How Time Goes Faster As You Get Older.blog

20 Carly goes to India with Jacqui

 India is a country very dear to Carly’s heart. She just totally loves it. She acknowledges that India is a complete and thorough assault on every single one your senses. And more. She’s been to the countries either side – Bangladesh and Pakistan – both for work, but they, for Carly at least, are full of wonderful and warm people but just don’t send a buzz down Carly’s spine in the same exuberant way. Yes, India draws Carly into its big and voluptuous heart. It is able to refresh and rejuvenate her in a way that few other places can. It is so very “out there”. Like Carly. Yes, they both have ginormous hearts and wear all their emotions singularly on their sleeves. No digging down deep needed. No trying to discover the meaning and truth of the actual reality. Sometimes, for Carly, who lives and works in a very contained and constrained environment, this can be problematic. Carly is often to be found crying. Sometimes this can be perceived to be inappropriate. Especially by her daughter Boo who thinks all Carly’s release of emotion is just for effect. But Carly is like India. Everything is there on show. And sometimes embarrassing. No hidden layers. Obvious 24/7. Carly doesn’t sleep that much. India never does. And aren’t parents supposed to be disconcerting to their teenage children some of the time, questions Carly?

Carly’s father wouldn’t let her go to India until she was 21. He wrote her a note and Carly still has it. She occasionally looks at it and for sure cherishes it. He was worried her immune system wouldn’t cope. But Carly is built like a brick. She is now in her mid-fifties and hasn’t had a fever for over two years. She has only had one day off work for gastroenteritis. And this is over a 30-year period employed as a doctor in a hospital working with countless numbers of infectious patients. Carly does sneeze a lot. But this is because she is allergic to tree pollen in the spring and wine in the evening. But that isn’t going to stop her from drinking. She loves the taste far too much. And sneezing is a physical sensation that she really loves to do. Especially now in the time of corona-gate. Everyone runs a mile when you sneeze. It is a great way to clear the area and get some peace. It reminds her of working in Selfridges department store when she was a student in the holidays, way back when. Whenever she wanted to clear the area, she would fart away. This would enable her to tidy up the merchandise. It worked a treat. Yet again, Carly has gone off on a complete tangent. Back to India.

Carly had been planning a sabbatical for years. It is what is needed for your mental health when you work for the NHS (despite the fact you aren’t paid for this time off). You are paid if you work for a university, but then they stipulate what you do. So having time off without pay meant Carly could do exactly what she wanted! She had had her form signed for many years and she planned for it to start once her youngest child had turned 18 and was on her way to Uni. What she hadn’t planned was being a divorcee. But some things in life don’t work out despite meticulous planning. Even for control freaks such as Carly.

She realised that there was a yearly Camel Fair in the hippy, dippy town of Pushkar in Rajasthan, in the first week of her planned sabbatical. Having a focus was a great starting point. And going alone for four months as a middle-aged woman was a tiny bit scary. Even for Carly who is pretty fearless. But even she is sometimes fearful of being alone. Although she is the consummate extrovert. She smiled to herself as there were no shortage of people in India. A population of around a billion surmised Carly. And many spoke English, Carly reassured herself.

She’d been pretty friendly with Jacqui for several years. Like Carly, she had her own woes to deal with. Not crosses to bear as both are Jewish. But shit going on. Yes. True. Things for both of them. Carly suggested going together to the Camel Fair with her friend who immediately leapt at the chance. Then Carly was a bit worried. What happened if they got on each other’s nerves for the 10 days they would be together? But it should be ok thought Carly, who speaks her mind. She remembered that Jacqui is a counsellor and so well versed in seeing what is really going on. Yes, it would be fine, Carly reassured herself.

So, they booked themselves into three places to stay. In Jaipur – the pink city, Amber – near the world-famous fort and Pushkar – home to an annual camel festival. Due to financial constraints, they decided they would share a room. The places they stayed were exquisite and Jacqui soon also fell in love with India. They did the usual touristy stuff. But also met with jewellers who probably fleeced them and went to over-the-top Indian wedding shops, although neither had planned to get married any time soon! At Amber Fort they went to a monumental sound and light show and also ate extraordinary meals in all manner of places, including street food. Everywhere they went local tourists asked them to be in their photos. ”One selfie please?” Soon Carly started asking for payments when all this nagging got a bit too much. The boot was on the other foot, and everyone laughed.

Carly’s best memory of this part of her trip was trudging up from the quaint and wonderful Mosaic Guest House to the main road for a morning coffee. Jacqui and Carly sat on the roadside on tree stumps. The vendor had to make coffee especially for them as everyone else drank the local tea – chai. As with all milk in India it was boiled and boiled and then served in small terracotta disposable cups. These cost a bit more than the paper ones, but Carly kept them to use in some of her projects later. Whilst the friends sat there drinking their sumptuous coffees, they watched the progress of brightly painted elephants returning home from their morning work at Amber Fort. It was pure magic. There were so many and sometimes the procession stopped as the riders would break for a chai or a packet of crisps. This meant that they could inspect these magnificent animals whilst they were stationary. She knew they were living in a sanctuary and being well cared for. They only worked a few hours which was necessary as they had to eat for 18 hours a day. This was to digest all that green matter, as they, unlike cows and sheep, only had one stomach. It did mean that they produced an enormous amount of dung, but India, being a country of innovation, had a myriad of ways to utilise this. All round everyone was contented.

In London, before she left, Carly told any unsuspecting believer that she was going to buy a camel at the Pushkar fair and travel around India that way for the next few months. Clearly this was ridiculous. Carly may be a lover of animals. Yes. But travelling around for hours on a camel? Clearly no. However, at the fair she did meet a couple who ran a camel milk business which supported local farms to take care of these wonderful creatures. This was where Carly would head after a prolonged stay in spiritual Pushkar on her way down to the textile heaven that is Gujarat. The Ranakpur Camel Lodge was a beautiful place being managed by two employees who were both divorced. This is very unusual in India and made Carly feel very much at home. This was the first place she went to visit without Jacqui who had by then returned home.

Carly was truly grateful to Jacqui for coming out to be with her at the beginning of her long trip to give her the courage and commitment to continue. Carly felt that Jacqui was the truest of friends. Like India is the truest of nations. That feels good, sighs Carly.

19 Carly breaks her arm

One Friday night Carly dashes off. She cycles full pelter as she is late. She is off to friends for dinner, and they have kids so she mustn’t be late. She puts a few of her ’Carly does’ stories in her bag as this family are keen groupies of her written offerings. She feels that reading them out partly pays for her supper! She also puts in some Tradescantia plants and pots as a present. She just adores these “Wandering Jew” plants. She has her signature trademark pot. A slightly oversized food tin that she has protected with two coats of PVA glue. She tries hard to eat the contents but how much sorbet can you make from tinned jackfruit? Or humous from chickpeas? Sometimes she doesn’t even know what the contents are as they are from specialist shops which import them. Then she secretly throws them away. This was the case with two different jellies from China. Or maybe Korea? She just wants to use the tins as “bespoke” plant containers.

