Dealing With Old-Fashioned Harassment

It might feel like an old-fashioned form of harassment, but dodgy phone calls are horrible. I’ve been on the receiving end. At best, they’re unsettling; at worst sinister.

So I was concerned to learn that a friend had become a victim.

"I get this call every day. It’s awful…"

I fear the worst, but it’s not quite what I think.

"… I can’t make out what they’re saying. I’m not sure if I recognise the voice…"

She feels ill-mannered saying she can’t understand and asks them to email but thankfully doesn't give out the address.

At last, the call comes when her husband is in. He grabs the phone, verbal artillery primed.

It’s not needed.

Turns out it was the pharmacy doggedly trying to tell her that her new hearing aids are ready for collection.

***

Originally published in The Daily Cuppa.

Want Things To Look Up? Then Look Up.

As a very busy week draws to a close, I came across an article about Looking Up. As it pointed out, the concept of looking up can be interpreted in many ways. However, my busy week inclines me to take it literally.

For me, as for many others, being busy means looking at a screen for much of the time. Looking up — at sky, clouds, trees — is something I do to get away from too much screentime.

For the rest of the story, CLICK HERE.

A Psychic Moment Reveals What I’ve Forgotten

Image by JoAnn Mangione from Pixabay

Sitting in the waiting room, I know I’ve forgotten something. My 6th sense is clamouring but I’m only having blood tests — and both arms are present and correct.

Idly listening to a father and small daughter, also waiting, checking out their magazine.

"Dad, can I open the free gift?"

"Not here."

I can see it emblazoned on the cover. Free Tarot Cards with every issue. He’s telling her you have to be careful with them, he’ll show her what to do when they get home.

I’m not sure I approve. She only looks about six.

They’re called in, and go past me. The magazine cover floats by at close range.

Ah… Free Carrot Seeds.

I know what I forgot — my glasses.

***

Originally published in The Daily Cuppa.

A Bit of a Calamity - And goodness me, can’t broken glass spread!

Today was scheduled for writing. Not any more.

The other day I broke the cafetière. I carelessly set it down in the wrong place and it took a dive.

I should have known better. I’ve studied Physics. I know about centres of gravity and balance. I also know that our kitchen floor doesn’t take prisoners. Glass everywhere.

Can’t broken glass spread! It would be impressive if it wasn't so annoying.

I sent for a new one at once and today it arrived, ready smashed. I swear the kitchen floor smirked when I opened the box.

What shall I do with my time today? Continue to find glass in unlikely corners of the kitchen, I suppose. I don’t know what else I can do. I can’t write without coffee.

***

Originally published in The Daily Cuppa.

A Week In Waves

Our nearest coastline is famously fast eroding, though we’re not in any danger of inundation as long as the climate scientists are heeded. Up until relatively recently, it was a given that they would be; the issue was whether or not they had workable solutions. Now they have workable solutions, but who knows?

For us, this has been a week of beach walks.

For the rest of the story, CLICK HERE.

The Awkward Handshake

Image by Hatice EROL from Pixabay

I wrote recently about the awkwardness of shaking hands with myself — when introduced to my alter ego. It got me thinking about awkward handshakes.

My most difficult was a doctor introducing me to a new colleague, a nervy young man who rushed politely to proffer his hand from behind me.

I was lying face down preparatory to a minor surgical procedure on my back.

If there’s a position other than lying face down, from which it’s harder to shake the hand of someone standing behind you, I don’t know what it would be.

I was reminded of the way dentists will fill your mouth with hardware and then ask a question that needs a detailed answer. I’m sure that young man was destined for dentistry.

***

Originally published in The Daily Cuppa.

Arachnophobia — A Gender Thing?

I was in the bath, towelling my hair prior to getting out, when a thing dropped from the towel into the water.

I leapt out — Aaaagh! — and flung away the towel. I know spiders don’t come in packs, but who thinks rationally when sharing a bath with an eight-legged monster from hell?

My shriek brought my knight-in-shining-armor to my rescue. He pushed past, carefully scooped up the spider, and carried it off.

Hey, what about my towel?

When I emerged, I found him drying the recovering arachnid with a hair-dryer. He said, “It’ll be OK,” like that was what I wanted to hear.

I thought dark thoughts but said nothing.

It’s a gender thing.

***

Originally published in The Daily Cuppa.