Recovery

I am a member of a Towcester Writer’s Group and every month we are challenged with a title or theme. This was the January challenge

Tell me about it” she said, “your recovery, that is”

“Wells, it’s a longs story so I ‘opes yous ‘as time” came back the answer from the man sitting in on the opposite seat in the rather old, dilapidated railway coach. “It’s a very longs story and if I’m ‘onest, I’s nots sure “recovery” even cuts it. But you asked so  ‘eres we goes”.

With that he proceeded to rapidly recall the contents of his life over the past ten years in meandering sentences that seemed to lose a certain coherency over the next portion of time. Quite a long portion of time in all fairness and there was part of her that wished she had never asked.

He had seemed an interesting fellow and she had been intrigued by the prelude to his story but in hindsight, she had to admit that she wished she had just kept her nose firmly implanted in her paper and never looked up as he rambled on! Yet in another moment her consciousness pricked the lining of her soul, and she remonstrated her selfish lament and reconnected, at least cognitively, to the old man and his tale.

“And theres yous ‘as it” the chap wound up. “I tolds yous it was a long ‘un but it’s good of yous to listen. Most folks just gives me that quizzical look that says ‘oh god’ and ‘old fool’ and don’t gives mes the times of days. So good of yous to listen. When alls saids and dones though, I’m really not sure that recovery is the right word.  I means do wes ever truly recover or do wes just reinvents us-selves” he mused.

“Reinvent ourselves! That was exactly it!” thought the girl silently. “That’s exactly what we do. Reinvent – reframe – repurpose!” She wondered some more.

“Does recovery suggest that we return to a previous state?” she thought. “But how was that ever possible. Life isn’t about re-doing anything. In reality, we may return to a previous address, or station or place but in ourselves, was recovery the healing balm it alluded to or was it just an illusion that we recovered by returning to better health or the same place or the same state. In the presence of the experience that one had lived through was recovery about improvement or adaptation or the ‘new normal’ that had become a buzz word through the recent pandemic”.

To the old chap opposite, she smiled and nodded. “I wonder then, why we call it recovery then?”

“We likes to kids us-selves” he said. His front tooth was missing, and the wages of time wore deep into his furrowed brow. His stubbled chin was dappled grey and unkempt and the hair on his head was lank with strands falling in grease ridden clumps out of the flat cap that must have been as old as he was!

“We kids us-selves” he repeated. “We likes to thinks that we’ve got it sussed. We likes out security – thats wes dos. We thinks that if we recover then it’s all gonna be dandy – fine and dandy likes it used to be. But it’s not, is it? It’s not really ever like that, it’s…..” His voice trailed off into the narrative that continued in his mind yet was denied any verbal definition that could be shared with his travelling companion.

“Yeah, wes kids us-selves – that wes dos” he said with a certain conviction as he returned from whence he had been to the present conversation looking to the girl for some validation.

“We certainly do” said the girl with the stamp of authority that the chap was beseeching from her. “We certainly do” she said recovering herself in that moment. The irony was not lost! “We certainly do!”

Advertisement

Covicabulary

Poetry and music are a great way to express the way you feel or to document an experience. This video then explores the vocabulary of the pandemic through poetry. Language is a powerful medium that defines so much but here it has been put to music by the very talented Mike Gascoigne (his channel is here https://www.youtube.com/channel/UChT6…​). The photography has been reproduced and remains copyright protected to the owners credited many of whom submitted their pictures to the renew169 wellbeing lockdown photography competition. To find out about Renew169 and the valuable work they do you can visit their website https://www.renew169.org.uk/​. It was great collaborating with all these people.

Covicabulary

Memo from Santa

Covicabulary

A poem to highlight words that have come to the fore in the pandemic – covid vocabulary 

A new vocab is spreading
At an R of ten or more
It’s growing exponentially
With sizeable vigour
That started when the toilet roll
Sold out in every state
As folk were told to stay at home
And to self-isolate

For a pangolin or bat it seemed
From Wuhan overseas
Had introduced a virus
To human communities
And from there, it had gone rampant
Setting off a pandemic
That was as nasty as could be
Making folk really sick

So we now must social-distance;
Wash our hands throughout the days
Less Corona dares to get us
In unprecedented ways
So whilst we shun covidiots
When they are so unwise
We won’t forget when we could only
Shop essential buys

Not forgetting that the Chancellor
Committed billions of pounds
As schools and pubs and shops and clubs
All had to shut right down
And folk were put on furlough
To stay home; watch Netflix
Though some preferred to chat on Zoom
Or workout with Joe Wicks

Still others started working
From their residential pad
With musicians hung out to dry
And others down and sad
And parents had to fathom out
Pythagoras and the like
As they taught their darling kiddiewinks
To stop a second spike!