Anyway, it was getting dark as winter was fast approaching. Carly has her trusty pedal-assist electric bike. With this device she has to do some of the cycling, but it makes getting up hills much less unappealing. She ponders. She is cycling from low Highbury to high Highgate. Bizarre. Both have “high” in their names, but one is erroneously named High… and is low! How very strange.

Off she went. It was all going swimmingly until she decided she would overtake a very slow cyclist on a regular bike. Carly is very impatient and was already running behind schedule. So, she made a bid to overtake him. She did think a bit about the road layout, but clearly did not consider it properly. When you mount a pavement lip perpendicularly it is usually ok. But not if you try this whilst going parallel. It was dark so she didn’t really see the lip. Splat went Carly. It was all so very embarrassing. Especially as the bus passing her almost squashed her. The cyclist was super nice. He got Carly back on her feet and sorted out her bike. He insisted on cycling behind her until he was sure she was alright. When you are in your mid-50s falling over is really embarrassing. Oh, and painful. Lucky Carly was wearing her helmet as her head went crash too. And of course, she cried. She claimed that was an autonomic response to hitting her face. But really that is Carly. Always crying. And then because this man who she stupidly tried to overtake was being so nice, she cried even more.

Off Carly went to her friends. Late, but victorious. She was developing a cool black and purple right eye. She gave them their plants, read her stories with aplomb and ate a wonderful meal. She does wonder about her relationship with this family. They have been really wonderful and supportive over a most difficult time in her life. But things seem to be unlucky. Besides this bike accident which really wasn’t their fault, there was another time when they came round, used her hot tub and splashed so much Carly had to refill it. But being Carly, she got carried away with other things and left it for a few days before she remembered and went to turn off the faucet. Oh dear. It had completely soaked everything, and it cost a pretty penny to mend. Again, not really this family’s fault but still, mused Carly, a bit problematic, nonetheless. At least she positively influenced them to get a dog. But she must take some responsibility here. It was her dog that nipped one of their daughters when she was young and so she became canine-phobic.

A week later, sporting a wonderful bruised right eye, Carly went on her first date with David. She had sent him a photo beforehand and explained. She mused that she matched the wonderful green and purple hues of her favourite Tradescantia plant. They got on really well having a coffee in Costa. She felt very relaxed and laughed and cried with him. She mused that for him, beauty could not be skin deep, or he would be revulsed by her. This was clearly true, as they are still together many months on.

So, her bruised face healed but her arm still hurt three weeks later. She decided to investigate further. She had an Xray and an ultrasound of her shoulder. She knows how to utilise the system as she works in a hospital. After the Xray the radiologist, who knew Carly well, asked what she thought of the images. Carly brazenly answered that it looked fine to her. She couldn’t see anything. But she did attest to the fact that this isn’t in her area of expertise. Mostly she sees young people with anxiety masking as medically unexplained symptoms. He stifled a laugh. No, no he exclaimed. You have a comminuted fracture of the right humeral tuberosity. She looked at him like he was talking ancient Greek. Yes, she had been to medical school, but broken bones weren’t really in her lexicon any more. The shoulder ultrasound confirmed the joint was not involved. Phew! considered Carly. That meant arthritis later on in her dominant arm was less likely.

But there were some upsides. Carly is very competitive, and she is the first of her siblings to break a limb. Which is odd. One of her brothers played many hours of football. He seemed to be unable to score a goal without landing on the ground. It was part of his routine. That and being totally covered in grass stains at all times. The other brother was more memorable for being covered in shoe polish most of the time. He set up a business at school to polish shoes for charity. 5p for children’s shoes and 10p for adult ones. More memorable for looking like a chimney sweep at the end of the day, rather than making a lot of money.

So how did knowing she had broken her arm change things for Carly? Well not by very much. She had been at work and cycling for three weeks before she knew. It would be silly to use a sling now. The only tricky movement was turning the car steering wheel. So, she stuck to cycling until her bike was stolen – another saga for another story!

Carly gets to meet a physio - Katie, who gives her lots of appropriate exercises and encouragement. She also tells Carly that she needn’t be so harsh on herself as it takes a while for bones in older people to heal. Then Katie says she has been redeployed to work in intensive care (ITU) because the second Covid wave has just hit North London. So, the next time they meet is when they are coincidentally undertaking the same proning shift in ITU, where they are in full PPE (Personal Protective Equipment) with masks and goggles. You really have no idea who is on your team. Sometimes you can’t even work out their gender or what their normal day jobs are. They have to log roll patients every 12 hours from back to front and back again. It is all very organised, but it takes eight people to do this as the patients are really enormous.

Anyway, one of Carly’s roles is ’ball release person’. This is only when placing a male patient on his front. It reminds Carly of a hamster digging deep. Maybe more like a dog burying a bone. She has to separate the legs to release the testicles, so they aren’t squashed underneath the patient who isn’t awake. Carly enjoys doing this task and is a bit sad when her next patient is female. Just when she had found herself a unique role.

Over time Carly can use her broken are more and more. Only extending her arm above her head during the “goddess” yoga pose proves painful and problematic. Apart from wining the ‘Only Broken Bone Sibling Competition’ and having a few weeks free from driving it hasn’t really made much of a difference. But it has made for a good story line!

18 Carly gives generic advice to the older woman about dating

Carly has a number of rules that she would suggest you follow if you want to start dating. Particularly if you are that foxy silver haired woman in the prime of her life. Not really rules. That makes it sound like Carly is being a bit too didactic. More like sensible suggestions that she strongly urges you follow. But if you don’t, she won’t actually get that upset. She might be a bit miffed. Because in the back of her head is the mantra “Carly is always right” but she is new to the dating game and really, she is actually no expert. However, she is a person of strong opinions.

Number one is don’t start during a pandemic. Particularly if you are perceived as a “Dirty Covid Worker” like she was. But she does realise that personal circumstances about when you become free to date aren’t always on the global-absence-of-a-pandemic-register. Or whatever normal times are called. Can she even remember? Gosh thinks Carly – I do bloody hope so!

Don’t be picky or you may lose out on someone who is just right for you. Carly muses about this. She has rules to be followed and then to be broken – like being picky. For her, she has decided they must be male, Jewish and either divorced or widowed. She says to herself that if you are in your mid-50s, it is unlikely anyone would be single at this age and not be weird. She realises this is being “singlist”. But she does need some boundaries so that the dating choices don’t become overwhelming.

And on the other hand, she tells herself not to be too fussy. Oh gosh. It is like she is standing there with an apple in each hand. Weighing things up. Like dating rules. So, when she moves her right hand up, her left hand goes down in sympathy. Then back up the other way round. She is standing there with her arms wildly going up and down with an apple in each hand. Really, she just cannot decide what she should stick to! She doesn’t really like apples that much as it happens. Granny Smiths are too tart and really what is this obsession with Pink Ladies? Apples are often good for making into sauce to go with latkes. Really, she prefers sour cream. But as always Carly is getting distracted and away from the advice she is offering to those planning on dating.

