Wow - what a night! Yes I know the book ended when Granny Moira phoned from Australia in the early hours of Sunday morning, but what I didn't say anything about was the fantastic time we'd had earlier.
It was quite a shock when Ann whispered that sentence in my ear I can tell you! She had that naughty look in her eye and as she gently led me by the hand upstairs, I suddenly experienced an equal mix of anticipation and trepidation. I had absolutely no idea what to do.
As she unpinned her long hair and let it cascade down around her shoulders, she gave it shake and my brain disappeared into my trousers. Slowly, so slowly she inched down the zip on her dress, never taking her eyes off me. I was transfixed; couldn't believe this was happening.
Ann had definitely bought new underwear; my recent washing experiences told me that. She'd never worn French knickers before and the matching bra was doing me a power of good at the same time as giving her a fantastic cleavage. She obviously had no intention of taking either of them off.
"Shall I give you a hand with those buttons?" she sexily asked the wide eyed drooling idiot who'd just replaced the top sanitary ware sales executive.
"S'alright" slobbered the drooling idiot as his trousers defeated him and sent him smashing into the wall causing no pain whatsoever.
"Here; let me help with those" she whispered huskily as she encouraged the slow decent of the idiots underpants until she suddenly exclaimed in a fearful voice, "Oh Pete; you will be gentle with me, won't you?"
It wasn't quite what the idiot had in mind but heard himself answering uneasily, "Of course Pumpkin: I'll be as careful as I can."
The idiot stood there naked as nature intended.
"Oh Pete, I don't know if I can manage all that," she whispered in awe, and thereby compounded the problem by at least another inch.
The vision of loveliness led the gibbering idiot to the bed, and although she kissed him deeply, he was still a frog. By looking into the limpid depths of his eyes, she could tell he was gagging for it. Submissively tendering her final plea, she asked "Would it be alright if I sat on top of you?"
Got to go; my tea's ready.
Monday 22 October 2007
Strangers in bed together
So there we were, sitting on the bed together like a pair of strangers who'd suddenly found themselves in this situation. I don't think either of us knew what to do next! I was worried that I was going to hurt her - Ann screamed once before her hysterectomy - and every now and then I remembered that and... Shit; it had happened again. The Tower of Pisa became a gherkin.
I asked Ann if she'd mind me turning all the lights out and closing the curtains. She thought this would be a good idea! I needed some time with erotic thoughts to restore both manhood and ego. My usual nuns in fish-net stockings and suspenders seemed to have deserted me so I switched seamlessly to emergency plan B.
It's amazing how many times a good technical discussion can get you out of trouble. As I returned to the bed in the dark, I stubbed my toe on the bed post, uttered a barely audible Ow, and took up my original position beside Ann, taking her hand in mine.
"Pumpkin," I uttered lovingly, "Tonight has been the most wonderful night we've had since our first date. After all we've been through in the last ten years, I feel we just need a little time to re-discover each others bodies again - what do you think?"
All I heard was a sniff by way of reply and vaguely saw the ghostly effigy sitting beside me nod wisely, then...
"I think so too Pete," she murmured, "I don't know what you want from me anymore: we've had quite a few times in the last few years where neither of us got much out of it."
Now that hurt. I was on the verge of defending, justifying and attacking when I realized that her hand was resting on my thigh with the gherkin steadily climbing the tower. I recalled one of my bosses saying that I was 'objective orientated' and thankfully that talent shot to my rescue now.
"As this is our first date then, shall we just spend a little time learning how to pleasure each other before the bonk?" I whispered with great sensitivity.
"What a great idea Pete; can I go first!" And with that practiced movement that I could never get the hang of even with the benefit of being able to see what I was doing, off came the bra and pants.
It was strange, but as I felt Ann lying there beside me in the dark, I began to feel progressively closer to her. I sort of felt me lying beside her as well as the other way round. We weren't touching physically, but I could feel her body heat; we weren't talking, but we were communicating. I'd never experienced anything like it before, I only knew that I wanted it to go on and on. And the mad thing was that I instinctively knew that Ann was feeling exactly the same and didn't feel the need to break the spell by checking it out.
I don't know how long we lay like that before things got really weird. In my minds eye I saw myself looking down upon the bedroom scene, smiling a benevolent smile and sort of blessing this couple below. I've never felt so at peace or alive.
Ann said wondrously "I've just had an orgasm."
I said "How could you have done - I never touched you!
"I know, but I can assure you that I did: I've read somewhere that women with spinal injuries that are paralysed below the waist regularly have orgasms. I was feeling really close to you and it just sort of happened!"
"I know what you mean about the close bit" I admitted, "I felt that way too."
What followed has happened before (it's in the book). Before I've had the chance to get the filters in place to edit what I'm going to say next, it's out of my mouth leaving me to deal with the consequences.
"How much do we really know about how to turn each other on; not so much a component location guide, more of an 'it feels wonderful when you do this; oh yes, that's it.... oooh yes; a little bit gentler or a little bit higher..... ohmigod, yes.. yes.....YES. Do you know what I mean?"
"Do you really feel we can talk like that to each other like that Pete?"
"I'll give it a go if you will Pumpkin," and seconds later when we kissed, it felt like every nerve cell in my body was ringing loudly. I could hardly believe I'd been so openly vulnerable.
'I've never been so excited about going back to school,' I thought to myself, 'and why don't they teach you these things instead of all that crap that you'll never use again! Maybe the teachers don't know?'
Ooups, that's the door bell - so bye for now.
I asked Ann if she'd mind me turning all the lights out and closing the curtains. She thought this would be a good idea! I needed some time with erotic thoughts to restore both manhood and ego. My usual nuns in fish-net stockings and suspenders seemed to have deserted me so I switched seamlessly to emergency plan B.
It's amazing how many times a good technical discussion can get you out of trouble. As I returned to the bed in the dark, I stubbed my toe on the bed post, uttered a barely audible Ow, and took up my original position beside Ann, taking her hand in mine.
"Pumpkin," I uttered lovingly, "Tonight has been the most wonderful night we've had since our first date. After all we've been through in the last ten years, I feel we just need a little time to re-discover each others bodies again - what do you think?"
All I heard was a sniff by way of reply and vaguely saw the ghostly effigy sitting beside me nod wisely, then...
"I think so too Pete," she murmured, "I don't know what you want from me anymore: we've had quite a few times in the last few years where neither of us got much out of it."
Now that hurt. I was on the verge of defending, justifying and attacking when I realized that her hand was resting on my thigh with the gherkin steadily climbing the tower. I recalled one of my bosses saying that I was 'objective orientated' and thankfully that talent shot to my rescue now.
"As this is our first date then, shall we just spend a little time learning how to pleasure each other before the bonk?" I whispered with great sensitivity.
"What a great idea Pete; can I go first!" And with that practiced movement that I could never get the hang of even with the benefit of being able to see what I was doing, off came the bra and pants.
It was strange, but as I felt Ann lying there beside me in the dark, I began to feel progressively closer to her. I sort of felt me lying beside her as well as the other way round. We weren't touching physically, but I could feel her body heat; we weren't talking, but we were communicating. I'd never experienced anything like it before, I only knew that I wanted it to go on and on. And the mad thing was that I instinctively knew that Ann was feeling exactly the same and didn't feel the need to break the spell by checking it out.
I don't know how long we lay like that before things got really weird. In my minds eye I saw myself looking down upon the bedroom scene, smiling a benevolent smile and sort of blessing this couple below. I've never felt so at peace or alive.
Ann said wondrously "I've just had an orgasm."
I said "How could you have done - I never touched you!
"I know, but I can assure you that I did: I've read somewhere that women with spinal injuries that are paralysed below the waist regularly have orgasms. I was feeling really close to you and it just sort of happened!"
"I know what you mean about the close bit" I admitted, "I felt that way too."
What followed has happened before (it's in the book). Before I've had the chance to get the filters in place to edit what I'm going to say next, it's out of my mouth leaving me to deal with the consequences.
"How much do we really know about how to turn each other on; not so much a component location guide, more of an 'it feels wonderful when you do this; oh yes, that's it.... oooh yes; a little bit gentler or a little bit higher..... ohmigod, yes.. yes.....YES. Do you know what I mean?"
"Do you really feel we can talk like that to each other like that Pete?"
"I'll give it a go if you will Pumpkin," and seconds later when we kissed, it felt like every nerve cell in my body was ringing loudly. I could hardly believe I'd been so openly vulnerable.
'I've never been so excited about going back to school,' I thought to myself, 'and why don't they teach you these things instead of all that crap that you'll never use again! Maybe the teachers don't know?'
