Simple Signs Of Life

I haven’t been able to post for a few days due to a recurrence of my old chronic illness, the sleek and silent energy zapper, endometriosis. I had a little bit of a fainting spell due to my iron levels dropping all of a sudden, and my blood pressure along with them. Luckily, I was at Mel’s house and she got me to the doctor’s where I got the dreaded iron shot. I say dreaded because the side effects of the injection vary from nausea, abdominal pain and constipation. Sometimes if you’re lucky you suffer from all three at once.

I haven’t been able to attend to things as much as I’d like and have missed blogging and reading everyone’s blogs but I will catch up over the next couple of days.

I spent a couple of afternoons sitting with Mel in the park and saw some things which made me feel glad to be alive.

There was a lovely old dog, hairy and black, with specks of grey around the muzzle who followed around this little toddler who obviously was the child of the dog’s owner. Some toddlers are prone to picking up things and putting them in their mouth as we all know and this little guy was no exception. He tried rocks, blades of grass, empty bottles, sticks. Each time he attempted to put something in his mouth the dog gave a little gruff. The tiniest of warning barks as if to say Oh no, you don’t. And the toddler listened. He didn’t put a thing in his mouth. It was a game to him. Everyone time the dog gave his little gruff, the toddler chortled. It was a delight to see.

One thing I love is when I hear lines from soap operas in the real world. My favourite soap opera line which probably came from somewhere like The Young And The Restless (not that I watch it) is  I don’t know who you are anymore. I cannot tell you how much I love that line. It titillates me in a million ways. Well, I heard it in the park yesterday. A young girl on a mobile phone said it for all the world to hear. It was like a cluster of diamonds falling from the sky, it is such a rare event. I hope that whoever she was talking to doesn’t end up breaking her heart.

I saw another cute baby sighting on the same day. The chubbiest of little guys, maybe about 7 or 8 months old who kept pointing to things in the way babies do where their little fingers keep getting tangled up and you’re not sure which direction they’re aiming for. His Mum kept saying – Are you pointing to the tree? The sky? The boats? He shook his head, drool flying through the air, his little chubby face looking cross. It was obvious to him what he meant. Finally, when she guessed that the baby was pointing to a dog, he said GAH! and threw his little fat arms up in the air as if he was about to do the Mexican wave.

I saw two elderly ladies sitting on a bench, drinking coffee from a thermos. ‘I had a dream I was Helen of Troy last night,’ one of them said. ‘I had a dream I was Lana Turner,’ said the other. Now that gives me something to look forward to in my dotage. I want dreams like that. Dreams of women whose faces could launch a thousand ships!

I saw rainbow lorikeets chasing one another above the Bangalow Palms in a flurry of colour. They were so fast it was as if coloured lights were being flashed on and off from a projector. Their screeches filled the sky with a cheeky joy.

So much to see to cheer us up. Simple signs of life. Simple signs of hope. Sights like these make difficulties easy to forget.