She has decided on male as she isn’t interested in dating women. And Jewish because she can narrow the field and get some background reference checks. Carly has listened to some dreadful podcasts about men who have stolen from unsuspecting dates. She doesn’t want to be that trusting woman who is misled. And she is Jewish by the way!

Be glad if you aren’t a tall woman as this might open you up to more possibilities as there are plenty of men who would prefer to date someone shorter than them. Carly is short. A bit overweight and she did previously have very large breasts, but these have been trimmed down under the knife. Seemed like a good investment to go with the new Carly. She has one friend who only uses apps where the heights are recorded. She is forever swiping left (goodbye) as the men on the site are shorter than her. Carly’s grandfather was a lot shorter than her grandmother and her mother is taller than her father when she is wearing heals. So, Carly doesn’t really see what all the bother is about. They all had long marriages. Oh gosh. Don’t get Carly started on long marriages and whether all couples who remain together were happy below the surface.

An absolute rule is no kids on a first date. Why would Carly want to meet someone where the previous “woman” was so clearly present through her genetic off-spring? Meeting other people’s children is irritating enough thinks Carly. She is a paediatrician and so works with children. Why on earth would she want to be sweetness and light to them in her personal life as well? Certainly, no more than the bare minimum. She does even begin to wonder why she is a paediatrician? Aren’t they supposed to like kids? She even has mixed feelings about her own offspring sometimes!

Carly advises that you ask the dates you meet to be honest and let you know what you need to remove or boost on your dating profile information. How truthful should you be about yourself on these apps, thinks Carly? She has used some photos that are a teensy bit out of date. Well 10 years. Is this terrible? Carly says to herself that this is probably not a probity issue that she needs to declare on her tedious yearly appraisal paperwork. Just a bit of poetic license. Actually, photographic license!

Be suspicious of people who don’t put up any photos at all of themselves – just their pets or worst still their football team. Or they are always wearing sunglasses – just as bad and very pretentious.

Make sure that you dress appropriately reasons Carly. She always makes an effort on a first date. She has a special first date dress she bought in a clothes swish. Very fancy and only a tenner! Carly does like to be mindful of her spend. Carly feels she needs to be with people who have at least some hobbies. Just watching TV doesn’t count. But she realises that she doesn’t want to be with someone just like her with similar pastimes. Carly is fervent about knitting. She doesn’t want to share her yarn obsession with a date who is likely to have mediocre feelings just to rub along with her. He must have his own interests and passions.

And then Carly thinks about sport. She keeps fit with her yoga and cycling but really isn’t much bothered about watching it. But for sure Carly doesn’t want to meet men who have swiped right because they realise, she lives in Highbury and so would have easy parking for an Arsenal game at the nearby Emirates Stadium.

Another absolute no no is men who, for whatever reason, do not see one or more of their kids. Carly feels that they have to fight for them and whatever has happened there needs to be forgiveness with unstinting love and support. Carly thinks that however bitter the split between this new man in her life and his previous partner, the children cannot be the fallout of this acrimony.

Before using dating apps Carly tried to encourage friends and family to introduce her to men the old-fashioned way. But this didn’t really work out. This antiquated way of doing things seems to have fallen by the wayside. Carly felt rather miffed. Why was everything stacked against her?

Then she worked it out. Everyone uses dating apps. The young and the old. Even those with truckloads of people they could meet in person. Carly’s younger children were at university where we can assume the supply of meeting people in person is plentiful. But they still use dating apps.

Carly did have one friend who did say she would arrange an introduction in person. Despite regular prodding from Carly who is an expert and professional nagger, her friend said she hadn’t seen this divorced man for ages and felt she should ask him over for supper before she could introduce him to Carly. But she was clearly hesitant, and Carly took things into her own hands. Carly is both impatient and tenacious. She would look him up and ask him out. She thought carefully what she said in her email and then boom off it went flying into the ether. The speedy reply was a firm thanks but no! On another occasion Carly petitioned the chair of her hospital. She met on the pretense of talking about the work environment but then Carly came clean. Surely this woman who had been the rabbi of a large synagogue in London must know someone looking? The chair shook her head and had no one in mind. She did actually try to find someone who might measure up to Carly’s exacting standards and replied several months later the fields were indeed fallow. Crestfallen, Carly returned to the trusty apps.

Of course, with apps when you firstly meet someone you need to reply with witty messages. It was plainly difficult for Carly to always get this right. So, if she rather liked someone, Carly would move to speaking on the phone or use video calls as soon as possible. If these went well, meeting in person was really the quickest way to get the measure of a potential boyfriend.

Carly feels this is helpful advice on dating. She should know as she has dated quite a few people despite it being a pandemic. She is keen that you know, however, that she is neither loose nor a floozy.

Cosmetic Imprisonment – the plight of women?

Imprisoning objects is something I did during my sabbatical in India 4 years ago. I enjoy it and it speaks to me. Whilst away for a short break in Puebla, Mexico, I found a load of purple cosmetics and imprisoned them. Here they are. I started this project in February 2024. But then I found more purple adornments and things that could be associated with beautification in women. And men. I have added some more imprisoned cosmetics in September 2024 at the end.

And some excellent thoughts on this work from my dear friend YH.

I recently showed my work to Yasmeen. She has given me some very useful and exciting insights and I have added them in italics where appropriate. Thanks YH!

This one is a good representation of how I feel when I’m wearing makeup. Like I can’t move my face freely, can’t touch it, and I’m so concerned about it falling off or being in the right place, that I don’t feel comfortable to even enjoy the beauty it gives me. I’ll head home early, take it off and feel so relieved. Kind of like the feeling of removing a bra at the end of a tough day.

This one makes me think, what even is beauty? Society’s definition of beauty changes every few years. When I was younger, it was an ugly thing to be seen as “witch-like”. That included big noses, dark features, black clothes, potions, and… long spiky nails. Actually, many of these are stereotypes of Jewish women of course, or women who were too smart, or had been excluded from society after being raped or widowed and had learn their own ways to heal with herbal remedies. Men feared them. Long spiky nails is now a power statement. It means I am in control, I have intelligence that men fear, and don’t underestimate me or I might put a curse on you. Now times have changed significantly… we can vote, we have birth control, we can protect ourselves from an abusive husband… but we don’t have equality yet. We’re still in a world ran by men. They daren’t give us equal rights, because they are afraid of our power.

Nail varnish is seen as an unimportant topic. However, I find it empowering. When I have my nails painted I feel that my life is together and sorted. No matter what shit I am going through. I can look at my nails and think, everything will be ok. I have only been doing my nails for past few months, but it really gives me confidence that I’m put together. Nail varnish seems like such a shallow and trivial topic to discuss. Why is that? Who decided that to be the case? Is it men? Probably not, I think in fact many men compliment my nails more than women. Perhaps because they can see a pretty colour, think it looks nice and so they compliment it. What I think it comes down to is that women think they have to adapt and mould themselves into a “man’s world”, and therefore talking about shade of nails isn’t fitting to that image they want to paint of themselves. In actual fact, I think many men would like the opportunity to decorate their body with colours and be more creative and express their personality more, but that neither isn’t seen as the “done thing” in our society.

