Life

Not a flake of white fluffy stuff, massive amounts of atmospheric movement, horizontal amounts of skywater and still bugger all solar stuff at the Castle this morn. 

No post yesterday the thaw made the interweb thingy go tits up but it did give me time to have a bit of a cogitate about life then and now.

As I sit here in my nice centrally heated Castle with its double glazing, cavity wall insulation and about two feet of loft stuff what is left of my left handed brain cell did a bit of time travel back to the 1950s, 60s, 70s and all the decades since then to today.

 

Joni Mitchell (both sides) 1970

 

Ain’t life strange; I seem to remember endless hot summer days, annual white Crimbo’s, freezing winters, the sound of the coal fire, a hot brick wrapped in a towel to keep my bed warm, a loo that was almost outside, a bath that had to be filled with a bucket, the smell of washing being boiled in the gas fired copper.

Sunday dinner around the crowded table, beef, chicken or pork with all the trimmings-tatties, cabbage, sprouts and carrots from the veg patch, fruit from the apple, pear and cherry trees, gooseberries and blackberries straight from the bushes, sharing a bedroom with two brothers, bread and lard, homemade strawberry jam from the jam jar, long days, short nights, fun, happiness, feeling loved and protected.

Listening to the Goons on the radio, and then suddenly a very small black and white TV appeared; discovering music, reading “proper” books for many an hour, filling my mind with words and scenes from all over the world and beyond.

Growing up, seeing a banana for the first time, helping dad work on his motorbike, going dahn to see grandma by the sea, going out on boats around the Solent with the old man and uncles to catch whatever was daft enough to take the freshly dug up bait.

Growing up a bit more, going to the “big school”, spending every day at the swimming pool during the summer holidays with a load of mates, finally noticing girls, that first kiss (thank you Moira), growing up some more, being in the choir, being made a “prefect”, listening as my voice changed from alto to baritone, finding hair where I didn’t think hair should be.

Growing up even more, exams, more exams, apprenticeship (mechanical engineering), work, more work, moving out to my own place, more work, meeting “M”, getting married, more work, mortgages, more work, losing mum and dad, losing “M” after 34years that I wouldn’t change for all the money in the world.

Watching “fashion” go from mini-skirts with knee high boots and loons to disco, shoulder pads, dungarees, punk and ever onwards, and back to mini-skirts, music changing from Lonnie Donnegan to pop, glam, electro pop, grunge, garage, hip hop, blood, puss and everything to today’s noise.

Booms, busts, 12 percent interest rates, zero percent interest rates, austerity, unemployment, what seems to be a declining respect for All And Sundry by the young, the NHS, the establishment and the Piss Poor Policies “Government”, watching my savings evaporate, my private pension dwindling and looking forward to getting my bus pass in five weeks time.

More work, getting older, listening to the joints creaking, making that funny noise when I get up or bend dahn, spending much more time in the toilet, “retiring”, blogging, waiting....

 

It really is a funny old life.

 

Joni Mitchell (both sides) 2000.

 

 

Angus