Foolish Hand Gestures

Thanks to Jen for pointing out www.stuffonmycat.com Why is a sleeping cat with a remote control on his head funny? It just is.

On Friday I got invited to a primary school to read some of my poems to P6 and P7. It was great to see their enthusiastic faces. They asked questions like, 'Do you know any famous poets?' Were they hoping I was a descendent of Rabbie Burns? Love child of Pam Ayers and Seamus Heaney? I read a poem about a first kiss and they all started giggling and whispering. I didn't know where to look...

I still feel behind on all the things I want to do. I want to read more, write more, talk more. I've decided the frustrations of ME can be similar to those of learning a language. If I go to Spain, I think it's great that I've learned to say 'Where is the station?' and it is; it's better than nothing. But if I actually want to have a conversation that doesn't grind to a brain-gasping halt, ending in foolish hand gestures and the repetition of 'no se' (don't know) and phrases that might translate as, 'me no good Spanish speak'; well, I've no chance. The words just aren't there. Similarly, I can and do want to do SO much in my day to day life, but my cellular batteries conk out after an hour or two.

Anyway, thank God it was milder today. Daffodil mild. I'm relieved to get past the 'shiver-every-time-you-go-out' phase of our Scottish winter. Phew phew Barney McGrew.

-C