Saturday, August 18, 2007

Werry Werry Super Skurry


are words in a song by this lady that woke me up this morning.
It's a funny old song and, in Germany at New Year, this is the one they always play in Discosmittles.
Pip is off to a family bash today. She's wearing a new outfit. Chosen last weekend by ourselves in a posh shop in Marlborough. I pray she'll wear it with confidence and people will tell her the truth about what she looks like these days. Radiant is what I say. She spent most of last evening preening and primping apparently. I felt so energised about her making herself look so good.

Rewinding to Yesterday.
I had a day characterised by another man's pain, a woman's joy and giving of support to a friend.
My work friend MrTom is in trouble deep. A man who, by any standard, is charismatic, funny, handsome and intelligent has been brought low by life, the turmoil of relationships and a relaxation of his moral compass. Things are well tricky for him atm.

Oh ! How I know that sweet and bitter road to ruin.

I talked with Mr Tom, and just after, on my way to lunch, sent him a text saying "I hope you pull through this intact bud. Love from the other fuck-up you know x"
He came back with "Thanks C, I appreciate the support. Your Comrade T"

I'll be pleased to see him pull through this thing. Mr Tom has demons from long ago and, in my perception, his adherence to the S and N has been underwritten firmly by a deep love of his wife.
Cep't, now it ain't. I worry he will return to this and to talking like this. Pray God Babylon evades him and he pulls through.
At lunch, I met one of these people. She was lovely, about 58 and tall. Slim, a little heel and a black pinstripe trouser. Nice jacket, Chanel maybe and a pretty cornflower blue blouse. Straight grey hair in a page boy style. Very worthy and passionate about her favorite subject.

We talked for about 90 minutes and agreed I'd come and talk to her colleagues soon about specialist Courts. I think she was really pleased with the outcome.

Finally, I went to see Willow. Earlier in the day she had sent me this text. "Survived. First day awful, throwing up on Morphine. Have started eating again. Look like Hammer House of Horror. Hope you're OK. Call you soon"

Willow did look tired. Mind you, if you had had your Thyroid half removed, so would you. She was tearful and light and bright both. A touch of thankful hysteria at her survival of the knife.

I fixed a virus thing on her computer and we talked about Pip and my future life with her. All well in theory we said.

The transition, soon soon soon to be on me, " Werry Werry....Super Skurry"

JVIP


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