Ooups, that's the door bell - so bye for now.
Critical acclaim for the book
We have had the following exciting comments on the book from respected journals!
‘Hysterectomies for men is a stylish, elegant portrayal of one man's struggle against the forces of nature. The author’s command of both his subject and the English language is occasionally awe inspiring.’ Globe Artichoke News
‘You must be touched if you read this book’ Psychiatrists Monthly
‘I can’t wait for his next book’ Depression Weekly
"Pete: can I ask you something?"
"Pete: can I ask you something?"
"Course you can Pumpkin." I mean; lets face it, we were lying next to each other in the dark, stark naked, she couldn't see my face and we weren't even touching - how threatening could that be?
"What do you need to turn you on?"
Damn it if she doesn't start with a trick question! Still, might as well tell the truth.
"It can be anything really. Sometimes I think about it at work and come home gagging for it. Sometimes you're just bending over and I come over all randy. When we're on holiday and we're by the pool or on the beach, I can't wait to get back to the hotel. Even when we're out with friends and having a great time at opposite ends of the room, I can't wait to get you home. Trouble is, over the last ten years.... Anyway, how about you?"
"S'funny how different men and women are. Like you, all those times and more I've thought about it, but before anything happens for me in the desire department, I've got to feel good about me and I've got to feel good about us. If I'm not feeling good about me, I can't allow myself to enjoy things and if I'm not feeling loved by you at the time, I can't even get started. The last ten years have been hell: when I haven't had physical things to contend with, I've been fighting a running battle with what I've come to realise has been depression. That's why I want tonight to be so good for both of us - I really feel as if I've been set free after ten years of solitary confinement."
That really stopped me in my tracks. How many times had I thought that the gap between us was too wide for us to ever get back to where we used to be?
"So where do we go from here Pumpkin?"
"W e l l, you know you said I could go first a few minutes ago...."
"Ummm"
"Can I tell you what I sometimes dream about when I'm lying awake afterwards, sometimes?"
"Ummm"
"I feel a bit embarrassed about this, but, but....... could you touch me, sometimes, like, like I like to touch myself?"
This was hard. Whilst it would be great to be the fantastic lover that I always thought I was, it would also kind of be an admission of failure and our lack of a sex life all my fault. Reply time running out: tough call. "Ummm."
She hadn't finished yet.
"W e l l, I would love it if you could could just spin it out a bit longer. I love it when we've got plenty of time and the moods right. Call me an old romantic.."
So I did...
"Call me an old romantic....."
"You're a double old romantic;" and we both dissolved into laughter that reduced the tension that was building up and brought us back together again.
"Shall I tell you what I reely reeeely like when you do it?"
"Go on then"
"I love it when you just rub me all over with the palm of your hand with enough pressure not to tickle but just enough to speak to me through the power of touch; as if you were telling me how much you love me. And kiss me and stroke my hair and tell me how happy I make you. And all this time you've not gone anywhere near my naughty bits and I'm getting wet just thinking about it and the tension is building to an almost unbearable level. And then, when I'm almost ready to beg you, you almost absent mindedly do an ever so gentle circuit round the 'clock with no hands'. The relief is only temporary though because now I'm on a different level and my needs have changed. Now my whole body is alive and focused through those two areas. It's bliss when you gently tease my nipple with your tongue and gently, so gently give a little suckling pressure as your hand moves slowly down over my love mound without stopping at the station! My whole body is saying stop right there, but you continue down my leg until you run out of arm. Then you hand swivels over the top of my leg to my inner thigh. I sometimes have an orgasm right then. Now I'm on the top of the world. I'm no longer in the room; there's only you and me in the universe. It's the most exquisite teasing; it's almost painful. The tension as you move towards the signal box at the end of the station becomes unbearable until with a feather-light touch you skip round the box and I feel the electric shock from the tip of my toes to the top of my head. Then you swivel your hand so that your thumb still rests on my signal box whilst your finger enters the tunnel and finds my hot spot just inside on the back wall...... The signal box wants that train in the tunnel immediately. The more the train and it's carriages pass the hot spot, the bigger the pleasure boulder becomes, until finally, it is hurled into the once limpid pool with a massive splash succeeded by multiple waves of pleasure that go on for minutes afterwards. Then, as I return to planet earth, my happiness is made complete if you just hold me and whisper sweet nothings in my ear while stroking my hair."
"Bloody hell."
I was gob-smacked. I didn't realise I was that good and there were one or two things there that unbeknownst to Ann, I would be adding to my stunning repertoire in future. In the next half-hour in fact!
"As this is our first time since the operation Pete, would you mind if I went on top?"
You don't seriously think I'm going to tell you any more before Granny Moira phoned do you?
"Course you can Pumpkin." I mean; lets face it, we were lying next to each other in the dark, stark naked, she couldn't see my face and we weren't even touching - how threatening could that be?
"What do you need to turn you on?"
Damn it if she doesn't start with a trick question! Still, might as well tell the truth.
"It can be anything really. Sometimes I think about it at work and come home gagging for it. Sometimes you're just bending over and I come over all randy. When we're on holiday and we're by the pool or on the beach, I can't wait to get back to the hotel. Even when we're out with friends and having a great time at opposite ends of the room, I can't wait to get you home. Trouble is, over the last ten years.... Anyway, how about you?"
"S'funny how different men and women are. Like you, all those times and more I've thought about it, but before anything happens for me in the desire department, I've got to feel good about me and I've got to feel good about us. If I'm not feeling good about me, I can't allow myself to enjoy things and if I'm not feeling loved by you at the time, I can't even get started. The last ten years have been hell: when I haven't had physical things to contend with, I've been fighting a running battle with what I've come to realise has been depression. That's why I want tonight to be so good for both of us - I really feel as if I've been set free after ten years of solitary confinement."
That really stopped me in my tracks. How many times had I thought that the gap between us was too wide for us to ever get back to where we used to be?
"So where do we go from here Pumpkin?"
"W e l l, you know you said I could go first a few minutes ago...."
"Ummm"
"Can I tell you what I sometimes dream about when I'm lying awake afterwards, sometimes?"
"Ummm"
"I feel a bit embarrassed about this, but, but....... could you touch me, sometimes, like, like I like to touch myself?"
This was hard. Whilst it would be great to be the fantastic lover that I always thought I was, it would also kind of be an admission of failure and our lack of a sex life all my fault. Reply time running out: tough call. "Ummm."
She hadn't finished yet.
"W e l l, I would love it if you could could just spin it out a bit longer. I love it when we've got plenty of time and the moods right. Call me an old romantic.."
So I did...
"Call me an old romantic....."
"You're a double old romantic;" and we both dissolved into laughter that reduced the tension that was building up and brought us back together again.
"Shall I tell you what I reely reeeely like when you do it?"
"Go on then"
"I love it when you just rub me all over with the palm of your hand with enough pressure not to tickle but just enough to speak to me through the power of touch; as if you were telling me how much you love me. And kiss me and stroke my hair and tell me how happy I make you. And all this time you've not gone anywhere near my naughty bits and I'm getting wet just thinking about it and the tension is building to an almost unbearable level. And then, when I'm almost ready to beg you, you almost absent mindedly do an ever so gentle circuit round the 'clock with no hands'. The relief is only temporary though because now I'm on a different level and my needs have changed. Now my whole body is alive and focused through those two areas. It's bliss when you gently tease my nipple with your tongue and gently, so gently give a little suckling pressure as your hand moves slowly down over my love mound without stopping at the station! My whole body is saying stop right there, but you continue down my leg until you run out of arm. Then you hand swivels over the top of my leg to my inner thigh. I sometimes have an orgasm right then. Now I'm on the top of the world. I'm no longer in the room; there's only you and me in the universe. It's the most exquisite teasing; it's almost painful. The tension as you move towards the signal box at the end of the station becomes unbearable until with a feather-light touch you skip round the box and I feel the electric shock from the tip of my toes to the top of my head. Then you swivel your hand so that your thumb still rests on my signal box whilst your finger enters the tunnel and finds my hot spot just inside on the back wall...... The signal box wants that train in the tunnel immediately. The more the train and it's carriages pass the hot spot, the bigger the pleasure boulder becomes, until finally, it is hurled into the once limpid pool with a massive splash succeeded by multiple waves of pleasure that go on for minutes afterwards. Then, as I return to planet earth, my happiness is made complete if you just hold me and whisper sweet nothings in my ear while stroking my hair."
"Bloody hell."
I was gob-smacked. I didn't realise I was that good and there were one or two things there that unbeknownst to Ann, I would be adding to my stunning repertoire in future. In the next half-hour in fact!
