Our choir conductor, the Redoubtable Muriel, was in good form today. Or so we thought.
But, no, in the community centre cafe after our singing session she suddenly remembered
that she had forgotten to encourage us to sing her latest Nature Watch -about the previously bare branches of the trees now being disguised by green shoots. Or words to that effect. She had been practising the verse in her car all the way from home, she told
us, only to forget about it in the delight of teaching us the tune to "The Saucy Sailor."
I have a sweet picture in my mind of Muriel, singing along about the architectural nature of trees as she is driving
along the sea front from Hove to Worthing in her ancient chariot (I am making this bit up, for all I know Muriel drives a brand new Mercedes. Though I don't think so..)
Roland says he can't stay too long for
lunch today as he has to go to Arundel to check out final details of a Questers visit he is arranging. He wants to make sure he has all the answers to any questions which might come his way at next week's Questers quarterly meeting. I know how he feels as
I am the organiser of a visit to the Novium Museum in Chichester next week and I doubt I will survive the whole of the quarterly meeting without someone asking me a question I can't answer.
As time is short,
Roland decides to forego the pleasure of a bacon bap and to opt instead for a Ploughman's. This, when it arrives, courtesy of the kitchen, is a Work of Art, set out in a pleasing arrangement on a piece of slate. At a rough guesstimate it will take him at least
five times as long to eat it as it will take us to devour our bacon baps.
Muriel, who has also forsaken bacon baps in favour of a jacket potato with prawns, is clearly still worrying over how some members
of the choir want to sing more modern songs. To comfort her, I tell her how I find myself singing "I know it is springtime" in the shower. I don't mention how my reedy voice seems to take on new, tuneful depths when my whole face is flooded with hot water
from our power shower. We agree that our favourite line in this timely song is the one about daisies "twinkling like stars at our feet" especially as, at thus particular tine of year, they really, really are. Twinkling, you know. The daisies, that is. Muriel
beams and I am suddenly struck by just how easy it is to say something to make another person smile.
It's like Acts of Random Kindness but in words. It will be my new resolution, I decide. How many people
can I make smile simply because of something I have said?
Sometimes it will just be putting into words what I am thinking. I will make sure to tell My Boy and the Darling Daughters what excellent parents they
are. Because it's true. I will tell the grandchildren who are knee-deep in exam revision how hard they are working. Because they are. I will tell Mr B, next time he serves me up his renowned coq au vin, that he could be on Masterchef. Okay, perhaps I shouldn't
go that far. Mr B will tell me that I am "taking the Michel Roux."
Still, I am sure you get my drift. It's taking positive thinking to a whole new level. Words of Random Kindness - or WORK for short.
Oh, dear, I should have realised there would be a flaw in my brand new idea. It's back to the drawing board for me...