Saturday, 9 April 2016

H is for Happiness, Hugs and Handbags.

I just watched an Ellen interview with Michael J Fox. Now he has always been a favourite of mine since he was is 'Family Ties' and 'Back to the Future' and I have done and still do, watch anything with him in it just cos he's in it. His Parkinsons disease just hasn't stopped him, oh yeh, sure it's slowed him down and he's made adjustments but he's not miserable or bitter or angry. He told a story about a woman in Mozambique, who was in labour and was being swept away in a flood, who climbed a tree and gave birth in the tree and waited for help. He said that he reminded his kids of this woman whenever they complained about stuff. 'A lady gave birth in a tree.' has become something of a happiness mantra at his place. And seriously, if you compare your lot to giving birth in a tree, well most of us are probably quids in.

Oh Shit I broke a nail.....Tree birthing
Bugger, that's the last of my Lippy.....Tree birthing
Fuck it! I forgot the anchovies and limes.....Tree birthing.

Nah this is not one of those Try It On Blogs, designed to make you feel guilty about shit that you have or the life that you live, and it's not even about encouraging you to take a breath and remember to feel lucky, as you fight with some dick at the council, or as you are driving behind some slow coach geriatric who is poodling along in second gear. Cos god knows that would make me the biggest hypocrite in the world.

I complain about shit all the time.

I go off like a rocket about any little annoyance and the neighbours must be sick to death of hearing the 'FUCK IT' cries as I do battle with the washing or last night when I was trying to make a pizza and I wanted to get the pizza stone out of the drawer and the roasting tray flew out of the drawer and landed behind it and I had to take the drawer out to get it and it was really heavy and I had to empty the shit out of it and it was all over the kitchen and then I couldn't get the drawer back in, and did I mention I was trying to make a fucking pizza. Yep some swearing happened. Even Stevie called from upstairs to make sure I was OK.

I am pretty quick, alright, very quick to irritation, but I am pleased to say that I can generally do a Taylor and 'Shake it off'. I shoveled all the shit and the drawer out of the way and made that gormet fucking pizza and Stevie came and reinstated all the shit, and we ate the pizza and as it had been a while since I had made one he gave the high praise of, 'You've still got it.' Ah praise in deed.

Michael J Fox's Mozambiquan tree climbing birthing lady is just useful after the fact.

The hugs and handbags are optional extras, but they make me happy.

Are you calm or does your mood go up and down like a whore's drawers?

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