creative – Rare Bit Blogging

Faced with mortality

3rd Sep 20239th Sep 2023 Rare Bit Blogging2 Comments

I’m in Wales looking after mum while my sister, brother in law and the boys are enjoying a well earned holiday in Turkey. It’s a full time job looking after mum. You wouldn’t think an 88 year old woman could be such hard work. I don’t feel comfortable leaving her alone for long. Her falls have become more frequent and she’s very frail. She does however have a huge appetite, which is a relief. She doesn’t have an appetite for life anymore though and who could blame her? I suspect she’s in quite a lot of discomfort and perhaps some pain and I’m certain the negative thoughts are on a continuous loop.

It’s day 3. I’ve asked her every day if she wants to do anything or if she’ll come for some air. She’s got a wheelchair now but I don’t think she’s used it yet. It’s parked in the garage, waiting, wheels poised still wrapped in their protective plastic packaging, ready for action and adventure – maybe a couple of hours at the seaside and a Mr Whippy or a trip to the shops. She doesn’t seem interested though so I won’t force the issue, but I’ll offer it up every day. I think we’d have fun.

I went for a walk at midday down to the stream and felt my mood lift after 10 minutes. I feel very unsettled here and it’s hard to get any focus. I need to practice and maintain some sort of routine so I’ve bought quite a lot of stuff and it’s all over the place – nothing’s where it should be. I packed my weights of course and it was arms and shoulders this morning. Did I feel like doing them? Probably not but I’m even more determined to stay strong after seeing how mum’s ageing. It’s legs tomorrow 😮‍💨 but my reward will be a walk in some picturesque scenery.

I’d walk for miles every day given half a chance. I feel slightly frustrated since Snowdon’s right there, a mere hour away. I asked earlier what time’s best for me to go out – the underlying message being what time are you most likely to fall?!! I have no idea how I’d react if she did but I’d rather be here. I purposely didn’t pack any serious walking gear to avoid the temptation of a longer walk, but the urge is there and it’s strong.

I’m so used to just thinking for myself that it can feel restrictive being responsible for another person, especially an elderly mother. There’s always something to do, even more so than when I’m at mine. Plants to water, bins to put out, animals to feed. I can’t switch off. I can’t at mine either mind you. I haven’t turned the telly on yet. I’d rather be outside. That’s my switch off zone.

I wish mum could see the magnificent hills, feel the lush grass under her feet, watch the sleepy cows grazing half heartedly in the sweltering midday sun, feel the refreshing coolness of the flowing stream water through her fanned (arthritic) fingers. Mother knows best, although she’d definitely benefit from exposure to a few rays of sunshine.

I go to her room and her head is bowed in contemplation. The osteoporosis makes her look like a table top. She went back to bed this morning. She said she still felt tired. I didn’t question it. She had a nap late yesterday afternoon while I was getting dinner ready. 5 minutes before I plated, I knocked but she was fast asleep. She stirred briefly and asked if it was time to go to work. Gulp.

It might be selfish of me but it’s made me think even more about how I want to go. If I had a choice, it’d be by heart attack halfway down Snowdon. Please 🙏

It absolutely blooming categorically definitely wouldn’t be death by cow stampede, which almost happened during my walk on Friday evening. I crossed a field on a well trodden footpath and halfway, a herd of cows took an interest in me. I walked on as calmly as I could. With a third of the field remaining, they somewhat disconcertingly gathered speed. I walked faster. So did the cows. I broke into a trot. They did too! I legged it towards the gate as fast as I could and got there by the skin of my teeth.

Lucky cow.

Thief!