When moving around the eyeshadow cosmetic imprisonment was trashed! So I redid it. This is how I have prepared them for framing – sewing them using purple thread on my machine.

This one I have spoken about before, but I’d like to dive a bit deeper. Tying your hair back has so many symbols, from getting your hair out of your face so you can focus, to tying it back so it doesn’t look unruly, but also tying it back so that you don’t catch nits. As kids we were told that tying our hair back protects it from getting knotty, now as an adult I understand that tying my hair back damages it, breaks the hair, teaches it to grow in unhealthy directions, causing hair loss later on, especially if you tie it too tight. In extreme scenarios like ballet and the military, where a perfect appearance is required, you have a tight tight bun and smooth the edges with thick gel, also bad for your hair health. Why do we even want to contain our hair? Its something so beautiful. A way to express ourselves. A symbol of our femininity. Hair bands seems something so innocent, but they can be so harmful.

These one-time-use products are not just one-time because they are easy to throw away, but it actually cannot be used more than once. Their functionality is incredibly limited. You put the purple colour, and then you can’t put another colour, the colours would mix. Once you’ve cleaned your ear, you’re not going to use it again the next day, its dirty and that would be unhygienic. We blame these one-time products, but there’s no other way to use them. We can blame the manufacturers, but as long as people keep buying them, we’re voting to keep them going. We’re constrained by our own habits.

It also means that each ear cleaner only have has a single purpose. It makes their life very simple. They have 1 colour to paint. 1 ear to clean. No expectations of anything more. No depth or complexity. Or maybe the depths of our problems are so close that we can’t see the depth and complexity of seemingly trivial items. Maybe our brains couldn’t cope with that. Maybe we are tied down with the complexity of our lives, we can’t appreciate the trivial.

Every time a woman takes off her makeup, its a relief, it is wrapping up of another day. Whether she was laughing, crying, listening, shouting, singing… at the end of the day the makeup comes off and tomorrow a new day will begin. The used sponges are like a photo album that contains memories, but instead it holds the emotions and feelings the woman went through that day. It would be interested to test the sponges for pheromones, you’d get all the emotions of the rainbow, just like all the range of colours you see on the sponges.

I think this item triggers a lot of emotion for many women. We’re told that we must remove all our hair except on our head and eyebrows. Pain is beauty. But its not just pain. It’s time, effort, precision, practice. So many things go into being beautiful for a man. The man is always frustrated that we take so long to get ready. But they don’t realise their privilege that all they need to do is shower and put clothes on. Yet, they insist in reinforcing this tradition. If you ask them how they prefer a woman, natural or plucked and pruned, they are conditioned to prefer the later. So the cycle will continue.

Syringes and needles for botox injections

I’d quite like to get botox. Why? Because I frown a lot, and then go in the sun, and then I get white lines in between my eyebrows and I don’t like it. So then when I’m in the sun I stress to make sure I’m not frowning instead of enjoying my day. However, I understand that botox can be a lifetime commitment. The more you do it, your muscles weaken and can’t hold themselves up, and then your “need” for it is even stronger. You’re tied down by the cycle.

I have really enjoyed doing this project. I am not sure cosmetics are the plight of women as many men wear makeup. Are they forced? I am not sure.

A total so far (13th September 2024) of 29. A good wholesome prime number and the door number of my penultimate address in London before moving to live in Israel.

Carlos

My niece and her wife had a baby whilst I was in Puebla, Mexico. I found a beautifully embroidered dog and named him Carlos. He went on a whole raft of adventures before he met their baby. Here he is from the photobook I made of his journeying.

Carlos carries on his journey with Rafi now and so far he has been around London and made it to Brighton too!

17 Carly explains to her family she is getting divorced

Carly has been married a long time but now she is getting divorced as she and Ades are no longer compatible. Carly is in a hurry to tell everyone. This is her nature. To rush around and tell everyone everything. She wears her heart on her sleeve and is very busy crying and being miserable. Carly and Ades decide they are going to tell their children first. And with all of them together after a weekend lunch. But their children decide to have a row. About politics. Grrrrrrrrrrr, thinks Carly. She really cannot abide politics and here it is screwing things up for again for her. She has had to endure endless soliloquies by Ades at every meal about politics. He feels it is a broad topic that appeals to everyone. Carly doesn’t agree. It isn’t that she wants to talk about her hobbies or even hobby horses. But she zones out when Ades drones on about politics. Her sons humour him and are willing to discuss these issues. Her daughter is less interested. Anyway, back to the divorce. In terms of telling the children, Ades would rather wait. As always. But Carly has decided that today is the day and so it will be. Before one of their children storms off to their bedroom Carly says that they have something very important to say to them. Ades then dives in. Actually, he isn’t really a diving sort of person. Carly is. Ades just clears his throat and begins.

Firstly, he tells them they are getting divorced. Carly supposes that as he is a lawyer, the hard facts are best. None of dressing it up and saying they are having a trial of separation. When they aren’t. Facts trump feelings. Hmmmmmmmmmmm thinks Carly. Maybe she should have done the telling? But she felt he might say it better as he is a lawyer. Second up, he tells them neither of them have had extra-marital affairs. This means that the children aren’t more annoyed with one parent than the other. Thirdly he tells them it is not their fault and they both love them all. Fourthly he tells them he isn’t getting any therapy or counselling, so best not to go there. By this stage Carly is nearly bursting. She tells them she will be getting therapy, lots of it and she wants to find someone else who will love her. She wants it to be clear from the outset that she does want to find another partner. The youngest two cry and the oldest runs around comforting them. Then they all go to their rooms and hide in their beds as is usual for teenagers. Everyone is pretty wiped out.

Later on, that afternoon, Carly suggests that she goes on a cycle with her daughter Boo who is the youngest. Off they go, pedalling like fury. Boo has obviously thought about the situation and wants to discuss three things with Carly. In fact, they are more like demands as this seems like a good time for Boo to get the outcomes she desires. This is a clever strategy considering Carly’s fragile state. Carly is a bit bemused as she erroneously thought Boo might be delicate. Not at all. Yet again, she got that wrong!

Firstly, Boo tells her Carly cannot become a lesbian. Carly thinks seriously about this suggest but cannot commit to that. Well not yet. She hasn’t even given it much thought as, till now, she has never fancied any women, but she doesn’t want to decide at this very early stage of separation. It maybe rather nice to be a lesbian, muses Carly. Or maybe bisexual? She really doesn’t know. But for certain she doesn’t want to commit to something now that she might want to revoke later. For sure Boo will not forget her mother’s assurances of her sexuality and then hold it against her and cite it as an example of changing her mind. Oh yes. Yet another instance of poor parenting for her children to remember and note down with the many other examples.