"As this is our first time since the operation Pete, would you mind if I went on top?"
You don't seriously think I'm going to tell you any more before Granny Moira phoned do you?
Click Here To Buy The eBook - £1.99
The ebook 'Hysterectomies for Men' is a sensitive man's chronicle of his experiences during his wife's hysterectomy and the comedy that ensues. The blog takes up from where the book finishes.
Includes the following exciting information ...
1. OH GOD, WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO NOW?
Hysterectomy is a terrifying time for a man
2. WHAT’S IN IT FOR ME?
All the positives and escape from the negatives
3. WHERE’S THE FUN IN THAT?
A veritable feast of creative learning opportunities
4. COVERT OPERATIONS
How to help and support in the hospital days
5. LOGISTICAL TASKFORCE PLANNING
What to organise and network whilst she’s recovering
6. HOW LONG BEFORE YOU’RE BACK TO NORMAL?
Gradual recovery and resumption of normal life
7. WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘I’VE CHANGED?
How to make your hysterectomy the most positive event for your relationship
8. URM, I SUPPOSE A QUICKIE'S RIGHT OUT OF THE QUESTION?
How your sex life is going to be different
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Peter and Ann are having a hysterectomy. Pete is a sensitive man and wants to be with Ann every step of the way. Although it was initially hard for him, he was able to keep a diary which chronicles his passage through many formidable battles against seemingly overwhelming odds to emerge victorious. Ann doesn’t know what she’d have done without him. Probably better.
Includes the following exciting information ...
1. OH GOD, WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO NOW?
Hysterectomy is a terrifying time for a man
2. WHAT’S IN IT FOR ME?
All the positives and escape from the negatives
3. WHERE’S THE FUN IN THAT?
A veritable feast of creative learning opportunities
4. COVERT OPERATIONS
How to help and support in the hospital days
5. LOGISTICAL TASKFORCE PLANNING
What to organise and network whilst she’s recovering
6. HOW LONG BEFORE YOU’RE BACK TO NORMAL?
Gradual recovery and resumption of normal life
7. WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘I’VE CHANGED?
How to make your hysterectomy the most positive event for your relationship
8. URM, I SUPPOSE A QUICKIE'S RIGHT OUT OF THE QUESTION?
How your sex life is going to be different
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Peter and Ann are having a hysterectomy. Pete is a sensitive man and wants to be with Ann every step of the way. Although it was initially hard for him, he was able to keep a diary which chronicles his passage through many formidable battles against seemingly overwhelming odds to emerge victorious. Ann doesn’t know what she’d have done without him. Probably better.
If you have a sensitive man like Pete, this is a must-read document that may help him avoid some of the pitfalls that can occur when undertaking daunting tasks like using a washing machine, shopping and the multitude of other roles that can be more challenging to him than life itself. A counselling help-line will accompany this book.
Change the dance
Since Ann started back to work part-time, life has also begun to return to normal - whatever normal is; or was. Anyway, Ann said to me the other night that she felt like a new woman and I said that I felt like one too! Oh boy, did that start a row. I kept trying to tell her that I was joking but she just wouldn't listen.
Anyway, once she'd calmed down a bit, she came up with one of her Exocet questions.
"P e t e:" (I always know when a missile's on the way when she drags out my first name)
"P e t e; would you want to marry me again if the other night really had been our first date and I'd told you honestly about how I'd felt for the last few years?"
"I don't really know Pumpkin; how about you?" I've become pretty clever with my EAT responses (Exocet Avoidance Techniques).
"W e l l:"
Action Stations; full EAT alert - this is not a drill!
"W e l l; life has, no, sorry, life had become a little predictable don't you think?"
"Yes, well OK, I guess it had."
"So, what are we going to do about it?"
Emergency: Emergency. We have an EATing disorder; stand by to abandon ship.
"What's so bad about predictability all of a sudden; I thought you were longing for a bit of predictability after years of not being able to plan anything because of your bits."
"Well yes Pete, you're right and that's the point - with me only doing part-time now, we've got the opportunity to get some fun into our lives again, to be who we wanna be without all the restrictions we used to have. Come on Pete; don't say you don't want that too."
"Well Pumpkin, remember we've not got as much money coming in now that you've gone part-time."
Damage limitation procedures fully engaged: stand by to repel boarders.
"Having fun doesn't necessarily have to cost more though does it - surely it's more an attitude of mind. And we can change our minds, can't we?"
We've been hit below the waterline; abandon ship.
"Yeh, sure. What do you suggest?"
"W e l l ..... I've been thinking a lot about this recently and I've jotted a few things down; shall I get them?"
It' a carefully sprung trap and I've walked right into it. Don't panic Mr. Mannering!
"Yeh, sure. But don't forget there's something on telly that I wanna watch in ten minutes so you'll have to be quick."
"Are you telling me that the future of our relationship comes second to some crappy bloody repeat?"
She's stopped mid-stride and is glaring at me; daring me to answer in the affirmative. A brave man knows when to back down. The brave man spoke.
"No, of course not. I just don't want this to develop into another blazing argument."
"It takes two to tango Pete. Do we both have to sign a non-aggression treaty before we can discuss anything to do with our relationship?"
"What the hell - you go and get your jottings Pumpkin and I'll get us a cup of something and a piece of cake."
Yes; I know what you're thinking if you've read the book. Since Ann's taken over the kitchen, stuff is never in the same place as when I last used it. That's why I said a cup of something!
I'll tell you what she came up with tomorrow guys.
Anyway, once she'd calmed down a bit, she came up with one of her Exocet questions.
"P e t e:" (I always know when a missile's on the way when she drags out my first name)
"P e t e; would you want to marry me again if the other night really had been our first date and I'd told you honestly about how I'd felt for the last few years?"
"I don't really know Pumpkin; how about you?" I've become pretty clever with my EAT responses (Exocet Avoidance Techniques).
"W e l l:"
Action Stations; full EAT alert - this is not a drill!
"W e l l; life has, no, sorry, life had become a little predictable don't you think?"
"Yes, well OK, I guess it had."
"So, what are we going to do about it?"
Emergency: Emergency. We have an EATing disorder; stand by to abandon ship.
"What's so bad about predictability all of a sudden; I thought you were longing for a bit of predictability after years of not being able to plan anything because of your bits."
"Well yes Pete, you're right and that's the point - with me only doing part-time now, we've got the opportunity to get some fun into our lives again, to be who we wanna be without all the restrictions we used to have. Come on Pete; don't say you don't want that too."
"Well Pumpkin, remember we've not got as much money coming in now that you've gone part-time."
Damage limitation procedures fully engaged: stand by to repel boarders.
"Having fun doesn't necessarily have to cost more though does it - surely it's more an attitude of mind. And we can change our minds, can't we?"
We've been hit below the waterline; abandon ship.
"Yeh, sure. What do you suggest?"
"W e l l ..... I've been thinking a lot about this recently and I've jotted a few things down; shall I get them?"
It' a carefully sprung trap and I've walked right into it. Don't panic Mr. Mannering!
"Yeh, sure. But don't forget there's something on telly that I wanna watch in ten minutes so you'll have to be quick."
"Are you telling me that the future of our relationship comes second to some crappy bloody repeat?"
She's stopped mid-stride and is glaring at me; daring me to answer in the affirmative. A brave man knows when to back down. The brave man spoke.
"No, of course not. I just don't want this to develop into another blazing argument."
"It takes two to tango Pete. Do we both have to sign a non-aggression treaty before we can discuss anything to do with our relationship?"
"What the hell - you go and get your jottings Pumpkin and I'll get us a cup of something and a piece of cake."
Yes; I know what you're thinking if you've read the book. Since Ann's taken over the kitchen, stuff is never in the same place as when I last used it. That's why I said a cup of something!
I'll tell you what she came up with tomorrow guys.
"Do something different"
"Right then Pete, I know you don't want to do this by the look on your face, but you've just admitted that you also think that we've become a bit rigid and unexciting in our relationship as well, and you also think there's so much more to the 'us' than we're enjoying at the moment."
"I still think we're managing pretty well as we are."
"I absolutely agree. It's a miracle we're still together after everything we've been through these last ten years. We've both had it tough and I don't think there's a man on this planet whose tried harder than you. I think you're wonderful."
I was beginning to like the sound of this. Keep it coming!
"I have to admit Pumpkin, you've had to put up with almost as much as me and I think you're pretty terrific too."
"So do you want to know what I've thought about whilst I've been getting over the operation?"
"OK Pumpkin; hit me.
