Countless irritations

This could be irritation number 78. (I must work on the previous 77.)

In response to a cough, cold or other “minor” complaint, someone says:

“Oh, you’re not feeling 100%?”

Why are they offended when I roll my eyes?

I have no idea what my percentage is but it’s certainly not 100. 40 maybe. On a good day, 41%?

Steve, listening to birdsong.

hi steve

the reason that you are not -40% is that you take joy from birdsong.

i have become very aware of the birds singing their little hearts out every morning.

people base their impression of us on their own lives.

nowt we can do about that but sit tight and listen to the birds.

as far rolling my eyes, it’s my own sister who makes me do that.

strangers are easier to cope with!

my impression of you is someone who strives to carve a life out of what some would say is a miserable existence.

long may you continue to do this.

heck, the birds have shut up!

carole x

Your right carol all we can do is make the best off what we got, enjoy it for what it is don’t let it beat us When you fall get up and go again .

I am fascinated by how dynamic and how inconsistent my response, (both internal and the one shared with others) is to this sort of question. For me the inane and banal irritations that are with me day in and day out can on occasion grind me down to such an extent that I have an “expletive explosion” at the tiny-ist of things. My amazing wife absolutely hates this and if she lived to be a thousand I could not explain / justify it to her.

Thanks Steve for letting me put this out there

As for birds and birdsong these bring me a lot of happiness. We bought a tall multi point bird feeder and it is so much better value than telly, although we have spent loads on meal worms which have led to 5 chunky starling chicks (they make an annoying squawk rather than pretty birdsong)


We’re not going to survive the war but we can win individual battles.

In the end, nobody is going to win the war anyway.

The blackbirds are twittering in my garden too. Which would be lovely if it weren’t for the fact they keep attacking my cat. It’s not his fault they’ve chosen to give birth in his garden. Stupid bloody birds.

I have more than 78 irritations. And I whinge and moan about them. My husband rolls his eyes and ignores my bitching and whining.

Then again, sometimes I’m quite happy. The goats cheese with caramelised onion chutney I had for lunch made me quite cheerful. And when lovely OH puts a glass with gin in it in my hand later on, I shall brighten up no end.


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