Sciatica City
On April 24, 2020 by Speranza
So, sciatica is a pain in the arse (literally) but when I first felt that familiar current of pain, like a key in a lock, exactly twelve hours after I had smugly completed an online fitness class (only Level 2, which was basically designed for a lazy octogenarian – I exaggerate, but not much) – I was feeling very sorry for myself indeed. What is it about back pain that can bring you to your emotional knees so quickly? Firstly, all those jokes that circulate about knowing you are middle aged when “you can put your back out reaching for a slice of pizza” are no longer remotely funny but instead, spirit crushingly depressing. The pain and tightness was so severe that I could not put my socks on – I was crying with the effort. My usual go-to’s all help -a bit- such as putting an ice pack down the back of my pants; taking Advil till the hour is more seemly for a glass of wine; stretching like a slow-motion Georgia O’Keefe every hour, on the hour; supporting myself against the shower wall like an upright Sphinx while blasts of scalding water hit my spine; and best of all, leaning deeply into a tiny tennis ball till the bright, exquisite pain/relief that comes from dissolving a pressure point kicks in. Then, for seven minutes, I can dance, leap and yes, put socks on.
But then repeat all of the above again and again.
Border Lines & Border Terriers
On April 18, 2020 by Speranza
Disclaimer: Not one of my ancestors!
I’ve always had a dog. Crinkled family photos show well loved dogs owned by ancestors that I never even met. In my early married life, we had dogs in multiples – six at a time when we had a small acreage – so it has been strange and unsettling to have since endured an entire decade without any at all. The last dogs I had were Shar-Pei, exceptionally easy-going, companionable, intelligent and despite what you may have heard, ours were the very best with children. Sadly, we only had 7 years with The Incomparable ‘Hobson’ and once he and the others (‘Rose’, ‘Neon-Moon’) all passed away in quick succession after my husband’s departure, I had nothing left to give and no money for vet bills.
Pandemic
On April 16, 2020 by Speranza
When I was a young child my mind had – and still has – an uncanny but undesirable ability to remember scary, dreadful things just as I was trying to fall asleep. Literally, as I felt myself start to loosen, I would be snapped awake by the image of a grinning, menacing rocking horse that was moving independently (when I was five) or a collage of swirling, terrifying news bytes which happen to be true (last night).
You’ve Got (Unwanted) Mail
On February 18, 2020 by Speranza
The General and I were out shopping recently and eventually approached the counter to pay for our few wares. The young woman who came to serve us was buoyantly attractive with the cartoon appeal of those sloe-eyed creatures (without pores) who inhabit many an Instagram account.
“So, guys,” she said brightly – but slowly – in the manner of someone who has very recently attended a (mandatory) customer service seminar. “We’re going to start off by getting an email or phone number, ‘kay?”
The General leaned in to me and observed, sotto voce: “Is this an interview? I just wanted to buy toothpaste …”
Love this man.
Villette
On February 17, 2020 by Speranza
I am now making a conscious decision not to bang on about how long it’s been since I last posted anything; suffice it to say, that the entire blog has been in a serious coma and I have been struggling to decide whether or not to pull the plug.
Today, I say, let us limp on a little yet.
Rightly so or not, I do feel a little proud of myself for recently finishing the brilliant but painfully slow read that is Villette, by Charlotte Brontë. The novel itself is not especially toothsome but necessary French translations and classical allusions demand constant referencing to the notes. I will say upfront that I had never even heard of this book till it was referenced by the queen of obscure cool, Patti Smith, who said that she was so moved by the book she had to write an alternative ending of her own.