18th Oct 201925th Oct 2019 Rare Bit BloggingLeave a comment

At work on Monday, I chased a shoplifter out of the shop. The fact he’d already stuffed his jacket with steaks is irrelevant. I’d spotted him on the CCTV monitor and buzzed for the manager. Seeing him make his way towards the doors, a surge of adrenalin sent me running along the aisles beyond the safe boundaries of the shop. I grabbed him by his sleeve. Behoodied, he turned and gave me a sideways glance before running for the bridge in the town centre. What would I have done? Tackled him and pinned him to the floor? Unzipped his jacket to liberate him of his precious meat? I half expected someone to help but it was too late. He was gone, along with a share of the profits. What fuelled me to risk life and limb for a rare bit hunk of rump? Anger actually. It flared up and when he turned to look at me, I wanted to scream at him to get a f**king job like the rest of us.

When I was about 10, I stole a sweetie necklace from the petrol station. I’ll never forget it. I was racked with guilt. I clearly still am.

Life’s been less eventful than last week. My wrist feels much better (thanks for asking) and doing very little practice was a wise move. I had an extremely fruitful fayre on Sunday, restoring my faith in them as a good business investment, the pinnacle being taking a deposit on the day. There’s no better feeling after a long hard day’s work flogging my wares, trying to convince potential clients that my harp and I really are the divine heavenly perfect finishing touch missing from their big day, and why wouldn’t everyone have live music at their wedding to make their day complete? Music is, of course, the proverbial cherry on the proverbial wedding cake but not everyone feels the same way I do about music and at the end of the week I often have to dig quite deep to keep my performer/saleswoman persona going. I miss my regular practice and, with fayre season in full flow, I’m going with that. There’s a lull until November and more paid playing work coming up, thank god.

A sense of play is fundamental to my wellbeing. I liken myself to a bowling ball swaggering playfully along the hardwood alley towards the ten (Twenty? Thirty? More?) pins of my life. Striking a few of them each week is a win. Today my focus is on socialising and my creative work. The cleaning can wait. Last night involved the cooking extravaganza I’ve been promising myself and I used up a lot of the veg I’ve been hoarding, some of it rather the worse for wear, bulk purchased to be incorporated into a mouthwatering menu of exciting exotic dishes. Running out of steam by 7pm, I made a jaw poppingly hot curry. The stew recipe I want to try will stew until next week. As for baking, I’m sure I’ve got a free rainy Sunday coming up. My current obsessions are food and exercise. It’s all about balance.

To socialising then. Last week I invited an interesting customer for a coffee. On Saturday I went on an 8 mile hike with 30 complete strangers. Once past the flush of inadequacy and awkward hellos and as long as I’m not the centre of attention, I’m fine. I’m really trying. Maybe I’m trying too hard.

Looking out this morning at an exquisite sky the colour of parma violets, I’m feeling ok about this time of year which can be challenging for many of us. The nights have drawn in and daylight comes at a premium. With less playing work than I’d like and significantly fewer gigs than last year, I might need to take on some extra shifts at the shop. Most of the time I’m ok with that and I veer between excitement and fear about exploring the new possibilities ahead of me.

Every time I cross the bridge over the stream that leads me to the shop, I pause to watch the ducks. Wearing a face like thunder, I lock my creativity safely in my car for the journey home which involves ranting and singing loudly after a few minutes post shift solemn silence. I watch the rowdy antics of my funny feathered friends. I listen to their comedic cacophonous quacks, and solemnly remind myself of the alternative – motorway journeys.

Have you ever worked on a shop floor? Looks easy doesn’t it but let me tell you it’s really hard work! My concern is always my hands, swiftly followed by my head. At times, I have to stop myself from nutting some customers and I’m learning not to take things personally at work.

I’m not much of a taker but I’m a thief too. I thieve from nature. I thieve from the handful of customers that vibrate on a higher frequency and I absorb their energy to power me through my shift. I still remember the man in a pink shirt who came in on a miserable September day and radiated joy and good vibes. We need more of that. My aim at the shop is to dish that out more generously than I receive it.

M came in and as I was chatting away with him, conscientiously doing his packing, we heard a woman’s voice. I checked my mobile and it wasn’t pocket phone. Was it the voice of god? Was she a woman after all? No. I’d been propping myself up against the till and had obliviously pressed the button panic button on the safety device I have to wear around my neck. Speak to her! exclaimed the manager. Slightly freaked out after my eventful day, I did and apologised. False alarm. Oops. I always worry I’m going to get sacked for being too slow and talking to customers too lengthily. My paranoia led me to believe somehow HQ had seen I hadn’t followed the protocol I learnt way back when I did my induction. For f**k sake.

