A DAY OF RAINBOWS

'Asthma never goes away,' I told him, 'Not if you don't use the medication to fight it - fresh air isn't going to do it Musician.'

 

I switched off from his ideas, not wanting to hear the feeble answers for neglect. Thank God the doctor gave him a bollicking, and kept him in; that was a first, along with the canula in his hand; that little tap on his blood. He complained about it, and the time we'd had to wait. I shouldn't still have to be this mother, to a thirty year old man. Why don't I have a son who can cope with his own small space in the world? Another fault of mine, I supposed.

 

Now I had to pick up more medication for him from ward 20, on my way to work. He was knackered, he said, and sleeping the whole incident off because they'd woke him every half hour to take his blood pressure, then took him for a chest x-ray at 5am! Not once did he ask how I was, driving home at 3am last night.

 

And down came the rain - in torrents, behind the sun. I had to switch the wipers to insane! Motorways are dangerous places when there's water thrown about but driving over fly-overs through rainbows is worth every moment of near-death collision. They arrived in front of me, one after another, strong bands of colour being born right before my eyes; I'd never seen anything like it in this city before. God was making me jump through hoops - well, drive, but still an effort.

 

Everywhere I turned, a rainbow waited for me - even as I parked at the hospital. This is a sign, I thought. I'm too good to go on strike, to refuse to be a mother to my son, even if he was fifty! So maybe this is his turning point too; it might be his day, his epiphany - even if he is sound asleep in his dusty flat with his loose-haired cat.

MEETING UP WITH ORACLE

I had lunch with Oracle today – well it was really a kind of early supper. We love to sit in Peckham’s and graze a cheese board once a month, with an assortment of drinks; latte, Earl Grey, water, pear cider, coke. Fabulous way to sift through a very late afternoon, though now the clocks have changed, it was dark when we left.

 ‘Ooh, I’m out in the city in the dark!’ I said.

 

He had a new toy, which he showed off; we poured over this beautifully flat and smooth iPod Touch. Oh I just love it. At the moment I carry around five or six books in my work bag; with this wonderful little thing I wouldn’t need any at all – it has access to hundreds of books you can download and either read off its big screen or listen to. Wow! is all I can say. Actually that’s not right, because what I said was…

 

 ‘Hello lovely daughter (in a text message), Mummy wants an iPod Touch from Santa asap. Please.’ I know she’s getting her first big wage this week, because of the promotion, so I’m getting an early Christmas present. Now that is wonderful!

 

All these free aps, including newspapers, notebook, astrology, iChing, Google Earth and loads more. It catches free wifi and just clicks onto it, so you can send emails, blog, do Facebook and Bebo etc. what really attracts me is the books and writing; I should be able to upload some of my work and edit it; or I can write as much as I like and it’s already typed in, isn’t it? I do love my notebooks but I hate having to type it up, so don’t tend to write a lot in them – just notes really, or little pieces of inspiration.

 

So, a stimulating day was had and I sat musing on it and the iPod Touch during the 40 minute train journey; thinking of all the things I could have done to entertain myself with the lovely contraption.

 

WHO ARE WE?

I’ve just joined another writing site – oh yes I did. Some of my online friends from another site are there but under different names. I know that they belong to lots of other places, but wonder how they remember who they are? I can’t depend on my memory remembering who I am at any one time so must be consistent; there will only ever be ireneintheworld for me from now on. I have loads of old email addresses lying around in the ether, and domain names I’ve long forgotten; and MySpace places etc.

 

God, I come across pieces in my notebooks and stagger back in surprise, saying, ‘Did I write that?’ Of course I bloody-well did; who else? How come I don’t remember writing that stuff? The other day I found a whole poem about the Erskine Bridge suicides; it had six or seven verses and I couldn’t remember a word of it. Is this it? Should I be getting myself checked for Alzheimer’s? Mind you, they’d have to think up different questions for me because I haven’t read newspapers or listened to the news for years, so I never know what’s going on in the world – or the name of the prime minister. I don’t know why or how Steven Gately died.

 

I drove across the Erskine bridge that Monday morning, on my way to work, completely unaware that two young teenage girls had joined hands and jumped together, into the cold, dark river, only ten hours earlier. People at work were talking about it so when I drove over after work I felt the emotion rise within me for those poor souls who couldn’t think of another way out. 14 and 15 years old; how tragic is that? Now I’ve got myself upset just thinking about it again; how two girls that age could even contemplate leaping 120 feet, into a dark river.

