Mary Medlicott, Storyteller and Author - Storyworks

Storytelling Starters ~ It never rains but it pours!

That’s what we used to say: it never rains but it pours. And boy was it raining (literally) as I started thinking about this blog yesterday.

The window-pane disaster:

A week ago as described in last week’s blog, I heard that extraordinary crash of sound which, second time of going round the house, led to me seeing the smashed window pane in our bedroom. No sign of a dead bird inside or out. But it must have been a bird that did it. I don’t imagine that, despite its extraordinary speed of running up and down the drainpipe from ground to roof, our bonkers squirrel could have got there.

Fortunately Paul taped up the window most effectively and by Monday lunchtime that particular trouble was ended. The window had been re-glazed by a lovely young guy from Eastern Europe.

The garden disaster:

But yesterday, Paul and I were sitting in our conservatory having a bit of lunch when Paul suddenly said words to the effect of ‘Oh, my goodness!’ A mere glance outside and  it was plain to see. What looked like the entire curtain of the ivy growing up the side wall of our neighbours’ house had collapsed and was now leaning precipitously on our outside table along with our very big and beautiful yukka tree. Either the yukka and its pot had been blown over by the wind (and the wind yesterday was strong) and, catching the ivy, had brought that down with it. Or the ivy, falling, had caught the yukka.

What could we do? Both the curtain of ivy and the big yukka are much too heavy for me to lift and Paul can’t do it right now because only on Thursday he had a hernia op and has been told he mustn’t lift anything  at all for at least three days. So this morning we’ll have to ask a neighbour to come and help, at least to lift the yukka. The yukka, I’m sure, will be OK. But if the spread of ivy can’t be pinioned back to the wall, it will surely have to be cut. Who knows?

What next?

Now I’m wondering what little disaster is going to happen next? In Wales we always used to say thattroubles come in three. (My father used to differ: he said they come in bucketfuls.)

And in a way we’re already dealing with our third. I was recently diagnosed with what at first seemed to be ovarian cancer. Whatever it actually is – and subsequent tests have raised questions – it’s certainly some kind of cancer and it’s the fourth of my life. Alas! Next week, I’ll find out more about what is going on and what treatment is proposed. Whatever the answers, I hope that what ensues won’t interfere with me writing this blog because I so much enjoy doing it and I love all comments that come back. But I thought it best to speak about it now in case there are any wobbles.

So that’s my list of recent and current troubles. But I have to say that, even as Paul and I came back in from surveying the problem in our garden yesterday, I was thinking how totally more devastating things are for so many people in our world. Mud slides, rivers of mining waste, floods: for us in safety in a warm house, enough money to buy food and good doctors to hand, those situations don’t bear thinking about except to consider how to help.

PS: The windowsills of our kitchen-conservatory are filled with cactus plants. (Paul loves them.) So when we’re sitting looking out to the garden, they’re the first things we see. Hence my bottom photo this week – though the cactuses in it were in Corfu. The top photo had to be daffodils because, hooray, the first ones in our garden are out!

 

 

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