Secondly, she tells Carly she cannot have any hoes in the bed. Carly cannot understand why she would have gardening tools in the bed in the first place? Then she asks Boo for clarification who patiently explains that hoes are people you pay for sex. Why would she pay for sex? She can agree to that demand. Because to be honest, sex is far from her mind at the moment. And actually, is paying for sex so terrible? Hmmmmmmmmmmm ponders Carly. Really, she is very naïve about these matters. She will have to ask around. But maybe in a little while.

Thirdly, she asks Carly if she could please have a seven-year-old stepsister as she did always want a younger sibling (female if possible). Carly is glad to be asked this question but really it is an impossibility. Carly tells Boo to ask her father for that one. Really Carly feels she is done with parenting, and she spends all her time with other people’s children at work. Carly is a paediatrician and doesn’t particularly want other people’s children in her personal life. Certainly not in response to a request for a younger sister by her daughter. That degree of cow tailing to her daughter’s demands feels overwhelming and, in this time of stress, Carly needs to look after herself first.

Carly’s sons unsurprisingly respond in very different ways too. But one thing is for sure. Divorce and lockdown have meant the kids are now closer. Of course, they still fight. A lot. Gosh how tedious, Carly notes.

Carly then talks to her own siblings. Her sister is very supportive and promises to go with her when Carly tells their parents. One brother is very sympathetic and understanding. All his wife’s family are divorced or should be! He knows the ropes and will guide Carly should she need this. Her other brother is horrified. He just doesn’t do divorce. He comes round very soon after the announcement to try and mediate between Carly and Ades. He has a misguided notion that divorce is only bad. Really, he remonstrates with Carly. Firstly, you just need to be nicer to Ades – he did always look up and admire him. And secondly, no one over 50 ever finds another partner. “I’ll show him” says Carly thinking about which dating apps she is going to download first. Carly is very competitive, and she will show her little brother what nonsense he is talking. But maybe she needs to let the dust settle a little first.

Then Carly goes off with her sister to talk to their parents. They are quite shocked to begin with. Then their mother starts talking about religion. And how it gets tricky if a married couple both have different expectations and opinions. Carly can see why her mother is following this particular line but this isn’t the reason. Carly sighs but decides now is not the time to explain this.

Over the next few months Carly’s parents are very comforting and supportive to her. But Carly’s mother remains very concerned about Carly’s impending divorce settlement. She keeps asking who is going to keep the silver. The candlesticks, the cutlery and the napkin rings. Carly’s father says he knows that Carly has been miserable for years. He tells her to get on with the business of getting divorced. Carly listens to them both. Maybe the silver will pay for the divorce lawyers. Some hope. There wasn’t that much silver in the first place.

Carly tries to explain about the divorce to her pets. That really was just plain puerile. Cats behave as they always do. Wandering off when really Carly would like to stroke them. Cleaning themselves for hours. And meowing in the middle of the night to come in or out for no reason other than they can. The dogs aren’t much better. They are just glad to get to go out for walks. Who walks them or feeds them is neither here nor there? For the pets, life isn’t much different.

Carly has lots of cousins. On both sides. Some are happily married, some not and others divorced. Everyone gives their advice. Some of it is useful and some of it is not. Carly has to steer a path so that she is braced by their love and guidance but not overwhelmed by their insistence of her following their advice. One cousin based in New York is really fabulous. He texts her every week on a Sunday for an entire year. This is great. It is lovely to be held in this way. Other cousins take her out to dinner and still other’s wait a while and send messages many months on. This is actually very helpful as Carly can see just how far she has come over time. Still crying but not falling apart anymore. This is good. And time is a healer as everyone knows. Shame it takes so very long. Carly still isn’t very patient!

17 Carly explains to her family she is getting divorced

16 Carly gives due consideration to her organs

The song Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes often goes through Carly’s head. It was something she regularly sang to her children when they were toddlers. The other line Eyes and Ears and Mouth and Nose also made her think. Obviously, Carly has other parts of her body that she can talk about. But where to start? Carly does like to be ordered and organised. So here she goes using the alphabet. She then wonders if she has 26 body parts she can talk about? She is sure there is some bone beginning with an x.

This whole quest started off with a knitting adventure. Carly is an expert knitter and likes purple. She had three balls of yarn but no pattern. She knitted a purple yoke that had 4 uses. A shoulder warmer, snood, skirt and breast cover up. A colleague looked at it in skirt mode and laughed. He told Carly it was far too short as she had clearly run out of yarn. Harrumph thought Carly – what would an orthopaedic surgeon know about skirts? Bloody not very much. So, for sure she has a “y”.

So, let’s start thinks Carly. At the beginning which as she knew from Maria in “The Sound of Music” is a very good place to start.

Armpits. Carly has an issue here. Actually, her family do and think she must shave them. But Carly thought why would she be made with such a defect? So, she did a randomised controlled trial. Her left one was lush and hairy and the right shaven leaving the skin silky smooth. She took her clothes off at the end of the day. Voila – no difference in smell. She then wandered around in vest tops and people thought Carly should be incarcerated for only shaving one. Little did they know about her trial.

Breasts. Carly had very big bozonkas. Her brothers called them dangling coconuts. Her sister watermelons. She rather liked them. She could even get her nipples to kiss together side to side. But eventually Carly had had enough. On 21.2.19 (a good day because the maths works [21-2=19]) she had 750 g removed from each.

Chromosomes. Like all humans she shares 50% of her DNA with bananas. Not good as she isn’t keen on yellow. Carly did recently have a genetic test performed by 23andme. This showed she had exemplary genetics. Nothing to worry about. Phew.

Much as she likes dimples, she has none. And pleasingly no dandruff.

Carly has green eyes which look more intense when she cries. And this is a lot. Once when she was going to be a surgeon way back when she was asked what her worst fault was. She was told the standard response is that I never let go of unfinished jobs and carry on till the bitter end. Instead, she replied she cried a lot. The panel were aghast. They asked her how she stopped crying. Easy peasy she said. You look at yourself in a mirror and it became a scientific experiment and hey presto you stop. Unsurprisingly, she didn’t get the job. Surgeons bawling their eyes out? doesn’t go with the territory.

Carly is happy with her face. Well for the most part. Now she has too many wrinkles and uses a special costly serum to keep them in abeyance. But she does like how much expression humans can make with their face. And reminds her teenage children regularly that you use half the muscles to smile compared to frowning. It really doesn’t seem to get through. Carly sighs.

Carly attacks her gums everyday with her electric toothbrush. Then she goes to the dentist who is forever pointing out that she is missing some parts and over doing in others. And this always changes. Poor teeth and gums. Really something you can never excel at. And spending 10 minutes brushing twice a day. Forget it. Carly is far too busy to do this boring business.

Head or heart? Carly isn’t sure which is more important. But then she has to side with head. All emotions do actually come from within your brain and not really from your heart. This is a misnomer. A heart is just a muscle. Much needed and completely reliable. But it doesn’t make her be Carly. This is her head. Phew Carly is pleased she has gone for head over heart.