"W e l l; firstly I thought it would be good to spend some time every week away from the house, just you and me where we can just talk about all sorts of things that have come up for both of us during the week as a sort of a reflection on events that we've felt strongly about. For example, if we've had an argument, what else was going on at the time that made us so upset that we've gone on to spoil our evening over a trivial matter that we'd have normally sorted out easily and without any confrontation."
That didn't sound too threatening - I'd often wondered why something minor had sometimes been blown up out of all proportion. Anyway, Sundays could be a bit boring.
"Nice one Pumpkin, that sounds a brilliant idea; I'll go for that." While she was looking down at her piece of paper, I stole a glance at the clock. Two minutes till telly on.
"Is that it?"
There was a sudden flash of real anger in her eyes so I thought I'd better ask.
"What?"
"Pete. You'd better start taking this seriously. We're talking about the future of our marriage here and if you're saying that the bloody telly is more important than that, then I'm beginning to wonder if it's got any future at all!"
Shit; that woman must have eyes in her arse - I was sure she wasn't looking. Better cool it Pete.
"Sorry Pumpkin; I genuinely thought that you'd finished. That idea was brilliant - have you got any more?"
After a few seconds of a Paddington Bear Hard Stare, the axe murderess who'd briefly inhabited her body had gone and we were back in business.
"Sometimes Pete, I feel as if I'm just a part of the furniture. You never notice anything I've done, barely acknowledge me when you come in, don't even comment on my hair when I've had it done unless I specifically ask you and even then you say 'Very nice' without taking your eyes off the telly. I know I do the same with you - like when you've spent all day working on the car; so it's not just you. So my next wish is that we both make the effort to notice each other more and when the other does any act of kindness or consideration, we make a point of expressing our appreciation there and then."
'That was nice' I thought to myself, it's not just me then, and heard myself telling her to keep going - she's on a roll. This wasn't turning out to be the antiPete tirade I thought it was going to be. She actually smiled at me then!
"Only two more to go Pete."
"No Pumpkin, I think you've done a brilliant job. You've put a lot of work into this and I think it'll make things much better between us. Gimme more."
It was alright; I'd seen the game before and it was only the edited highlights.
"OK, thank-you Pete. This one's about doing something different every day that's unexpected by the other person. Could be anything; like you coming in the back door instead of the front when you come home or bringing me some flowers occasionally. Or me getting you something to eat that only you like, or getting you something from the supporters shop. Anything really just to show the other person that you're thinking about them even when they're away from you. Just that breaking with routine that requires conscious thought. Then, when we go out for our special time together each week, both of us will show that we've done the noticing bit by showing that we can recall those different events. I think that after a couple of weeks it will make quite a difference to our appreciation of each other and won't seem so contrived anymore."
"Blood and sand Pumpkin, you've put some work into this. What's the last one?"
"Well really it's an extension of the previous one. It's all about valuing and respecting each other. We've got to do something every day with the specific intention of making the other person happier. Could be as simple as a hug when I'm upset or bringing out a cup of coffee and some biscuits when you're working on the car. It doesn't matter what it is as long as the sole objective of the deed is to increase the other person's happiness. And that's about it really Pete; what do you think; can we give it a try and see if it makes a difference at the end of a couple of weeks?"
"Yeh, OK, lets give it a whirl. Want a cup of tea?"
"Oh yes please Pete; that'd be lovely.
"Great. I'm one ahead already!"
Must admit though, I'm quite looking forward to it - It'll break the monotony and could be a lotta laughs. Let you know how it's going next weekend.
"I still think we're managing pretty well as we are."
"I absolutely agree. It's a miracle we're still together after everything we've been through these last ten years. We've both had it tough and I don't think there's a man on this planet whose tried harder than you. I think you're wonderful."
I was beginning to like the sound of this. Keep it coming!
"I have to admit Pumpkin, you've had to put up with almost as much as me and I think you're pretty terrific too."
"So do you want to know what I've thought about whilst I've been getting over the operation?"
"OK Pumpkin; hit me.
"W e l l; firstly I thought it would be good to spend some time every week away from the house, just you and me where we can just talk about all sorts of things that have come up for both of us during the week as a sort of a reflection on events that we've felt strongly about. For example, if we've had an argument, what else was going on at the time that made us so upset that we've gone on to spoil our evening over a trivial matter that we'd have normally sorted out easily and without any confrontation."
That didn't sound too threatening - I'd often wondered why something minor had sometimes been blown up out of all proportion. Anyway, Sundays could be a bit boring.
"Nice one Pumpkin, that sounds a brilliant idea; I'll go for that." While she was looking down at her piece of paper, I stole a glance at the clock. Two minutes till telly on.
"Is that it?"
There was a sudden flash of real anger in her eyes so I thought I'd better ask.
"What?"
"Pete. You'd better start taking this seriously. We're talking about the future of our marriage here and if you're saying that the bloody telly is more important than that, then I'm beginning to wonder if it's got any future at all!"
Shit; that woman must have eyes in her arse - I was sure she wasn't looking. Better cool it Pete.
"Sorry Pumpkin; I genuinely thought that you'd finished. That idea was brilliant - have you got any more?"
After a few seconds of a Paddington Bear Hard Stare, the axe murderess who'd briefly inhabited her body had gone and we were back in business.
"Sometimes Pete, I feel as if I'm just a part of the furniture. You never notice anything I've done, barely acknowledge me when you come in, don't even comment on my hair when I've had it done unless I specifically ask you and even then you say 'Very nice' without taking your eyes off the telly. I know I do the same with you - like when you've spent all day working on the car; so it's not just you. So my next wish is that we both make the effort to notice each other more and when the other does any act of kindness or consideration, we make a point of expressing our appreciation there and then."
'That was nice' I thought to myself, it's not just me then, and heard myself telling her to keep going - she's on a roll. This wasn't turning out to be the antiPete tirade I thought it was going to be. She actually smiled at me then!
"Only two more to go Pete."
"No Pumpkin, I think you've done a brilliant job. You've put a lot of work into this and I think it'll make things much better between us. Gimme more."
It was alright; I'd seen the game before and it was only the edited highlights.
"OK, thank-you Pete. This one's about doing something different every day that's unexpected by the other person. Could be anything; like you coming in the back door instead of the front when you come home or bringing me some flowers occasionally. Or me getting you something to eat that only you like, or getting you something from the supporters shop. Anything really just to show the other person that you're thinking about them even when they're away from you. Just that breaking with routine that requires conscious thought. Then, when we go out for our special time together each week, both of us will show that we've done the noticing bit by showing that we can recall those different events. I think that after a couple of weeks it will make quite a difference to our appreciation of each other and won't seem so contrived anymore."
"Blood and sand Pumpkin, you've put some work into this. What's the last one?"
"Well really it's an extension of the previous one. It's all about valuing and respecting each other. We've got to do something every day with the specific intention of making the other person happier. Could be as simple as a hug when I'm upset or bringing out a cup of coffee and some biscuits when you're working on the car. It doesn't matter what it is as long as the sole objective of the deed is to increase the other person's happiness. And that's about it really Pete; what do you think; can we give it a try and see if it makes a difference at the end of a couple of weeks?"
"Yeh, OK, lets give it a whirl. Want a cup of tea?"
"Oh yes please Pete; that'd be lovely.
"Great. I'm one ahead already!"
Must admit though, I'm quite looking forward to it - It'll break the monotony and could be a lotta laughs. Let you know how it's going next weekend.
Am I really strange?
It's been a while since I last put anything on here and it's quite strange really. I've missed it.
After reading my last blog before the weekend, I decided to make a mental note of any thoughts that anyone else might think of as strange. And then forgot all about it.
Ann was away on an Introduction to Counselling course and Bill and Jean came over for the day from Hampshire. Anyway, we went over to Weymouth seafront for a long walk and all down the promanade, there are posters advertising Monkey World, the Aquarium and things like that. I was fascinated. They had a picture of just an apes head - it was if I could tell exactly what his (or her) thoughts were and within seconds I was totally absorbed. As a wave of sadness came over me, I looked at another segment of the same poster with a youngster and a monkey looking straight at the camera. Bill had gone walking on ahead, so I asked Jean what she thought these two were saying to each other and made-up the conversation that I thought they were having. Although she was a bit reluctant at first, we were soon in fits of laughter and the strangest thing. We soon had a small crowd, and the kids especially were making their own suggestions and everyone was hooting with laughter.
