In a recent quiz we were challenged to think of twenty well known proverbs; fine you might think! If we weren’t under the pressure of having to come up with them to save our team’s honour against other collections of humanity it would be fine. As it was we were struggling big time.
We could come up with three straight away and then all went blank. I don’t want to blame age as a the main cause of our unfruitfulness but it does seem to be a recurring theme these days as we rush our way towards fifty not out. The memory loss is one thing but the propensity to be easily distracted is another.
Our first two proverbs caused me the most problem in this respect. ‘Two many cooks spoil the broth’ and ‘Many hands make light work’. I couldn’t help pondering how such seemingly simplistic proverbs could be so diametrically opposed. With these two sayings we are faced with a serious problem when it comes to soup making; either we suffer the consequence of having too much staff in the kitchen and consume sub-standard minestrone, or we find it to be such hard work due to lack of help that we become too exhausted to eat it.
When we finally got going with our quiz answers we were faced with other contradictory problems. How am I supposed to believe that I am ‘never to old to learn’ if at the same time it is impossible to ‘teach an old dog new tricks’. This never seemed to be problem when I was younger but now it has a certain poignancy.
When I was in my twenties I was happy to try new things living by the spirit of the youthful saying ‘nothing ventured, nothing gained’. Now, however, it appears that the power of this saying has been reduced by the fact that is ‘better to be safe than sorry’.
I turned to my team mates and asked them if they felt a similar amount of confusion at this point; after all we were joined together because we had much in common, as if confirming the truism ‘birds of a feather flock together’. Nobody else shared my concern leaving me to feel slightly excluded until one of our group pointed out that ‘opposites attract’; thus proving my point. I think perhaps I am at the age where I should make up my own proverbs that fit with my midlife status. Try these:
‘Whatever hair you lose on you head grows in your ears and nose’
‘If it is not on the shopping list it doesn’t get bought’
‘Pastry can only be eaten once a week’
‘If you wear that style of clothes long enough it will eventually come back in fashion’
This one is important because after all ‘clothes maketh the man’ although, come to think of it you shouldn’t ‘judge a book by its cover’ so it doesn’t matter after all. Confused! I think we should let sleeping dogs lie.
Sayings
Weather
Its all been a bit gloomy on the news over recent weeks and it is quite tempting to stop watching so that you are not faced with depressing pictures. I am, rather unwisely, partial to a spot of burying my head in the sand.
The problem with this approach is that you can easily miss things that you might want to see. I have developed a cunning method for deciding whether to hit the off button during the bulletin. It involves listening to the news readers tone as they introduce the piece. If they start in a bright ‘it feels like a Friday afternoon’ voice then you know that they will be talking about fluffy subjects like abseiling vicars and celebrities doing charity work.
If, however, they begin to talk in sombre tones it is sure sign that trouble is brewing.
It is the same principle as being able to guess the score of the football match as the reporter reads the results on a Saturday afternoon.
I had hoped that I might be able to transfer this new found skill to watching the weather report but the presenters are not as helpful in this respect.
They must be trained to speak in an ‘I have the best job in the world’ kind of voice no matter what the weather conditions. Smiling, almost smugly, they announce that storms will be covering the country.
I don’t mind them being happy when it is going to be sunny but do they have to enjoy telling us to expect grey skies and showers.
Thinking about the summer we have just missed out on perhaps they have had to try and over compensate in order to keep us watching.
Some years ago when Michael Fish brought us news of the climate he would do so in a fully professional way only offering us an occasional smile or chuckle when asked if a hurricane was about to hit our shores. He was more understated, of course, when he came on our screens to apologise later that same week.
You have to feel slightly sorry for weather men and women when it comes to presenting the forecast especially when you consider the last few months.
My father-in-law, with his eighty-eight years of experience refuses to trust them because for years he compared the picture on the screen with the summer view he experienced on his holidays.
Every year he would ring up from a caravan site in Cornwall to tell us that ‘it is glorious sunshine’ and for us not to believe the big black cloud depicted on the map just after the news that evening.
‘They just read it off a piece of paper’ he would say in his broad northern accent as if to imply that they knew nothing and were being fed lines.
I can always tell what he is going to say as soon as I answer the phone and here his very positive voice declaring ‘its sun shining here!’
I wonder if they need any eighty-eight year old weather forecasters.
Pottering
After spending what seems like weeks moving house we finally have a free weekend; well in theory at least.
I had approached this minor miracle in our social life with a certain amount of anticipation until my wife uttered the “P” word in reference to it.
I am not sure if this happens in other households but in mine it seems an all too frequent occurrence and so I have come to dislike the word “pottering”.
I dared to ask my wife for a definition so that I could attempt to gain back some control of my promised free weekend.
Apparently, by the list she reeled off, it consists of doing the things around the house that have built up over time.
Correct me if I am wrong but that just sounds like work and it seems to be at odds with the very notion of having a relaxing weekend.
I mean, anything that has the potential to produce a list or require the use of a screwdriver must be categorised as graft in my book.
My wife, however, approaches this possibility with an undue amount of glee; it seems that she relishes the opportunity of pottering.
I tried to tie her down to a time frame for the proposed time that we should potter on Saturday and she gave non-committal answers like ‘We shall see’ and ‘It depends’.
Needless to say I don’t feel comforted by this; I could probably take it for a couple of hours but after that it would just become a chore.
I dared to ask whether I needed to clock in to planet pottering before we start but my words were lost on Mrs M who had set off to the basement with a dustpan and a giant sized list of her favourite jobs.
It seems right to me that if I am going to be forced to engage in work, by any other name, then I need to have the same conditions as with my weekly employment.
Health & Safety; I am sure that I need ladder training before attempting do anything above head height. I know that I need knife training before opening all the boxes of stuff left around after the house move. Surely I need manual handling training before I move any object over 10kg.
I asked my bride whether we should wait until I had attended all said courses and the documentation was completed but she wasn’t interested in my plea.
She did, however, offer me a bottle of red and lunch at my favourite Portuguese restaurant if I agree to take part in her plans.
‘And if I don’t?’ I asked tentatively.
‘You will get your pottering P45’ she replied ‘and the promised wine and griddled chicken will be removed from your wage packet’.
As an employer Mrs M knows how to deal; a life of pottering it is. I wonder how many days holiday I get a year!