Intestines. Very important for Carly who loves eating. Top must be chocolate buttons. Really any chocolate. She is out of control when chocolate is available. Luckily, she has intestines well able to cope. Sometimes she spoons in Nutella at night when no one is watching. Do other people do that, questions Carly?

Carly does have some problems with her joints. Particularly her back. Things are better since she does daily yoga but her back still hurts a lot of the time. This is probably because of her sedentary life. She wonders if she would be a good hunter-gatherer. Probably not. She is rubbish with a bow and arrow. Not much better with a gun. Better stick to knitting and being intellectual! Oh, who is she kidding. So pretentious.

Kidneys. Now these are a rather boring pair of organs. She has done a number of renal jobs. But they are predictable, and they aren’t crucial. That is the point of dialysis which takes up so much of your time. You could probably get thought a lot of podcasts. Maybe best to keep them nice and healthy.

Lips are for talking and kissing. This is something that Carly came to quite late in the day. Her friends said it was different with expert kissers. Not teenagers who really had no clue. She also likes to adorn them with lipstick. She applies it like her grandmother. Only to the bottom lip and then pull them both in and smooch around to spread evenly. It works a treat and the lippy lasts twice as long.

Carly doesn’t have a moustache, thankfully.

And she did pierce her nose when she was 53. It was on a whim. Then her daughter told her it was time to change the jewelled piercing, but this wasn’t good advice. She couldn’t manage to replace it. So, she put in an earring for a bit and then found a very thin nose ring. Carly did a survey. Pretty much everyone had their left nostril pierced. She wondered why?

Carly’s ovaries have now packed up. But they did a good job in their heyday. Shame she thought but everything has a place and time. Ho hum.

Sometimes Carly feels her pulse. She really has no idea why. She knows that if she is sentient enough to feel this then she must be alive. Maybe she just wants to remind herself what she learnt in medical school? Actually, she uses it as a way of calming herself down. Yes, that is it.

Carly cycles all over the show and so has a mean pair of quadriceps. This is rather pleasing, she muses. After all, her legs get her from A to B. But they aren’t model’s legs to be honest.

Carly likes to use the correct terms for her fingers. Index, middle, little and ring. On the underground she has always been obsessed to see if people are married and wear a wedding band. This has been for a long as she can remember. Really this is weird but we all probably have silly fascinations we cannot understand or justify.

Recently Carly was trying to overtake a right slow coach on his bike. She misjudged the road and splat went Carly. But she was late and cycled off. Once her black eye had healed, she couldn’t understand why her shoulder still hurt. An Xray answered that question. A comminuted facture of the right humeral tuberosity. Sounded fancy. Bloody hurt!

Carly wouldn’t be without her toes to paint in luscious colours. Shame they are a bit wonky and overlapping now. But she can still easily reach to cut her nails. Phew not too incapacitated yet.

Her uterus has served her well. Hosting lots of embryos and bringing three fetuses to term. Job well done. Thanks, says Carly, gratefully.

Being a doctor means Carly is often looking at people’s veins. This is a throwback to when she often used to take blood and insert cannulas. Carly has nice veins, she thinks, stroking them lovingly.

Carly isn’t so enamoured of her waist. Maybe all women of her age have the same problem. Best not to be too harsh on oneself she contemplates.

The xiphoid process is well known to Carly. When she was in her 20s and working as an emergency doctor, she was in charge of getting sossled patients who were snoring off their hangovers out of the department when the morning team came on. Applying pressure on this area in the chest wall was super painful and she was able to wake them all up. Off they trotted. Carly felt pleased she could do her job effectively.

The yoke Carly knitted using the Japanese pattern Makiko was for keeping various organs warm and started off this whole escapade.

Carly thinks about her fertility journey. First there were eggs and sperm, then zygotes, afterwards embryos and finally fetuses. And now they are grumpy teenagers. But not all the time. And they need to fly the nest and make their own zygotes.

Carly realises that these aren’t all organs, but they are to do with her body. She must look after it and love it till the day she dies and goes into a woollen, hand knitted coffin decorated with purple beads, lace and ribbons. Cool.

15 Carly and her friend Zoë

 Zoë has been petitioning Carly to write a story about their friendship for quite a while. This isn’t quite right. Zoë just wanted to feature in some small way in one of Carly’s world (really?!) famous stories. However, Carly had much grander ideas and wanted to write a whole story about Zoë. But this is a problem for Carly. Friendships are predicated on mutuality and respect. And Carly does quite like to take the micky out of people in her stories. So far, she has mostly been contemptable about herself. It has been healing for Carly to write down her thoughts and feelings at this difficult time in her life. And she lightens the heaviness with humour and self-derision. At least she thinks she does? But, if you start writing about friends, then that becomes a different matter. Carly has written about members of her family. However much she upsets them, unfortunately for them, they will always be her family. She has to be mindful, obviously, about their feelings. But she doesn’t need to consider it in quite the same detail as she does with friends. So here we go Zoë, thinks Carly. She hopes Zoë will take these next few words with an enormous pinch of salt.

Carly met Zoë a long time ago. Zoë lived at the bottom on Carly’s very long garden. Not like a gimp in an outhouse but in her own flat in a parallel road. A few years before Carly’s oldest son, Haz, had petitioned his parents that he wanted to learn an instrument. Carly said “No! You will be no good. I was no good”. And his father echoed the same sentiments. So, they both resisted him learning an instrument. But Haz went on and on and eventually Carly capitulated and bought him a descant recorder. She found him a teacher, Maria, who was ancient and gave Haz interminably long lessons. Haz was, in fact, quite gifted and learnt the tenor and treble recorders as well. He did some practical music examinations, but his school were insistent he learnt an orchestral instrument. He decided for silly reasons on a bassoon. He met a girl who played this at one of his exams. But the bassoon is for tall children and Haz wasn’t. So, he started on a mini bassoon. Then he moved to a short-reach bassoon. And finally, to a full-sized adult bassoon. He was really good in the end. He played in the first orchestra and passed his grade 8 exam. Blah blah blah. The usual middle-class stuff.

So how does this have anything to do with Zoë? Well, she was his first bassoon teacher. Both Haz and Zoë were pretty introverted. And the lessons seemed to go ok. Carly would listen quietly and secretly outside the door. There didn’t seem to be any of that extrovert stalling for time that she used when she learnt the piano. Or she still uses at other times when she feels ambivalent about things. The stalling for time. Not the earwigging. You are bound to get caught out as Carly knows only too well.

At that stage Carly and Zoë got on ok as they both liked cats and music. But it was very much a relationship of employer and employee. Things didn’t move on in terms of an equal friendship until much later. By this stage, Zoë started teaching Haz’s younger sister Boo the recorder. Boo petitioned Zoë that time was marching on; Zoë wasn’t getting any younger and Zoë needed to get on with the business of having a baby. Hey Presto! Arthur was born nine months later! This of course left Carly’s children without a music teacher. Hmmmmmmmmmmm thought Carly. People don’t always do what she wanted them to do despite her being the employer. Her father’s motto kept recycling itself in Carly’s head. “He who pays the piper calls the tune”. This felt musical and appropriate but, in this instance, it was just plain wrong.

