Sunday 29 April 2018

Rainy Days and Poo Sticks


So this week I have been playing poo sticks. Not the fun kind of pooh sticks with twigs, a bridge and a stream, but the kind that involves smearing poo on plastic windows to be tested for bowel cancer. Yet another unpleasant, but necessary ‘treat’ for the older person. For women these procedures start with a smear test when you’re 25, then the joy of mammograms when you reach 50. Poo sticks arrive when you’re 60. It amazes me that the invitations always arrive on or around your birthday - a special gift from the NHS! 

Run away!!!

I am a basically sensible person, and always take advantage of the various screening programmes, but each time I do I have a mild panic attack. What if they find something? How will I cope? I have never been any good at facing my fears, preferring to bury my head in the sand and run away, but as I get older I realise that I can’t outrun things forever. I’m not being maudlin - most of the time I don’t give my mortality a thought…well, some of the time…but it does give you a different perspective.

Splurge!

I was brought up to be careful with money. While I am partial to an occasional splurge, I have always saved, lived within my means and, even when I divorced, managed to be financially independent. When I retired my income was substantially reduced and, although I am fortunate in that I can manage day-to-day, if I use my savings pot for something, I am unable to replace it. This freaks me out. Is this my rainy day? It doesn’t feel like it, but I seem to have reached the point where I need to say, ‘Spend the lot, you can’t take it with you!’ But being prudent is so much a part of me that I constantly struggle.
For example, last week my husband ordered a shed to replace the one we inherited when we bought this house. But in demolishing the shed, we also demolished the garden wall! 

At least we've still got a gate...

The additional expense this has incurred has completely panicked me. I know we are lucky enough to have the money, and I also know that the new shed will mean that I will actually be able to open the door and get my bike out. But the sleepless nights! I wouldn’t mind but it was my idea…no-one else to blame!

But my bike needs a new home...

I am very appreciative of the fact that I am financially secure - I can help my family out when they need it while I am still around to be thanked by them. But when it comes to myself I find it so difficult and anxiety inducing. I guess it’s the ‘low self esteem’ card showing itself again - I am not worthy! I am on a pendulum swinging between ‘Be careful’ and ‘Sod it’, and I’m still not sure where to jump off!  

Sod it, I'm screwed!

Benjamin Franklin once said, ‘in this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes’, so I’m probably screwed either way!

Friday 13 April 2018

Saying Yes

It’s been so long since I wrote a blog post I may have forgotten how to do it! Impossibly I have now been living in the land of the blue rinse for almost two years. For the first year I mostly felt a sense of relief, and enjoyed being able to do nothing at all if I felt like it. 

Gets boring after a while...

Sometime during the second year, doing nothing started to lose its attraction - partly because an enduring knee injury prevented me from being physically active, and partly because, quite frankly, it’s boring!

In an attempt to do something about it, I decided I would try and say yes to more things that came my way. This has meant overcoming low self esteem, social anxieties and my classic ‘I can’t be bothered’ demeanour.

Was this a wise 'yes'?

I’ve written at length about my ‘boudoir shoot’ which did a massive amount to improve my confidence in myself at the time. Looking back, I still can’t quite believe I did it - it was my equivalent of a bungee jump over Niagara Falls, and I really had to force myself to say ‘yes’ not only to the shoot, but also to agreeing to the photos being shared.

Gin, peppercorns...who knew?

A seemingly trivial thing I said ‘yes’ to was going out with my sister-in-law for a drink. Writing it down seems ridiculous, but it was to somewhere I’d never been, with people I’d never met. Both things challenge me, and there were times when I would have made an excuse. But I didn’t, and not only did I have a lovely time, I tried lots of new gins too!


But the thing I said yes to that has had the most impact on me was agreeing to go along to a local writing group. A friend asked me, so I did know somebody, but after the first meeting I honestly thought that it wasn’t for me - everyone wrote poems, and there was a talk by an erstwhile author who had self-published two books. Not my cup of tea (or coffee - I don’t drink tea!) I missed the next meeting, but then was persuaded to try again, and I am so happy that I did. Each month gives me something to write about, I love listening to what others have written and everyone is so welcoming. 

I've got notebooks and everything!

Through the group I found a short creative writing course at the local library, which opened up even more horizons for me. I actually enjoy writing poetry now and proudly read my efforts to anyone who will listen! And at least if I’m unable to sleep I will muse on how I can interpret this month’s title, or how I can start my novel, instead of the usual worries that regularly keep me awake. Maybe now I need to find a reading group!