Next to the Monkey World poster was one for the Aquarium. There were various tropical fish and a diver in the foreground. Slightly further back in the picture, unseen by man and fish presumably, was a shark with his mouth slightly open and the camera had obviously caught him mid-sentence. It all seemed so natural that I asked the crowd to complete the two conversations, the one between man and fish; the other voicing the sharks thoughts on the matter. We had parents trying to drag their children away with some kids still contributing from twenty yards away, others shouting to make themselves heard, Jean and I curled up with laughter, and a friendly policeman coming over to see what all the fuss was about while evidently trying not to laugh himself.
Sometimes I think I've never really grown up. I've always found men quite difficult to relate to, prefering women because they seem to have so much more sparkle. But the most wonderful people on the planet are kids because they're so unaffected and natural. And they laugh. Lots. And it's the most wonderful sound in the world.
After reading my last blog before the weekend, I decided to make a mental note of any thoughts that anyone else might think of as strange. And then forgot all about it.
Ann was away on an Introduction to Counselling course and Bill and Jean came over for the day from Hampshire. Anyway, we went over to Weymouth seafront for a long walk and all down the promanade, there are posters advertising Monkey World, the Aquarium and things like that. I was fascinated. They had a picture of just an apes head - it was if I could tell exactly what his (or her) thoughts were and within seconds I was totally absorbed. As a wave of sadness came over me, I looked at another segment of the same poster with a youngster and a monkey looking straight at the camera. Bill had gone walking on ahead, so I asked Jean what she thought these two were saying to each other and made-up the conversation that I thought they were having. Although she was a bit reluctant at first, we were soon in fits of laughter and the strangest thing. We soon had a small crowd, and the kids especially were making their own suggestions and everyone was hooting with laughter.
Next to the Monkey World poster was one for the Aquarium. There were various tropical fish and a diver in the foreground. Slightly further back in the picture, unseen by man and fish presumably, was a shark with his mouth slightly open and the camera had obviously caught him mid-sentence. It all seemed so natural that I asked the crowd to complete the two conversations, the one between man and fish; the other voicing the sharks thoughts on the matter. We had parents trying to drag their children away with some kids still contributing from twenty yards away, others shouting to make themselves heard, Jean and I curled up with laughter, and a friendly policeman coming over to see what all the fuss was about while evidently trying not to laugh himself.
Sometimes I think I've never really grown up. I've always found men quite difficult to relate to, prefering women because they seem to have so much more sparkle. But the most wonderful people on the planet are kids because they're so unaffected and natural. And they laugh. Lots. And it's the most wonderful sound in the world.
Mysteriouser and mysteriouser
If anyone were to ask me if I trusted Ann, my immediate response would be 'Yes, of course I do'. But there have been some strange events happening during the last few weeks that were either unexplained or when asked about, received a response that didn't quite ring true. Nothing hard and fast you understand; just a feeling in my water. Like the phone ringing and when I answered it, the handset was put down quickly. Not just once, six or seven times. And Ann rushing down in the morning to be the first to see the mail and a couple of times going through into the living room to sort it before I came down.
By the time I got to Wednesday, let's just say my suspicions were aroused ever so slightly. Then, when Ann's usually home by the time I get in, she'd rung to say she'd got a few things to do in town and wouldn't be home till around six. When she eventually got in at about twenty past, she was so happy, she was almost hyper! I didn't say anything, but then I started re-interpreting all the previous 'evidence' that would support what I was beginning to believe might be happening. By the time I went to bed for a night full of anything but sleep, I was sure that she was having an affair. At three in the morning, I was downstairs trying to work out what to do. I eventually decided to become increasingly watchful before what I assumed would be the inevitable confrontation.
And that was all before Friday; one of Ann's days off. Just casual conversation in the kitchen before I went to work, yielded as an almost offhand comment that Ann was going to meet-up with her friend Julie from work after she'd finished, to talk about some arrangements for a girlie night-out. I found it really difficult to concentrate on work that day and spent most of the time working out a cunning plan that couldn't possibly backfire on me.
I phoned home mid-afternoon and as suspected, Ann wasn't there. I left a message on the answerphone to ask her to get me some of my favourite aftershave whilst she was in town. Then I immediately phoned Julie at work and asked her if she was seeing Ann today. Although she sounded a little pre-occupied, she said
"No; I won't be seeing Ann again till she comes in next Tuesday; why?"
"It's OK" I said, "I can't get hold of her and just wondered if you might be seeing her this afternoon so that you could pass on a message. Don't worry, nothing too important. Got to go, thanks Julie; byee."
I've never done this before, but I just had to know if anything was going on. I went straight upstairs and started looking through Ann's pockets and things. I'd only been looking for a couple of minutes when I found what I'd hoped I'd never find. A hotel receipt. I just went into meltdown. I couldn't think; never mind think straight. Why? We'd been getting on together absolutely brilliantly. This couldn't be happening. But it was. Or could there be another explanation? Or am I just fooling myself? How long has this been going on? Who with - do I know him? Or her. It was all just going round and round.
By the time Ann came home, I'd resolved to have it out with her as soon as the time was right. Until then, I was going to keep well out of the way lest in my heightened emotional state I let the cat out of the bag.
Saturday was pure hell even though I went to the match and unusually, went for a drink with my mates afterwards. Not that I'd discuss the matter with them - they'd laugh me out of town for firstly being so stupid and secondly for not taking immediate action to have it out with her. In the little time I spent with Ann, she kept asking me if anything was wrong as if she could sense trouble. By the time I got in, Ann was already in bed and I went into the spare room to avoid waking her - she says I snore when I've been drinking.
Sunday - apparently I'd promised - we were going out for a meal together to talk about Ann's three wish review. And here was I preparing to expose a crime against humanity. Although I didn't propose to furnish hard evidence at the last supper, I did have in my pocket a list of the things that I'd found to support my allegations. Yeh, as you can imagine, Sunday from waking to meal time was the longest day of my life.
Ann wanted to know why I'd chosen an out of village pub to eat in and I glibly answered that I was doing something different as per her wish list, rather than go to our usual haunt. Obviously I didn't want any villagers to witness the last supper. Nothing in life had prepared me for this moment, and I admit that I bottled out twice in the time it took between thinking how I was going to start the conversation and the words actually reaching my mouth. I must have looked like a goldfish. Then, just when the two executive functions had finally synchronised, Ann took the wind out of my sails and scrambled the entire thought-train by idly asking if I'd got anything planned for a week on Friday.
The same night as the hotel booking receipt!
I was gobsmacked. The sheer audacity of the bloody woman. She even wanted me out of the house whilst she was getting ready to get herself shagged bloody stupid! No problem forming the words now, no excessive filtration, no time delay between brain and mouth; straight in there......
"Why do you ask?" I heard myself loading the trap.
"I just wanted you to keep that day free" she said airily.
"Where were you on Friday?" I enquired almost nonchalantly.
"I was just doing some last minute shopping for the weekend: why?"
"I thought you were having some girlie time with Julie?"
"Yes; I heard that you were checking up on me. Julie phoned me a few minutes after you rang her and told me about the strange phone call."
I just couldn't help it....
"What about the hotel receipt dated Friday for an advanced booking on the 31st?"
She suddenly realised she'd been caught out. Her eyes opened wide as she shook her head in confusion. Then the tears came and the mascara ran. And as she suddenly realised that I evidently knew everything, her eyes opened even wider as she understood the enormity of the likely consequences of her actions. But instead of the expected explanations and vows that 'it was only the once' and that 'it was over now' and 'she was drunk and it was all his fault', she went all belligerent and had the temerity to spit out....
"You've been through my things!"
I was still waiting for the 'it didn't mean anything and it's you that I love' stuff when she repeated herself.
"I can't believe it; you've been through my things!"
Blood and sand - I could hardly believe that she was trying to make me, the victim, the guilty party. Time to put an end to this charade.
"Come on, admit it - just tell me who's the lucky fellah that's getting your undivided attention on the 31st.?"
What a bloody actress. Her face showed more emotions in the next five seconds than there is English words to describe. The three that do have words were distress, hurt and pain. But the final one I was totally unprepared for. Anger.
She fumbled around in her bag for a couple of seconds before fishing out a small leaflet and smacking it down on the table in front of me.
I remember seeing a film based on a condemned man about to be shot, having the whole of his life pass before his eyes.
When I was a young teenager and fighting someone who was both bigger and stronger than me, although I was gradually getting the upper hand, he suddenly kicked me in the balls. I couldn't see, think or breathe for what seemed like an eternity.
When I came to after being admitted into the Gynae ward at the hospital where we had our hysterectomy, my mind just couldn't comprehend what I was seeing and hearing.
I suddenly realised that I was now experiencing all three mind blowing events simultaneously.
