I can walk almost normally, I will remember the lessons I learnt at that time.
Snowdrops out - how lovely!! This post is another chapter in your book, Linds - you could call it "Life with a Stick". Just like that little paper you found this week, so will going back to these posts one day be quite the experience - full of memories!
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