Rotten Tomatoes

This has been bothering me since just before christmas. The musicmaker told me this story and it made me weep for humanity. I was so angry and raged for the child in the story, raged at the injustice and humiliation.

So the musicmaker as a child went to the house of classmates, invited for dinner. She sat at the dinner table and whilst the family ate curry, our little musicmaker was given a tomato sandwich. I was incredulous when I heard this story.

Musicmaker is fay and sensitive and radiates lovliness. Yes miss, you are lovely. I see her as her adult self and only know her such. I can imagine a tiny, lithe imp with a long fringe falling in her eyes going to the house of classmates. I imagine she is not particularly aware or bothered that she is going here, there or anywhere, she just goes. She is of her own world and intrusions from outside rarely come,she is someone who truly just 'is'. Our little musicmaker in her own gentle world was pulled into cruel reality when instead of what family had for dinner she was given something different.

Not just different though, inferior, substandard a statement. I hated that this had happened to her, how dare those people do this? It has played on my mind for weeks. How can you invite a child into your home and then set her apart, make her feel different and unwelcome? I raged for the little musicmaker through empathy; that notion of difference and people highlighting it so cruelly. It is known that children are cruel through inexperience, selfishness and not knowing the difference. They have to be taught empathy, graciousness and the value of sharing.

What burns most is that this happened with two adults present in a family home, they made this incident occur and that makes me so so sad. But then musicaker turns to me with radiance and beauty, internal and external, smiles shares stories and interests and herself and my faith in humanity is restored.

Without a list one is listless

B gave me the title to this entry. It wasn't as contrived as saying 'I'm writing a blog entry about blah, what should I call it?'. In fact the quote is from about a year ago when we were talking assignments and vowing to stop procrastinating about doing them. There were reams of to do's in my messy head and I started to list them verbally to make my head stop whirring and the panic in the pit of my stomach stop. There was a reference to lists being good and then the words of wisdom from my fellow procrastinator. I know it originally came from someone else but I don't want to know who, B gave it to me.

That assignment still hasn't been done and I'm still procrastinating with regard to it. This entry is on another mental 'to-do' that I neatly get to tick off along with the 15 rows of knitting and the film review. No assignment started though.

The snow went and I'm happier but its still too late for the pipes in my house. I'm not there but the thoughts of the mess I have to clean up and deal with when I go home makes my stomach lurch and my heart quicken and my breath catch. More to put on the mental to-do until I collapse prone on the floor weeping, I'm exhausted from the list that as well as being full of my stuff is full of your stuff too and it makes me so tired and angry at you that I feel i have to do it all alone.

Control- I lost all of mine, washed away in burst pipe floods and tears of hopelessness so to get it back I cut my hair. Hacked with the good scissors, love the noise it makes as it shore all those finger-trap curls away. They fell like suicide jumpers to the floor.......