The little scrap of paper was simply an invite. An invite to a surprise fiftieth birthday celebration. To be held at a well-known hotel in the area. For some ungrateful bastard called Pete.
I don't know if I can do this blog anymore.
By the time I got to Wednesday, let's just say my suspicions were aroused ever so slightly. Then, when Ann's usually home by the time I get in, she'd rung to say she'd got a few things to do in town and wouldn't be home till around six. When she eventually got in at about twenty past, she was so happy, she was almost hyper! I didn't say anything, but then I started re-interpreting all the previous 'evidence' that would support what I was beginning to believe might be happening. By the time I went to bed for a night full of anything but sleep, I was sure that she was having an affair. At three in the morning, I was downstairs trying to work out what to do. I eventually decided to become increasingly watchful before what I assumed would be the inevitable confrontation.
And that was all before Friday; one of Ann's days off. Just casual conversation in the kitchen before I went to work, yielded as an almost offhand comment that Ann was going to meet-up with her friend Julie from work after she'd finished, to talk about some arrangements for a girlie night-out. I found it really difficult to concentrate on work that day and spent most of the time working out a cunning plan that couldn't possibly backfire on me.
I phoned home mid-afternoon and as suspected, Ann wasn't there. I left a message on the answerphone to ask her to get me some of my favourite aftershave whilst she was in town. Then I immediately phoned Julie at work and asked her if she was seeing Ann today. Although she sounded a little pre-occupied, she said
"No; I won't be seeing Ann again till she comes in next Tuesday; why?"
"It's OK" I said, "I can't get hold of her and just wondered if you might be seeing her this afternoon so that you could pass on a message. Don't worry, nothing too important. Got to go, thanks Julie; byee."
I've never done this before, but I just had to know if anything was going on. I went straight upstairs and started looking through Ann's pockets and things. I'd only been looking for a couple of minutes when I found what I'd hoped I'd never find. A hotel receipt. I just went into meltdown. I couldn't think; never mind think straight. Why? We'd been getting on together absolutely brilliantly. This couldn't be happening. But it was. Or could there be another explanation? Or am I just fooling myself? How long has this been going on? Who with - do I know him? Or her. It was all just going round and round.
By the time Ann came home, I'd resolved to have it out with her as soon as the time was right. Until then, I was going to keep well out of the way lest in my heightened emotional state I let the cat out of the bag.
Saturday was pure hell even though I went to the match and unusually, went for a drink with my mates afterwards. Not that I'd discuss the matter with them - they'd laugh me out of town for firstly being so stupid and secondly for not taking immediate action to have it out with her. In the little time I spent with Ann, she kept asking me if anything was wrong as if she could sense trouble. By the time I got in, Ann was already in bed and I went into the spare room to avoid waking her - she says I snore when I've been drinking.
Sunday - apparently I'd promised - we were going out for a meal together to talk about Ann's three wish review. And here was I preparing to expose a crime against humanity. Although I didn't propose to furnish hard evidence at the last supper, I did have in my pocket a list of the things that I'd found to support my allegations. Yeh, as you can imagine, Sunday from waking to meal time was the longest day of my life.
Ann wanted to know why I'd chosen an out of village pub to eat in and I glibly answered that I was doing something different as per her wish list, rather than go to our usual haunt. Obviously I didn't want any villagers to witness the last supper. Nothing in life had prepared me for this moment, and I admit that I bottled out twice in the time it took between thinking how I was going to start the conversation and the words actually reaching my mouth. I must have looked like a goldfish. Then, just when the two executive functions had finally synchronised, Ann took the wind out of my sails and scrambled the entire thought-train by idly asking if I'd got anything planned for a week on Friday.
The same night as the hotel booking receipt!
I was gobsmacked. The sheer audacity of the bloody woman. She even wanted me out of the house whilst she was getting ready to get herself shagged bloody stupid! No problem forming the words now, no excessive filtration, no time delay between brain and mouth; straight in there......
"Why do you ask?" I heard myself loading the trap.
"I just wanted you to keep that day free" she said airily.
"Where were you on Friday?" I enquired almost nonchalantly.
"I was just doing some last minute shopping for the weekend: why?"
"I thought you were having some girlie time with Julie?"
"Yes; I heard that you were checking up on me. Julie phoned me a few minutes after you rang her and told me about the strange phone call."
I just couldn't help it....
"What about the hotel receipt dated Friday for an advanced booking on the 31st?"
She suddenly realised she'd been caught out. Her eyes opened wide as she shook her head in confusion. Then the tears came and the mascara ran. And as she suddenly realised that I evidently knew everything, her eyes opened even wider as she understood the enormity of the likely consequences of her actions. But instead of the expected explanations and vows that 'it was only the once' and that 'it was over now' and 'she was drunk and it was all his fault', she went all belligerent and had the temerity to spit out....
"You've been through my things!"
I was still waiting for the 'it didn't mean anything and it's you that I love' stuff when she repeated herself.
"I can't believe it; you've been through my things!"
Blood and sand - I could hardly believe that she was trying to make me, the victim, the guilty party. Time to put an end to this charade.
"Come on, admit it - just tell me who's the lucky fellah that's getting your undivided attention on the 31st.?"
What a bloody actress. Her face showed more emotions in the next five seconds than there is English words to describe. The three that do have words were distress, hurt and pain. But the final one I was totally unprepared for. Anger.
She fumbled around in her bag for a couple of seconds before fishing out a small leaflet and smacking it down on the table in front of me.
I remember seeing a film based on a condemned man about to be shot, having the whole of his life pass before his eyes.
When I was a young teenager and fighting someone who was both bigger and stronger than me, although I was gradually getting the upper hand, he suddenly kicked me in the balls. I couldn't see, think or breathe for what seemed like an eternity.
When I came to after being admitted into the Gynae ward at the hospital where we had our hysterectomy, my mind just couldn't comprehend what I was seeing and hearing.
I suddenly realised that I was now experiencing all three mind blowing events simultaneously.
The little scrap of paper was simply an invite. An invite to a surprise fiftieth birthday celebration. To be held at a well-known hotel in the area. For some ungrateful bastard called Pete.
I don't know if I can do this blog anymore.
My old friend
I don't know why I'm coming back to this blog. I think it's because that it's the only way I can record my thoughts without my brain getting in the way. It's funny, but when I do it on paper, I end up with a page with more crossings out than text. With my old friend here, I seem to be able to just unload my thoughts without ever looking at the screen and because the spell check and delete button are so instantaneous, when I eventually do look at the screen, if the whole thing's a disaster, the remedy is quick and satisfyig.
My 50th. was brilliant. Thanks to Ann. No thanks to me. All through the evening, I just couldn't believe what a shit I'd been. Things haven't been too good between us since then. Ann is somehow distant and in spite of working part-time, spends more time out of the house than in it.
There's a take-over in the air at work and although I've taken over from Jeff as temporary manager while he's off with stress, I'm just finding things at home difficult and on my mind constantly. And that's not good. Cos I'm cutting the mustard at work and making a few changes that have needed doing for years. But that's a bit of a problem too - people are relating to me differently as if I'm the other side of the fence now. Except for Angel.
As Jeff's - now my - secretary, we'd always been mates and it was me that had shortened her name by one letter. Now we were working together more closely, we occasionally worked right through lunch. But yesterday she suggested we go to the pub for lunch. I'm not stupid; alarm bells rang and I declined. But for the first time in weeks, nay months, I didn't have thoughts of home pre-occupying my thoughts all afternoon. I wondered if I were unconsciously giving off the wrong messages, although I would never discuss Ann's and my relationship with anyone, no matter what. Still, I did wonder.
I've been thinking a lot recently whether thinking a lot does you any good? I've got a 'me' that everyone thinks is the real me, and the 'real me' that everyone sees depends on what I want them to see. And for each person there are subtle differences dependant on what I feel they'll find attractive and cause them to want to know me better. And all this goes on before I open my mouth! So like I say, I've been thinking whether I'm doing too much thinking. And I wonder whether everyone has these thoughts or am I strange. I sometimes think I'm in 'The Truman Show'.
And there's something else. I frequently build the most unlikely things into a surreal comedy sketch. It can happen at the most inappropriate times too - in important meetings, in the car because of the shape of a tree or a cloud, during nookie, anywhere;anytime. The image suddenly comes into my head and I start laughing. I love it: until other people start looking at me strangely and on the odd occasion that I've described the scene and added the dialogue from my two imaginary friends, they've shaken their head as if I've completely taken leave of my senses. I think I'm normal, but how can you tell for sure?