After Arthur was born, Zoë and her family moved slightly further away but by this time Zoë and Carly had become firm friends. Their usual pattern of meeting was to go to art galleries but more often they spent time in Carly’s hot tub. Zoë loves to walk. Carly doesn’t. So, it was lucky that Carly had the hot tub and Zoë could walk to her and back. They’d sit in the nude, drinking wine whilst chatting and chatting and chatting. In the winter it is especially fun to run down the freezing garden, though the snow and jump into the hot water. They’d watch the lights in the hot tub cycle through the rainbow spectrum and enjoy each other’s company as their relationship was now on a much more even footing.

But the relationship really came into its own when Zoë was able to be the most supportive of friends when Carly’s marriage ended. Zoë was able to regularly meet Carly as she lives near Crick’s Corner. This is Carly’s favourite coffee shop very near her work. Zoë can pick up the pieces when Carly is falling apart. Carly feels she should be able to put herself back together. She is a medical doctor. In the business of mending people. Also, Carly is very good at crafts so she can metaphorically (or maybe metaphysically??) knit herself back to strength. But she still needs help from others. Even Zoë’s husband Charlie is there to help pick up the pieces. Gosh, Carly really does fall apart. He radios Zoë and she rushes around to help sort out her friend. Carly is so grateful to this lovely couple who are so supportive and able to help her in the way she needs.

But it isn’t just a one-way stream. Carly is able to provide her support to Zoë who suffers from eco-anxiety and has become quite overwhelmed by this. Zoë and Charlie often go to Extinction Rebellion events and, although Carly is scared of very little at all in the world, she is terrified of these events. She is worried she has disappointed Zoë. But she has put in solar panels and she has changed her energy provider to one that is more environmentally friendly. Also, she is forever knitting things for Zoë. Particularly wrist warmers as bassoon players need to keep their hands warm but cannot wear gloves. Some items get rejected for being too itchy. Carly isn’t despondent. A little miffed yes, but she does understand. And the next recipient of these handmade treats won’t know the original provenance of these items. Carly now makes Zoë choose the yarn, so it passes the softness test before she embarks on any new projects. And as a token of her deep affection, Carly has made the mystery 2020 blanket for Zoë. This is a project that takes all year. Funnily enough it is called “our precious earth” – so very fitting.

Carly went on a sabbatical recently. And Zoë was the only regular friend to video FaceTime Carly whilst she was there. Zoë makes a cup of tea and sits down to give Carly her full and undivided attention. She is not flitting around trying to do things whilst speaking which all of Carly’s children do when she catches up with them. Carly feels a bit sick as they walk around, spinning her all over the show, as their phones soar up and away, making Carly feel like she might crash or vomit at any moment. Additionally, Carly feels they are not giving her the appropriate respect and attention. Harrumph sighs Carly. These children only have one mother but hey the young of today call the shots, feels Carly. From now on, especially as Carly knows that no-one can truly multitask, she will always sit down and pay full attention on a video call. This has become of the utmost importance during 2020 – the year of horrid corona.

During these very tedious lockdowns, Carly sees a lot of Zoë, Charlie and Arthur as they are all in the same bubble. She goes there so often for meals, Arthur wonders if Carly actually lives with them. All the adults smile at this. There is rosé wine and sometimes gin and tonics. There is always a very wholesome main course and usually a wonderful crumble. Once there was a chocolate babka, as they had all been watching the Great British Bake Off. They watched some of the episodes whilst crafting. Carly was doing her knitting; Zoë her patchwork quilt using hexagonal shapes and Charlie drawing trees with crows. Arthur is supposed to be going to sleep! With his bear who has a pair of handknitted britches. Made by Carly and for sure supremely itchy. Carly says to Zoë – see bears don’t complain!

Carly really enjoys listening to the bassoon, but she doesn’t want to upset Zoë that she doesn’t really like all the music Zoë plays. It is all very ancient. She likes the opera Zoë plays but isn’t so keen on all this oldy-woldy repertoire. She does go to some concerts, grinning and bearing the music. She has never told this to Zoë who will find out when she reads this story. Carly realises this is yet another weakness – that she hasn’t had the nerve to tell Zoë face-to-face. But for sure Zoë is a Carly story fan and will find out in the end. Carly hopes Zoë will be ok with her spinelessness, honesty and reticence.

But for sure Carly has had an effect on Zoë who now emails her in the “Carly style”.

Carly has given Zoë a new light. It is surprising to receive a Christmas present from someone as Jewish as Carly. Zoë is touched and grateful. The light is very bright and very penetrating, like Carly who has often helped Zoë through dark places and now she is doing so in a most literal sense. Hmmmmmmmmmmm, thinks Zoë. She is lucky to have a friend who can do this. And who seems happy to do it.

So, Carly brings light into Zoë’s life and also colour. There is a beautiful mystery blanket and there have been many other brightly coloured things, often made of wool but not always. Light, colour and comfort. Thank you, Carly.

Carly thinks that Zoë will cope with her cowardice and use of this story to reveal the truth. Of course, she will cope. Humans always triumph over adversity. And it is only the minor problem of Carly’s differing views on ancient bassoon music and environmental activism. And she did tell her in the end. Just in a roundabout way!

The end (of this one)

14 Carly goes to Leeds

Finally, in the middle of her second term of her second year at Uni, Boo invites her mother Carly to visit and stay overnight. Carly is delighted to accept, but a little apprehensive. She knows that student shared households are grotty and messy. She can accept ‘seedy’ as that isn’t the students’ fault. They usually rent in run down houses in dodgy areas from charlatan landlords. But the mess – well she can’t accept that!

She also knows that Boo is permanently embarrassed about what Carly might say. Or do. Before she even gets her train ticket, Boo gives Carly a long lecture about the importance of toilet etiquette. Really, Boo would prefer, if she didn’t do any number 2s. But that just isn’t going to be possible. Carly has a bowel habit that matches her over-exuberant mind. Always racing and rushing and winning. So, the rules are that she must lock the door and place the toilet paper in the bowl before she sits on the toilet seat. This will absorb any annoying sounds and smells. But this requires meticulous planning and Carly doesn’t always have that sort of warning and preparation time. Sometimes she just thinks about going to the toilet and it takes all her concentration to become enthroned in time.

So, these extra regulations are irksome. Really everyone has to do poohs. But actually, come to think of it, when she was at school with those awful open-planned and exposed toilet stalls, she would always flush before doing her business so that no one would hear her. Now Carly is so much more confident she doesn’t care so much. It is normal to defecate. What is the problem here? And then horror of horrors, she remembers meeting a patient (Carly is a paediatrician) who told her that they had an open-style toilet stall at the back of the classroom. This is, for sure, institutional child abuse. No wonder children withhold stool and get constipated. Carly snickers but quickly sighs. Oh dear.

