Possibly influenced by a decided chill in the air this morning, I set to work sorting out my winter woolies from my summer shorts and shirts. It never occurred to me that, as a direct result, Mr B and I would spend the afternoon wallowing.
Not that there is anything wrong with a good wallow. I am reminded of that fabulous Flanders and Swann song about the hippopotamus and his mate wallowing in "mud, glorious mud." So much pleasure. Such clever rhymes. "Follow me, follow / down to the hollow
/ and there let us wallow / in glorious mud!" Okay so those are not among the cleverest but they may serve as a taster.
You are wondering, I can tell, what Mr B and I were doing playing at being hippopotami (excellent use of the plural, don't
you agree?) wading through the Sticky Stuff. The fact is that you are taking this hippopotamus stuff way, way too literally. This is the Daily Blog, remember. It doesn't pretend to be logical.
Well, anyway, there I was in our bedroom transferring
all my clothes from the drawers in the fitted wardrobe and depositing them in three piles on the carpet. The three piles were labelled (though only in my head) (i) winter; (ii) summer; and (iii) charity shop. Into the third pile went everything I didn't think
I would ever wear again. Unfortunately I kept changing my mind about the contents of this pile, mostly on account of the number of Tee-shirts With A Special Meaning.
Here are the tee-shirts from the 2014 and 2015 Summer Reading Challenges. They
never really suited me but I can't possibly discard them. Then there's the Open Business School Year of '95 tee-shirt, with my name (somewhere) on the back. The Banana Slug tee-shirt, reminding me of a fantastic Business Exchange trip to California in the
year 2000. My Dozey Cow tee-shirt - my daughters actually asked my friend Lorna to use the design - an appropriately dozey-looking black and white cow - on a birthday cake for a Big Birthday. "You're my dearest friend," she wailed when she presented me with
my Cow-Themed cake, "I wanted to make you such a beautiful cake!"
The tee-shirt with the most poignant memory was one produced for an event I organised years and years ago called Together We Can, bringing together people with disabilities and
the organisations which could help them. On the front of each tee-shirt, a series of three pictures signing the words Together We Can. There I was in Littlehampton town centre, wearing my tee-shirt and encouraging shoppers to visit our exhibition in the nearby
Tamarisk Centre, when a little lass in a wheelchair smiled up at me and spoke to me in sign language. She mistakenly thought, given the message in my tee-shirt, that I would understand her. I was humbled beyond measure.
I stow away all my summer
clothes in one of the drawers under the spare bed in our front room. Come the first Signs of Summer 2017 and I will think about donning tee-shirt and shorts - and I am willing to wager that I will have completely forgotten where I stowed them for the duration
of Winter Woollies.
Having cleared out the drawers containing clothes, I was on a roll. Until there, in the topmost drawer (the contents of which could best be described as "miscellaneous" ) I came across a DVD marked "Ruby Wedding DVD." Excitedly
I carried it downstairs to Mr B.
Ten years ago! An amazing Ruby Wedding Party. Everyone looks so young. The Darling Daughter in Law - whose birthday, coincidentally, is today - was seven months pregnant with our fifth grandchild. The four eldest
grandchildren, who ten years later will provide an emotionally-charged performance of Already Home at our Golden Wedding, star in "When Brian Met Jaqui" - a surprisingly accurate version of our early days considering that none of those responsible for it,
including the Production Team, were alive at the time.
We wallow in the memories, Mr B and I. So much joy, so much fun, so many special moments.
There's one particular moment. Mr B and I are dancing (badly - I have no sense of rhythm)
together when our three little granddaughters, after a whispered consultation, join hands and dance around us, holding us close in what some country singer, once upon a time, called The Circle of Love.
And so we wallow. Unashamedly.