Do you have to be mad to be happy? Or are happy people always a bit mad? And doesn't everyone have thoughts like these and is just too embarrassed to say? I can't imagine what it must be like not to have all these happy thoughts - I don't think I'd survive the hard times without them. I must assume that everyone has them. I just wish they didn't only play in my head. I love doing Am Dram comedies and have to work really hard at sticking to the script - I 'went off on one' during a performance once and although the audience loved it (they didn't have the script), my fellow players swore they'd never perform with me again! They did thank goodness, but it took a lot of humble pie.
A friend of mine works with the Samaritans and he says that there's been a massive rise in young men committing suicide immediately after they have posted their dying thoughts into the ether. I can understand that a bit better now. That's how I'm going to use my blog - no-ones reading my book nor my blog, so I'm just going to use it as my own private world where I don't have to impress anybody. Cos I'm not strange to me - it's everyone else who's mad!
My 50th. was brilliant. Thanks to Ann. No thanks to me. All through the evening, I just couldn't believe what a shit I'd been. Things haven't been too good between us since then. Ann is somehow distant and in spite of working part-time, spends more time out of the house than in it.
There's a take-over in the air at work and although I've taken over from Jeff as temporary manager while he's off with stress, I'm just finding things at home difficult and on my mind constantly. And that's not good. Cos I'm cutting the mustard at work and making a few changes that have needed doing for years. But that's a bit of a problem too - people are relating to me differently as if I'm the other side of the fence now. Except for Angel.
As Jeff's - now my - secretary, we'd always been mates and it was me that had shortened her name by one letter. Now we were working together more closely, we occasionally worked right through lunch. But yesterday she suggested we go to the pub for lunch. I'm not stupid; alarm bells rang and I declined. But for the first time in weeks, nay months, I didn't have thoughts of home pre-occupying my thoughts all afternoon. I wondered if I were unconsciously giving off the wrong messages, although I would never discuss Ann's and my relationship with anyone, no matter what. Still, I did wonder.
I've been thinking a lot recently whether thinking a lot does you any good? I've got a 'me' that everyone thinks is the real me, and the 'real me' that everyone sees depends on what I want them to see. And for each person there are subtle differences dependant on what I feel they'll find attractive and cause them to want to know me better. And all this goes on before I open my mouth! So like I say, I've been thinking whether I'm doing too much thinking. And I wonder whether everyone has these thoughts or am I strange. I sometimes think I'm in 'The Truman Show'.
And there's something else. I frequently build the most unlikely things into a surreal comedy sketch. It can happen at the most inappropriate times too - in important meetings, in the car because of the shape of a tree or a cloud, during nookie, anywhere;anytime. The image suddenly comes into my head and I start laughing. I love it: until other people start looking at me strangely and on the odd occasion that I've described the scene and added the dialogue from my two imaginary friends, they've shaken their head as if I've completely taken leave of my senses. I think I'm normal, but how can you tell for sure?
Do you have to be mad to be happy? Or are happy people always a bit mad? And doesn't everyone have thoughts like these and is just too embarrassed to say? I can't imagine what it must be like not to have all these happy thoughts - I don't think I'd survive the hard times without them. I must assume that everyone has them. I just wish they didn't only play in my head. I love doing Am Dram comedies and have to work really hard at sticking to the script - I 'went off on one' during a performance once and although the audience loved it (they didn't have the script), my fellow players swore they'd never perform with me again! They did thank goodness, but it took a lot of humble pie.
A friend of mine works with the Samaritans and he says that there's been a massive rise in young men committing suicide immediately after they have posted their dying thoughts into the ether. I can understand that a bit better now. That's how I'm going to use my blog - no-ones reading my book nor my blog, so I'm just going to use it as my own private world where I don't have to impress anybody. Cos I'm not strange to me - it's everyone else who's mad!
She would've been 21 yesterday.
I've never said anything about her for years.
I think about her every day. I dream about her two or three times a week. I see girls of the same age as she would have been having fun in the town, and I cry inside. I even, in unguarded moments, look forward to dying so I can be with her. I long to talk about her with Ann, but we made an agreement all those years ago that neither of us has broken, not even in counselling.
So yesterday I just couldn't stand it any longer.
I didn't go into work - unbeknownst to Ann. I went into town and bought a dozen red roses and went up to the cemetery. I hadn't been up there for a couple of weeks yet the grass was cut and there were fresh flowers in the urn. I just sat by the graveside and cried. For the umpteenth time I went through the final stages of pregnancy, the birth and the forty-three hours that our darling Laura was with us. She looked so beautiful as I held her body in my arms, and in my mind's eye those moments were just as vivid as if they were happening all over again while I sat there on the cold wet grass.
I was in a world of my own, my tears dripping down onto the rose buds. From another world, I could hear someone screaming "Oh God; no, no, don't do this. Go away, go awa ..... before the sound stopped and someone started hitting me, the punches getting gradually weaker. I looked up and saw an exhausted Ann now trying to push me away with a desperate yet pleading look in her eyes. I think it was that look that brought me to my senses.
"She was my daughter too," I sobbed in a voice somewhere between distress and anger.
The life seemed to drain out of Ann. I caught her before she collapsed. No words were appropriate nor necessary. We both needed to be held in our own space not of this world. The hug started off with a desperate intensity, each within our own private misery, travelled through a growing awareness of the other person and ended with compassion and love. After twenty-one years, Laura's loss was beginning a re-unification of mind, body and spirit. We looked at each other, telepathised with ease, smiled and nodded at each other, joined hands and made our way home.
We had so much to catch up on and lay to rest. Two hearts would stop existing and start living again. We both knew it without a word being spoken.
I think about her every day. I dream about her two or three times a week. I see girls of the same age as she would have been having fun in the town, and I cry inside. I even, in unguarded moments, look forward to dying so I can be with her. I long to talk about her with Ann, but we made an agreement all those years ago that neither of us has broken, not even in counselling.
So yesterday I just couldn't stand it any longer.
I didn't go into work - unbeknownst to Ann. I went into town and bought a dozen red roses and went up to the cemetery. I hadn't been up there for a couple of weeks yet the grass was cut and there were fresh flowers in the urn. I just sat by the graveside and cried. For the umpteenth time I went through the final stages of pregnancy, the birth and the forty-three hours that our darling Laura was with us. She looked so beautiful as I held her body in my arms, and in my mind's eye those moments were just as vivid as if they were happening all over again while I sat there on the cold wet grass.
I was in a world of my own, my tears dripping down onto the rose buds. From another world, I could hear someone screaming "Oh God; no, no, don't do this. Go away, go awa ..... before the sound stopped and someone started hitting me, the punches getting gradually weaker. I looked up and saw an exhausted Ann now trying to push me away with a desperate yet pleading look in her eyes. I think it was that look that brought me to my senses.
"She was my daughter too," I sobbed in a voice somewhere between distress and anger.
The life seemed to drain out of Ann. I caught her before she collapsed. No words were appropriate nor necessary. We both needed to be held in our own space not of this world. The hug started off with a desperate intensity, each within our own private misery, travelled through a growing awareness of the other person and ended with compassion and love. After twenty-one years, Laura's loss was beginning a re-unification of mind, body and spirit. We looked at each other, telepathised with ease, smiled and nodded at each other, joined hands and made our way home.
We had so much to catch up on and lay to rest. Two hearts would stop existing and start living again. We both knew it without a word being spoken.
Twenty-one years later
We got in, Ann flopped exhausted onto the couch and I made us a cuppa. When I took it through, Ann was staring fixedly at the fireplace.
"Penny for them" I said gently.
"Where on earth are we going to start?" She answered wearily.
"Let's start with the good times" I suggested. "I'll go and get Laura's box."
"Do you know where it is?" Ann asked.
Inwardly, I had a sudden flare of temper. 'Course I know where it is - where I bloody well left it yesterday', I thought to myself!
"It's under the bed in the spare bedroom" Ann shouted up to me.
But when I got there, the box had been moved to the other side of the bed!! I was flabbergasted; for all these years I'd been so careful to always return the box to exactly the same position as I'd found it. Ann had obviously been looking in there too!! Why didn't she tell me, why couldn't we look together, why couldn't we share the only thing that joined us yet kept us apart.
"Can't you find it?" Ann shouted up.
There was something in her voice that sounded different and seconds later I could hear her coming up the stairs. She walked into the bedroom, took the box out of my hands and put it behind us on the bed. Then she took hold of my hand and kissed it before she sat down beside me.
"I don't think we need the box to come between us any more Pete. I know that since forever we've both been pouring all our unspoken grief into that box instead of talking to each other, but now I think it's time to move on!!!!"
I was just about to say something when she stopped me.