 

Who we are is important and I’m very happy to stick with ireneintheworld now because she is who I am. I spent a lot years, lost in the wilderness; drinking in a raunchy life; experimenting in further education and creative possibilities; but I know that I’m lucky to have survived all the confusion and desperate moments so offer up prayers to whoever helped me. I am grateful.

BACK IN THE SADDLE - Maybe

Well, I have really lived up to my title here as only Sometimes Functional but I am Present now. Long time since I’ve blogged; I’ve been forced to lie down and worship the big silver box, and my sofa was just sooooo comfortable – I don’t think I’ll ever have to buy a new one. But, I’ve slapped the box off and have taken to my bed – no, not with the vapours, with the laptop…but, I’m still the procrastinator, messing about on chatty writing sites but I am writing poetry. So that’s all right then.

 

Spent my whole day off, Wednesday, lounging in this freshly-made bed, writing fresh poems, then decided about half-past-nine to pop over to the local shop for chocolate – it closes at ten. So imagine the whirl to get some kind of dressed to walk the twenty-five yards. God, I felt light-headed, on strange legs.

 

I almost sailed around that shop, musing on bargains, with a black bra hanging from the fringes of my bag! As I’d left, I felt my bag tug, and thought I’d caught the fringe in the door but was free to carry on. When I arrived back, with my bags of fun-size chockies, I noticed something black lying on the doorstep. I couldn’t believe my luck to see this bra actually jammed in the door; imagine it swinging around me, hooked from my bag – I would only have noticed it when I came to pay, with a queue of people looking on behind me!

 

This could be a new phase in my life, where I return to blogging and work on the writing more, but it might only be a fluke – time will tell. November is National Novel Writing Month so I’ll be battering away at that and, hopefully, finish the novel! We’ll see.

FREE

Oooh I've been away from this way of life for too long - think I've lost my blogging mojo! Once you get out of the habit you're kind of lost. I'm afraid I've been imprisoned by a mad sofa; it's green and very generous, soft with good spring. Actually there are two of them but the big one is the worst; it's a bully and yells at me from the minute I open my eyes - I hardly have time to get a cup of tea!

So I'm here now - what do you want to talk about? Have I finished the novel yet? Are you mad? Every time I desert the sofa and sit at the table with Lovely Laptop I end up in tidying mode or re-size photos for the web mode ... then post them on Bebo mode; or find all printed poems, put them in some kind of order - stuff them in a display book - no make that two display books; one for the published and one for everything in general. And then there's the finding old literary magazines that still stink of the fire and type my old published work into the laptop; this is not the path that leads to the end of the novel.

Today is my birthday. I might be turning over a new and more useful life - I might not...but let's be positive. This is the new 55yr old me. I think I can get some kind of cheap train travel; I was offered it eighteen months ago when buying a ticket to Aberdeen to visit Carrie...so now I really am an almost completely white-haired old lady, it's time to act like one and get the freebies - roll on the pension years and my free bus pass!

A FEW PEBBLES

1

This Lilly is a long-boned woman with legs like skewers and empty breasts lying on the furrows of ribs. Her smile comes from an old heart, strong beyond reason. She smiles at laughing visitors who kiss, kiss, kiss, planting babies in her lap and presents on the bed. She tells them that she’s had lunch, but the menu escapes her; food appears like magic - chicken is fish, porridge is soup and everything is beautiful.

2

Accents arch and murmur through the carriage.

Hills, studded with pylons clamber

over us and craggy Huddersfield snuggles

into this lost Thursday. Manchester recalls

dead people from my past and the child

conceived there on a living room carpet.

3

In Madrid, I stood

Alive, before Guernika

A LITTLE CULTURE ON THE WEEKEND

Isn't it wonderful that you can just whip out your phone and snap away when the whim takes you? Sylvia and I wandered around The Art Galleries at Kelvinhall on Monday but this is all that impressed me to photograph. These are our feet in an installation.


She is just beautiful and in the perfect setting. And the ship is actually silver but I love the gold sheen here.


The masks are too scary for Sylvia but I love them.

WEEKENDING

Ooooh, it’s great to get back to normal; I’ve had visitors for the weekend so that means no TV and not much of the horizontal on my sofa – quite the opposite in fact. There were FOUR days of walking, tramping around and now I’m knackered. How lovely is today? Today has been all horizontal in front of the goggle-box; it was raining all morning anyway so not the kind of day to stretch legs or anything physical.

