Oh muted world (diary of blocked ears, day 4)

Oh muted world... I miss the sounds of nuance, subtle inflections during conversations, the heady whispers of secrets shared and the lowered voices intoning information. Though I’ll admit it’s generally better to dim the gigantism of children’s voices that echo in our small home lest the echoes reverberate in my head (I have endless patience right now... I wonder why?)

But still the birds sing and I can hear them, muffled may they be through my imperfect hearing. Still the air holds songs of jets and engines high and low and I can trace them though not as accurately. Loudest yet is my own heartbeat and breathing as though my own self is larger than life. This irks me somewhat. I prefer my presence to be felt but not overbearing. Here in my muted world it’s all about me and this makes me uneasy. A small lump also sits in my throat - perhaps resident to remind me of tears not shed (though many have been this past year) and yet so many are waiting, such is the depth of my grief so often hidden and obscured by banter and comedy, busyness and feigned candour. To pause seems akin to death as reality pierces my heart over and over. 

But still the birds sing, their tune a joy and a wonder in this bright sun, easing the pain of a thousand years I feel. Tribute to the breaking spring. No toiling or spinning here, a reminder that all shall be made new and of a larger love still at work in everything. 

More horizontal epistles (of mild rudeness)

I was thinking about friendship today.  Friendship and adulting.  The tiniest things can really make all the difference.  For example, there are certain thresholds you cross in order to cement a friendship; things I think as grown ups we take for granted.  Adulting is a fantastic occupation but requires enormous strength (for me at any rate).  I was at a dinner party hosted by a friend the other day and we were introduced to a new associate who we didn't know well but wanted to get to know more.  We shared the cooking and participated in conversation and then sat down in the lounge for after dinner drinks and more chats. Now at this point I have to share that my friend is the type of person who likes to present a pristine image of calm, warm, mildly perfectionist demeanour.  Everything has its poise and place.  She is a *lady*.  When it was time for our new associate to leave we got up to show them to the door but as we did my friend let rip a rather large, bubbly-sounding fart (the perils of chick peas in my humble opinion).  The grown up thing occurred in that we all pretended we heard nothing and I kept it together, which, for those of you who know me the most, is a miracle in itself, and continued to wish our new friend a good evening.  A win for Mim.  For now at least.  However, like a brewing flatulent itself, after they'd left I turned to my friend, gave them a big hug, thanking them for such a lovely evening and while they were still in my embrace I couldn't resist any more.  I whispered into their ear, "I just want you to know... that I totally heard *that*", at which point my friend collapsed in my arms and let out a big sigh, "ohhh nooo I'd hoped no-one heard..." Quite how anyone could have missed it is beyond me.  Triumphant adulting. Furious giggling ensued afterwards.  Adulting suggests that we pay no attention to these digestive pyrotechnics for the sake of courtesy and politeness.  Friendship bends those rules.  We crossed a threshold that evening and have been close ever since.  

Horizontal epistles

Lying on my side looking out the window from my parents' bedroom I have occasion to marvel once more at the sky and the landscape in all its youthful beauty as spring emerges.  It feels like a it's been a long winter but this is more an internal situation.  The sky is a patchwork of cotton balls and grey-white blankets and although it's mostly cloudy it still feels bright.  This view never tires.  I've observed this patch of sky for 39 years as it arcs over my childhood home.  It's been greeted by all the things that stirred my heart and made me fall in love with the sky: planes, microlights, helicopters, hot air balloons, airships (yes, even those rarities), birds of prey and thunderstorms.  This is the stuff of dreams and adventures.  And I'm here once more to rekindle that fire in my heart and my stomach. 

Well, truth be told, I'm here because I'm unwell and life has had to slow but I'm taking advantage of this time of respite and recovery.  I'm also taking a little license by using a title familiar to any Adrian Plass lovers.  I'm no Andromeda Veal - or Adrian Plass for that matter - but the title amuses me and is apt during this era of bedridden lurgy. 

During these past few days the precipitation seemed to glisten as it fell, like some sparkling gems were falling.  It turns out it was sleet falling in the faint sunlight.  Spectacular.  Even if it snuck in a little wintry shower during my springtime celebration.  But this is April and according to Dad it's normal.  Trueness: it snowed heavily on my grandmother's 80th birthday (April 8th) in 2008.  I love these little memories and anecdotes on weather. 

Dad kept a daily record of the weather and temperatures here from the 1960s all the way up to the early 00s, when, after another battering from a stormy season, his weather box finally gave up the ghost.  'Twas a sad day and we have tried to hook him up to the latest gadgets but he opted to retire from this long-haul hobby.  But if anyone wants to know what the weather was doing "on this day, 1977" Dad is your man.  Well, for this part of the world anyway.  My love for weather and the sky comes from him I suspect.  The utter geekdom about planes and aviation is something else entirely. 

Apparently I could draw planes before I could write my name.  This continued into my teenage years when I flew solo in a light aircraft before I had passed my driving test.  Some might say I like to do things the hard way.  I say, well, yes... but isn't it also about carving ones own path?  Pioneering.  I don't know.  Look at the sky.  It does its own thing and we are affected by it all.  We can predict and forecast but never get it correct every time.  That's sort of how I see life.  Roll with the unpredictable.  It builds resilience. And makes for a good adventure.  Probably why I opted to learn to fly hot air balloons.  How do you steer a balloon? - any way the wind blows (cue a well-known Queen song).

Choonz

Music is life. I’ve decided to blog again and maybe share a few songs I think are anthems for the moment. Not necessarily indicative of any political mood but more my own mood. Just for funzies. If you want political or sarcastic see my other blog “Rabadashtheridiculous.blogspot.com”. Name refers to a Prince from C S Lewis’ The Horse and His Boy who made a mockery of decorum, gentility and public office, made some bad choices and ultimately the people (assisted by Aslan) deposed him. But enough of this.

Choons: right now I’m totally into Harmony Hall by Vampire Weekend. Usually I’d see the name of the band and think “whaaa?!” and wonder if it’s trying to appeal to a certain teenage demographic and so steer clear since I am most certainly not in that age category. Props go to Stephenie Meyer for making vampires mainstream and, well, a little lame, not to mention synonymous with teenage angst. Nice work, Music Producers. Somewhere in the hallowed halls of record production there’s clearly a department whose sole job is to find a suitable name from a vault of cookie-cutter boyband-sounding ham-fest names that they pluck these crazies from. I can imagine the board meeting. “You fellas have a great sound. We want to market you well so let’s give you a name that’ll appeal to the mainstream market of hormone-fuelled adolescents. Any ideas?”

Terrible band name aside though, this is a chooooon!! Harmony Hall!! I highly recommend it. Even if you feel a little guilty listening to a band who are likely idolised and fantasied over by kids a third of my age. Dangerous though. Stick this in your Apple Music or Spotify and they’ll start suggesting other tracks from “similar” bands. I threw Spotify a curve ball though. Created a playlist with this, then ACDC tracks, then a bit of T’pau etc. Mwahahaha..

Eclectic.

Yeah, music is life.