..
"half a pound of tuppenny rice
half a pound of treacle

that's the way the money goes
POP! goes the weasel
..
"up and down the City Road
in and out The Eagle
that's the way the money goes
POP! goes the weasel"

well, I don't have a weasel to POP! but I am getting to understand over-doing it, and exhaustion: which is a trade-off

and the trade-off is a learning curve that I have to get to grips with, sooner rather than later

the nursery rhyme is about taking your kettle (the "weasel") to the pawn shop (no, not porn, *sigh*) when you've run out of money for food and drink. . . The Eagle being a pub. . . what always surprised me was that someone's diet consisted of rice and treacle

not that much surprises me anymore

last night I went with MO to see the new Batman movie; The Teen was supposed to come, but he got a better offer at the last minute; M-T went to see an earlier showing of Mamma Mia with one of her friends - I was supposed to see this with her, but she couldn't wait and I'd promised myself to MO first (because he had asked first if I'd see his movie with him)

I found it a little scary, but riveting in a bizarre way - the way everyone was so scared of dying and death; having been only a few centimetres away from death only a few weeks ago, I had a different feeling about the scenarios, altho I suppose "choice" comes into it

Michael Caine was brilliantly cast, as was Morgan Freeman - I didn't recognise anyone else (which was such a relief!!) altho Commander Gordon made me think of someone and I couldn't put my finger on whom until the credits rolled - ah! yes, of course! Gary Oldman (who usually plays the bad guy)
.
the people of Gotham City were good at asking for help, weren't they. . .
.
I'm not
.
I understand exactly why
it's another trade-off, a different one, the curve I originally learnt, something I now have to unlearn
.
the things you write, dear reader, make me cry sometimes a kind of pathetic sad self pitying whimper of a cry; the things you say to me make me wish that I had a "mother"* (or "father"* even) I could call who'd say those things to me (altho, in my case, even if I did have my mother still she wouldn't be saying such understanding empathetic unconditionally supportive words - so that's a bit of a double-edged sword) (and I do have a father, but for reasons best not gone into here or now, but that could be described as a sword of Damocles, he doesn't ring me and I'm not ringing him)

*but I don't mean in a parental way - in a nurturing way

or - my preferred option - a best friend who'd pop over (spontaneously) for a cuppa (but I don't); or a partner still. . .
..
I feel a little like London Bridge, I've lost my foundation and I need to build some new ones

5 comments:

Greg said...

If I can go with the "London bridge" analogy....
Your foundations are not lost but hidden. Strong foundations that will sustain you against the vagaries of life. And on top of such strong foundations one may build what one will!

*hugs*

Mel said...

THREE times I've tried to leave a comment.......three....
I thought third time was suppose to be a charm?!

Fourth perhaps?

k.....

Would it help to know that mine was not the 'Ozzie and Harriet' kinda family--that all that I am today was/is not what I grew up in/was 'taught'?
I got to do a whole lot of unlearning and deciding for myself "does this speak of all that I AM?".

I know I'm graced to have WPIML--the voice of reason, a steadfast source of unconditional loving (not to mention he's bigger than me and could whallop me in a heartbeat....LOL). I rely on him to bring me truth--only cuz I know my vision is a bit askew (k....'bit' might be an understatement.....).
I've learned to surround myself with people who'll tell me the truth-- who care more about my life than they do about my 'poor little fragile feelings'.
They've helped me to build a foundation of honesty.
And atop of that foundation...everything is solid.

Tell the truth, all the time.
Wax on, wax off. LOL

Darn WPIML for giving me that tidbit cuz it plays in my brain over and over again.....but bless his soul cuz he gave me the secret to a contented and peacefilled life.

Brick by brick...minute by minute--you'll get there....you're already on your way.

*HUGE hugs*

Mel said...

Oh.....and we have a tin of treacle in the fridge.....
I'm kinda hopin' he opens it on a night that I'm working late.....LOL

Anonymous said...

perhaps the rhyme refers to the medical version of treacle (also called theriac or theriaca)?

I will gladly loan out my own Mother who is quite the good and compassionate listener and, although I rarely take it to heart, has quite good advice most times.

Short of that, just a phone call away. And I STILL say a webcam would be the next best thing to face to face, enjoying a cuppa or whatnot.

((((((((((You))))))))))

mig bardsley said...

Can I have a cuppa on Thursday?
(I said I wouldn't visit tonight but I couldn't resist)
Thursday is as spontaneous as I can manage in view of visitors and such like)
Been reading very quickly and thinking you are doing so well.
No dates so I don't know how you're doing right now but I'm hoping it's getting better.
Lots of love dear I , and hugs in huge quantities for all the days I've missed.
xxxx