Not forgetting all the keyworkers
Who brought in deliveries
Emptied the bins and kept on top
Of the necessitates
From the supermarket assistants
To the chemist and the rest
Who put themselves in trouble’s way
To do their very best

Whilst others had to stay inside
By shielding from the rest
With Grandparents and others
Confined in their own nests
Away from friends and family
In a measure so surreal
That lockdown for the vulnerable
Was such a harsh ordeal

But over everything else
There was a new frontline
Of doctors and of nurses
Of carers who defined
The war effort against the bug
In complete PPE
Selflessly saving lives to care
For the likes of you and me

And so together, globally
A pause button‘s been pressed
With mitigations such as masks
To help the NHS
And other healthcare systems
Who despite the quarantine
Have struggled to keep a-pace of
Noxious COVID19

So the nation has tried to flatten out
The curve that previously
They’d not heard of along with words
Like herd immunity
And so in just a few short months
The lexicon has grown
So now these words are commonplace
When they were once unknown

Covid Vocabulary

 

 

I Loved You Like You Were My Own 💗

This poem is dedicated to Mo – a dear dear friend gone too soon.

I loved you like you were my own
Warmed by your radiant light
Your glorious smile
Your broadest hugs
And welcome of delight

I loved you like you were my own
Encouraged by your strength
The joy you brought
The love you gave
That went to any length

I loved you like you were my own
The dearest of all hearts
So giving of
Yourself always
E’en when we were apart

I loved you like you were my own
Blessed by your sweet refrain
That sang out loud
Songs and great hymns
Our loss is the angel’s gain.

So sleep dear Mo the soundest sleep
Reunited with your love
And rest in your
Eternal peace
In heaven up above

I had a dream

I HAD A DREAM

I had a dream about the world
The world all cloaked in fear
Ruled by this overwhelming force
Or so it would appear

But then came a brand new order
That took hold of all the fright
Caressing it with kindness
And bathing it in light

And with compassion’s touch
Doors and ceilings opened wide
To conquer all the bounds of fear
Washed over by the tide

And liberty and freedom
Were released to roam at will
Subduing guns of terror
Scaling up the highest hill

For bullets held no power now
Unable to do harm
As peace reigned in magnificence
Together with a calm

And although fear still existed
The feed was love and honesty
With openness and pureness
Wrapped up in tranquillity

And so fear’s self just vanished
Replaced by universal care
Shining with a luminescence
That was forever there

And in that very dream
The heartbeat of the world restored
Turning from the pulse of violence
To one of acceptance and accord.

Bugsy Batty, The Coronavirus – A simple story to help children understand

I wrote a story to help adults explore the current pandemic with their young children. It includes helpful guidance to help those conversations flow a little easier.

It is illustrated by a lovely friend of mine, Debbie Joy Brookes, who worked remotely and at speed to get this out there. We hope you find it helpful at a time when there’s a lot of worry in the air yet at a time when we need to help children process this so that their own trauma is mitigated as much as possible

For a FREE downloadable copy click here

https://www.keepandshare.com/doc19/27032/bugsy-batty-the-coronavirus-pdf-559k?da=y

Please share widely so that all adults needing to support young children have access to this, resource at this time.

Thank you

Moaning, The Weather, Tea and Maybe Gin!

There’s an English addiction
That really is rife
To moan about everything
They encounter in life
They complain about this
They complain about that
They protest and they grumble
And they go tit for tat
Be it about their work or their children
Their house or their car
They take moaning to new levels
But the complaint that’s by far
The most idiosyncratic of all
Just has to be
When they moan about the weather
Be it wet or sunny
For in winter they witter
About the cold and the rain
Then in summer the sun
Gives them cause to complain
So like ‘em or love ‘em
To be English for sure
Is to be in a state of discontentment
Where only tea is the cure!
For tea is quite magic
As it makes all things right
When the English have done battle
And there’s no gin in sight!

Perspective

Still Love