Visitors also meant preparation; I didn’t go at it with the same vitality as most people – I only did what was absolutely necessary. I purposely didn’t dust the top of the cabinet in the living room and have photographic evidence – there are still no carpets down so it is dusty here…well that’s my excuse:

I had a brilliant time and we laughed till we were sick! All those stories from schooldays and childhood; ex-husbands and lovers; drunken sprees, events and traumas; we didn’t need entertainment; there was no background music, no movies, no comedy except what burst from our mouths. Isn’t life grand?

But it’s so great to be alone again, back in hermit mode though I have made myself a few promises to leave the flat sometimes and walk a little, but I needed today to rest.

SEASONAL MAYHEM

Across George Square bare

skin sizzling: not drowning

in high factors.

Here, summer lands

like a sledgehammer.

SURPRISE!

Drop everything, Glaswegians

desperately seeking brown

burn red.

Hospitals prepare

people swear – Never again.

How many degrees?

Blisters glisten

skin dries and peels

to squeals of pain.

Bra-less and free

goose-bumps, fever

just in time for autumn.

DREAMS

Big cats settled down beside me, tame but still frightening, smacking their lips and jostling for position; they were my pets, companions since kitten-hood, loyal and enormous playthings with terrible teeth. The dreams were compelling; I slipped in and out of them and couldn’t escape, through wakings, turnings and tossing, there they were - waiting, calling me back, pinning me down.

I was comfortable, felt safe, secure and happy with them in my life but there was tension and the knowledge that they could turn into big-bad-adults and eat me at any time; I was completely aware that humans can’t always know their companions and what they’re capable of, completely.

A feminine aspect. Cats attacking you represent the enemies; if you succeed banishing them you will overcome great obstacles and rise in fortune and fame.

A dream about lions is associated with nobility, strength and pride. Your success depends upon your ability to cope with opposition. Will have a valuable friendship.

Tigers are associated with power, wild beauty and intense sexual force. You will overcome opposition and rise to a high position in your way to enjoy luxuries with ease and pleasure.

Panthers: wild beauty and grace. Enemies will fail in attempts to injure you

Leopards: enemies seek to cause injury but will fail. You will be embarrassed in business or love, but by persistent efforts you will overcome difficulties.

I think there was a mixture of these animals in my dream, but definitely lion and tiger. Of course I will lean towards the positive meanings seeing as I felt safe and aware of the dangers; so success is what I take away from this.

MUSING

Oooh, just thinking about a ham and pease-pudding sandwich; I haven’t had that Geordie delicacy for years! When I first moved to the north east of England my Glaswegian nose turned up at the very thought of it and it was several years until I actually tasted it – instant love. The idea of it entered my head as I watched a character in a movie spread peanut butter on bread. Don’t know if I can get it up here.

STOP thinking about nice food. OK then. Just EAT to live – don’t LIVE to eat.

I still haven’t managed to make myself get up and out of here early and WALK into Balloch. I’ve been trying to tempt myself with the idea of looking at the boats on the river, writing in the sun (what sun?) and enjoying a coffee – I can’t even do it in the car…and it’s only about quarter of a mile! THINK of all that pleasant fresh air and a tramp through the woods or saunter along the river path.

Oh but my sofa is so lovely and the warm feeling I get from the laptop as it burns my knees…and now I’ve got stuff for sale on Ebay I can spend loads of time CHECKING for watchers!

But now I need to go get dressed and out of here for work. It’s pay-day again (not that I’ll see much of it these next two weeks) and that time of the month has come around when money is demanded with menaces so all of my excitement will come from the auctions and writing – so maybe I’d better just get right to it then.

DUMBARTON

I drove over to Dumbarton with TocToc and GrubbyAngel; it's amazing what's on my doorstep. I haven't really gone anywhere out of the ordinary shopping and granny-duties since I moved here. This was perfect for testing the little camera I bought on Ebay for Amazon's birthday - not great weather but interesting. According to TocToc there used to be loads of boats docked here, now there's only the ruins of the docks.


What a fabulous setting for a bowling green; if I was playing there I wouldn't be able to keep my attention on the game. I took the photo from the first level of the castle on Dumbarton Rock; apparently there's over 300 steps to the top so I wasn't going any further - maybe next year if I can lose some weight and get fit.