Deadlines

11th Oct 201911th Oct 2019 Rare Bit BloggingLeave a comment

And so it happened. The thing I feared most since I started my Proper Job happened. I jammed my hand between the wall and a heavy roller cage laden high with cases of beer, wine and spirits. There’s irony for you. I was heaving and hefting, huffing and puffing to get the bastard thing up the ramp into the fridges and, assisted by K, got my hand jammed just above my wrist. Time froze, as did my wrist afterwards, plunged into ice water in the canteen sink. Lightning quick thinking from K – thanks. The shock and shooting pain brought sorrowful sobs from deep down inside. Five minutes later, ice pack on wrist and dosed up with ibuprofen, I was back at the tills. With over 2 hours left of my shift, I asked if my role could be limited to lighter work, a more desirable option than going home and having to call someone in. Being busy helped keep my mind off the disaster that befell me but as soon as there was a lull in traffic, tears started pricking my eyes as I saw what’s left of my playing career wash down the drain. Don’t worry, it’s just bruised and a bit sore today but I can play a bit. I love a bit of drama me.

Proof that running makes your legs longer?

I’ve never taken my hands for granted. I’ve always been super careful but this year I’ve taken more risks. I’ve become more active physically and pushed my swimming harder, starting weekly lessons on top of my pool fitness classes in July. It’s a time saving idea, so I get a double session in twice a week which saves time fannying around in the changing room. This also gives my callouses time to recover and I think the chlorine hardens the skin on my fingers. With a very wet Autumn upon us, weather is no excuse since it’s often drier in the pool. The irresistibly addictive endorphin rush is the main reason I’m hooked on swimming, as well as running and walking. I often arrive at the baths grumpy and ridden with angst about the future. An hour and a half later I’m a hyperactive gregarious mass of energy, giggling as I bounce out of the leisure centre, whooping in my car as I drive home to get back to my work.

In September I completed my 100 miles walking and running. My friend and mentor Gareth instilled the idea in me, and getting so close in August with 87 miles in the bag, I decided I’d give it a go. No pressure as I had a lot of work to do, but the idea was niggling away in the back of my mind. Feeling a bit aimless about my career, having a target and anticipating that sense of achievement made me want to get up in the morning. So on the morning of 30 September, I notched up 100.9 miles. Think about that. I don’t think I drive 100 miles in a month these days, and that’s another story. I would have bettered my 100 but I wanted to celebrate my achievement with a flask of coffee by the res and a slow ceremonious absorbent stroll.

It was a spectacular morning and my elation was immense. I was at peace.

It’s difficult to describe Gareth Boot. He’s a bit of a chameleon. With his generous support, coaching and mentorship, I’m now almost 2 years sober and smoke free. I’m fitter than I’ve ever been and with his support, I feel equipped to face life’s challenges. If you need assistance with any aspect of your wellbeing, take a look at garethboot.com and drop him a line. He’d love to hear from you so long as you’re not an arsehole! With his lovely partner Sue, they run a company called Better 247 which focuses on all things wellbeing. Sue does a gorgeous banana cake too, amongst an ever expanding range of other delicious vegan recipes. Gareth took me on a run earlier this week and I notched up 10.34 miles. Me! It wasn’t pretty but that doesn’t matter. I did it. That’s what matters.

Since the incident at the shop, I’ve really got my head down and started to face the issues I’m avoiding around getting creative work. I can play the harp. I can write. I’m good at languages and I can cook, and clean if I must. The bigger issue is telling people about myself and getting people to hire me. My business skills are improving but I’m not a natural saleswoman. I’m aware of my talents and my weaknesses and that’s a good starting point.

What’s an introvert/extravert creative to do?