"Just let me talk Pete" she said so quietly that I could only just hear her.
"I know I'm the one that insisted on the silence since we gave up trying for a baby, but it came to me in a blinding flash when we were hugging in the graveyard: we've just got to let Laura go; it's killing the you and me in 'us'.
I was absolutely stunned, as if I'd suddenly beamed down into another dimension.
"Say something Pete" prodded Ann after the silence had grown into an elephant.
I turned and looked right into her eyes, trying to probe her soul.
"You knew?" I asked in a voice that sounded incredulous, even to me.
"Course I knew" she said lovingly whilst patting my hand as you would a hurt child. "Course I knew. I knew every time, no matter how much care you took to try and replace things in the box exactly as you found them. I really loved you for that. And me like a silly Moo carried on the charade. I just feel as if I've been wallowing for ever, while life passed us by. And I think I want to talk before we let Laura go and get on with today. Will you help me do that Pete?"
Tears were streaming down my face as I nodded my head slightly, gave Ann a weak smile and started to get up. Suddenly I was overpowered by a desperate need to hold and be held by Ann: I swung her round and we became as one.
When we got back downstairs, I think we were both aware that things between us had changed massively. We were about to share all the hurt and pain that individually, we'd so effectively managed to grow inside ourselves like a malignant cancer until there were so many 'no go' areas in our relationship, that it felt as if we were each surrounded by a minefield. How many times had I dreaded this moment that I'd always been sure would eventually come! Yet here was me, in the time it took to go down stairs, considering the thought that maybe two new people were about to be born!
I think the word 'outpouring' about covers it. I think that instead of the expected 'grief,' the over-riding emotion was some sort of guilt!!
We never did find out for sure why Laura died other than that she was ten weeks premature. Apparently, Ann had always thought it was her fault to the extent that, unbeknownst to me, she had twice come close to committing suicide. Her Mum had actually caught her about to do it on the second occasion. My 'couldn't stand the woman' reverted to 'she's OK' in an instant on hearing that!
"I know I shut you out for months after we lost her and although the consultant said that we should try again as soon as we felt ready, I just couldn't stand you coming near me physically."
I must have looked shocked to hear voiced, something that had previously been only a deeply imprinted memory. She obviously felt me tense up and started (I guess) to try to soften what she'd just said. I started to withdraw my hand from hers, she got the wrong idea, and clasped it even tighter. I gently loosened her grip with my other hand and placed it over hers and said,
"No, don't stop; let's get all the gore out of the wound instead of constantly sticking more and more Elastoplast on it. It's got to heal sometime and I can't think of a better birthday present for our little girl. Go on.... please Ann. She interrogated my eyes before continuing.
"When we eventually decided to go and discuss IVF and saved enough money for our contribution, I remember the consultant uttering the devastating news - that it had a very low success rate. Then when you went for your sperm count test and we found that it was low, it seemed like the end of the world. You went on the medication to improve things from your end, and month after month we did everything we could around my ovulation time to increase our chances. Every month the pregnancy test kit showed the same result. Nothing. It was soul destroying. I hated myself. I blamed you. It was never making love; we were mechanically trying to make a baby. And.....and ..we ...failed ........ No; no, wait Pete, don't say anything... I began to hate my unproductive bloody production plant, I hated your useless Willie ..I've spent nine years in a pit, and I'm ... I'm .. fucking fed up with it!"
It was many minutes of painful sobbing, streaming eyes and running noses before she managed a loving tentative smile and said "Pete, you're a wonderful man. How you've put up with me all these years I'll never know .... Can we go back and start again, or has too much happened, or have I said too much?"
"Just about right Pumpkin" I said with a smile conveying ten years worth of relief and a future full of happiness. "I think a nice cup of tea and a piece of cake are called for, waddyah reckon?"
"Penny for them" I said gently.
"Where on earth are we going to start?" She answered wearily.
"Let's start with the good times" I suggested. "I'll go and get Laura's box."
"Do you know where it is?" Ann asked.
Inwardly, I had a sudden flare of temper. 'Course I know where it is - where I bloody well left it yesterday', I thought to myself!
"It's under the bed in the spare bedroom" Ann shouted up to me.
But when I got there, the box had been moved to the other side of the bed!! I was flabbergasted; for all these years I'd been so careful to always return the box to exactly the same position as I'd found it. Ann had obviously been looking in there too!! Why didn't she tell me, why couldn't we look together, why couldn't we share the only thing that joined us yet kept us apart.
"Can't you find it?" Ann shouted up.
There was something in her voice that sounded different and seconds later I could hear her coming up the stairs. She walked into the bedroom, took the box out of my hands and put it behind us on the bed. Then she took hold of my hand and kissed it before she sat down beside me.
"I don't think we need the box to come between us any more Pete. I know that since forever we've both been pouring all our unspoken grief into that box instead of talking to each other, but now I think it's time to move on!!!!"
I was just about to say something when she stopped me.
"Just let me talk Pete" she said so quietly that I could only just hear her.
"I know I'm the one that insisted on the silence since we gave up trying for a baby, but it came to me in a blinding flash when we were hugging in the graveyard: we've just got to let Laura go; it's killing the you and me in 'us'.
I was absolutely stunned, as if I'd suddenly beamed down into another dimension.
"Say something Pete" prodded Ann after the silence had grown into an elephant.
I turned and looked right into her eyes, trying to probe her soul.
"You knew?" I asked in a voice that sounded incredulous, even to me.
"Course I knew" she said lovingly whilst patting my hand as you would a hurt child. "Course I knew. I knew every time, no matter how much care you took to try and replace things in the box exactly as you found them. I really loved you for that. And me like a silly Moo carried on the charade. I just feel as if I've been wallowing for ever, while life passed us by. And I think I want to talk before we let Laura go and get on with today. Will you help me do that Pete?"
Tears were streaming down my face as I nodded my head slightly, gave Ann a weak smile and started to get up. Suddenly I was overpowered by a desperate need to hold and be held by Ann: I swung her round and we became as one.
When we got back downstairs, I think we were both aware that things between us had changed massively. We were about to share all the hurt and pain that individually, we'd so effectively managed to grow inside ourselves like a malignant cancer until there were so many 'no go' areas in our relationship, that it felt as if we were each surrounded by a minefield. How many times had I dreaded this moment that I'd always been sure would eventually come! Yet here was me, in the time it took to go down stairs, considering the thought that maybe two new people were about to be born!
I think the word 'outpouring' about covers it. I think that instead of the expected 'grief,' the over-riding emotion was some sort of guilt!!
We never did find out for sure why Laura died other than that she was ten weeks premature. Apparently, Ann had always thought it was her fault to the extent that, unbeknownst to me, she had twice come close to committing suicide. Her Mum had actually caught her about to do it on the second occasion. My 'couldn't stand the woman' reverted to 'she's OK' in an instant on hearing that!
"I know I shut you out for months after we lost her and although the consultant said that we should try again as soon as we felt ready, I just couldn't stand you coming near me physically."
I must have looked shocked to hear voiced, something that had previously been only a deeply imprinted memory. She obviously felt me tense up and started (I guess) to try to soften what she'd just said. I started to withdraw my hand from hers, she got the wrong idea, and clasped it even tighter. I gently loosened her grip with my other hand and placed it over hers and said,
"No, don't stop; let's get all the gore out of the wound instead of constantly sticking more and more Elastoplast on it. It's got to heal sometime and I can't think of a better birthday present for our little girl. Go on.... please Ann. She interrogated my eyes before continuing.
"When we eventually decided to go and discuss IVF and saved enough money for our contribution, I remember the consultant uttering the devastating news - that it had a very low success rate. Then when you went for your sperm count test and we found that it was low, it seemed like the end of the world. You went on the medication to improve things from your end, and month after month we did everything we could around my ovulation time to increase our chances. Every month the pregnancy test kit showed the same result. Nothing. It was soul destroying. I hated myself. I blamed you. It was never making love; we were mechanically trying to make a baby. And.....and ..we ...failed ........ No; no, wait Pete, don't say anything... I began to hate my unproductive bloody production plant, I hated your useless Willie ..I've spent nine years in a pit, and I'm ... I'm .. fucking fed up with it!"
It was many minutes of painful sobbing, streaming eyes and running noses before she managed a loving tentative smile and said "Pete, you're a wonderful man. How you've put up with me all these years I'll never know .... Can we go back and start again, or has too much happened, or have I said too much?"
"Just about right Pumpkin" I said with a smile conveying ten years worth of relief and a future full of happiness. "I think a nice cup of tea and a piece of cake are called for, waddyah reckon?"
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