Never one to give up

The need to communicate, connect with another – hardwired – in the human race.

True one to one communication is now like a precious commodity, not easily found.

18 months ago my lawyer/solicitor – and they don’t come more sober than him – wrote to me on a personal note, giving me this his urgent advice: “We weren’t designed to do life on our own”.

No doubt he is right; though I still do my damndest to prove him wrong.

I have learnt that we blog – a very ugly word indeed – till the cows come home. But an awful lot of blogging – other than the factual kind – is just bullshit.

It’s like looking into a mirror first thing in the morning; all you see is your own face – unless you are blind.

I have, more or less, lost a friend – or so I thought he was – over his blogging. Can you imagine ever being dumped (and I am not talking romantic/sexual jealousy – just friendship) over a one for all? I am gutted. Fullstop.

When this dawned on me a few months ago I had a dream involving squirrels running around. I had never dreamed of squirrels ever before so I looked up their symbolism in an arbitrary dream dictionary. It said something along the lines of “being in a pointless relationship”.

Since I tend to take my own counsel I dismissed it outright at the time, though reconsidering now.

Do you see what I mean about personal blogs? They turn into a bloody confessional even if you have never been to one in your whole life.

Taking my leave.

U

Fouling one’s nest

If there was one rule (and there were many) in the family I grew up in it was to not do as indicated in the above subject line.

So I read with my usual mixture of rage and bemusement at whether the world and its communication with each other has gone completely out of kilter:

A nineteen year old, now jailed, was taken to court, yes court, by his own parents for burgling them (to the tune of £50,000). Whatever has happened to “keeping it in the family”? And if I were that mother (tight lipped – you should see the photo) I’d really question myself where on earth I went wrong for my own flesh and blood feeling the need to steal from me as an act of revenge. And then I’d shoot myself.

I can’t wait to tell one of my brothers-in-law this story. He is a very calm person; and he needs to be, considering that all he ever wanted was a quiet life only to find himself married to his adored and beloved wife (my sister), plus several children later. He has worn well despite his fate; one little quirk he allows himself when all of us are assembled round their large dinner table is to toast to “keeping the peace” – at least till after we’ve eaten. Needless to say that this immediately evokes Petra’s wrath, but it’s been going for twenty years now so it’s part of the ritual. Here is to you, Wolfgang – long may it last.

U