As it takes a while to get the train up to see her daughter, Carly has decided, unlike on previous occasions, she will not just come up for the day. Two and half hours there and the same back, (assuming no cancellations) is too much. Especially as Carly has such a long list of morning rituals to undertake so that she feels grounded. Firstly, she has to light all her candles, take her whopping great big vitamin tablet for women over 50, make a cup of herbal tea (300mls), drink her carafe of 750mls of water. Then she can hop back to bed to read her novel, followed by knitting whilst listening to educational podcasts by the BBC. Then it is the yoga – mostly only 10 minutes, followed by a strenuous resistance 7-minute workout. After that she can reward herself with a green smoothie whilst writing 10 things in her gratitude diary. It is no wonder she doesn’t have time to meditate as well. She would never get on with the day. Oh, and she must feed the cats. But they are unlikely to let her forget. Forever meowing and rubbing along her legs.

So, this means when she goes to see Boo this time, she has to stay over. And there are no spare rooms in her house. And Boo only has a very small bed. In the end they sleep top to toe. It is much easier to deal with stray feet than a big head and mussy hair, not to mention halitosis. There is still a problem though. You can’t be farting in the bed. Well, that sacrifice will need to be made in the interests of maintaining a good mother/daughter relationship, considers Carly magnanimously.

Carly is delighted that Boo has come to the train station to meet her. This is a very good start to the visit. Boo has thoughtfully brought a spare backpack to share the load of Carly’s luggage. Shame it is so cold and rainy up there in the north of England. But the local people are really friendly. Carly can’t decide if she prefers weather over friendliness? This is a difficult call. Also, is it really true that people who live on the equator are totally unpleasant? No, this is a completely ridiculous argument. It is likely this has more to do with poverty than the weather. Boo does tell Carly that there are some rules about clothing that divide the north and south. She explains you can always tell where people are from looking at their trousers. Northerners wear leggings which are flared, whereas Southerners wear the same but in denim. Carly has wandered around this Uni town enough to be able to spot the difference. She is pleased with herself. She quite likes this game. Spot the difference. One of her previous early morning grounding rituals was to do one page of a book with these visual puzzles. She wouldn’t let herself move onto the next one until she had found all the differences. Except after seven continuous days would she look up the answer. She also played one round of patience. This only worked out about once a month. If it did work out and she could complete the game, she felt she was well set-up for the day with good omens. Carly likes to believe in premonitions. She even had a tarot card reading recently.

After a takeaway Vietnamese lunch, they head to Boo’s student house. Carly is a bit horrified when she walks up the path to the front door. She isn’t really sure what to expect. But the front garden is like a litter dumping ground. And Boo’s pyjamas are by the front steps. Then she did remember. Students sometimes get drunk and do silly things. Better to throw PJs out of the window than yourself. But still, Carly is a complete neat freak, so she finds the mess somewhat discombobulating. She makes a note to self. She is NOT to clear up. In her own front garden, yes. But not someone else’s. That is stepping outside the boundary of her daughter needing to do her own tidying. And joy of joys Boo has tidied her room. Nice one. In particular the blanket Carly painstaking knitted in Rowan cotton glace yarn that is on the bed. In one piece. No holes. Phew. But there was a problem. The room was boiling. And the radiator control was missing. So off went Carly to fix this. She trudged around local plumbing shops and returned with pliers and a new cap. But that radiator hadn’t been touched for years. Carly is strong and determined but no amount of persuasion could alter the heat blasting out from the radiator. She wished she had bought some WD40 but Carly erroneously thought she could sort out that valve without it. But she couldn’t. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Carly isn’t good at accepting failure.

In the evening when the household had retired to their rooms, she turned off the boiler. The house cooled down quickly and quietly. And whilst it was dark and the students still in noddy land, Carly switched it back on early the following morning! Phew. All ok. And whilst they slept and the house warmed up, Carly knitted downstairs at the same time as listening to a podcast about the history of mathematics. She was nearly beside herself with glee. It was about Hardy and Ramanujan. And the message was that prime numbers are distorted throughout the universe. Carly was convinced this was really speaking to her. She is obsessed with prime numbers; her son was also studying at Trinity College Cambridge (not maths though!) and Ramanujan was from India where she had just been on her sabbatical. Carly loves prime numbers so much that she has now started arranging meeting people at prime number times, such as at 1031 or 1327. 2357 is her absolute prime number time favourite as each of the numbers individually is a prime too. But she is almost invariably asleep by then!

One of Boo’s flatmates makes Carly an early morning coffee who is really grateful. Carly scrabbles around in the cupboard to secretly find sugar, only to cause an avalanche of lentils instead. She does eventually find a really out of date packet. She also notices a plethora of NutriBullet devices. When Carly was at Uni she had a fork for mashing. She isn’t sure why students now all need to mush up stuff to produce purées. Surely this consistency is only needed when you have babies you are weaning onto solids? Carly does remember this stage with Boo. Then she smiles. This was lovely memory as it was such a warm and cuddly experience. But there was a lot of crying too. Now is much better, she reflects. Boo and Carly can have such wonderful and funny conversations. And some hugs. Yes.

13 Carly is always right

This was a title suggested by Carly’s then new(ish) boyfriend David during the middle of the Covid 19 lockdown. Probably to point out going forward when Carly was not always right. It was clearly tongue in cheek. Carly knows she isn’t always right. A shame because Carly would like to always be right. She is strong, speedy and gregarious. She is brave and often fearless. Carly is willing to break the rules. Even the rules which are probably there not to be broken. She feels they unnecessarily obstruct her, and Carly always feels she can pull out the mental health card if she is breaking some of these pandemic rules. And although this isn’t the title of this story, Carly being right and Carly breaking rules feel rather entwined. Carly surprised some of her friends recently by refusing to sign a document without the signatory being there. They felt that Carly rarely follows the rules about lockdown and bubbles and hugging. But Carly feels that if she is being asked to witness something, then, that is a rule to be followed. She realises that this flip, flap and flopping around the rules cannot only be tricky for others, but seemingly downright rebellious. It seems that her daughter - Boo – thinks that Carly is an anarchist. Boo has written three emails recently whilst at university, to Carly, about her observations of her peers. Carly feels that her own daughter is very funny and is rather horrified that she, Carly, cannot actually outwit Boo. Humour is very subjective after all. But still. This is very difficult for Carly who is supremely competitive. Here are the three emails. But no. Boo isn’t going to allow this to happen. For Carly to win that is. She will let Carly put them in this story.

Carly may always be right, but she certainly doesn’t always get her own way. Hurrrrrrumph sighs Carly. Very tedious. Carly wanted to include the entirety of all the emails from her daughter to quickly make up the word count of her stories to around 1,500, but Boo said no. She only allowed Carly to put in snippets. Carly does follow that rule. Breaking rules repeatedly with your own children is so very likely to come back to bite you in the backside, remonstrates Carly with herself.

Email snippet 1. During lockdown.

The university made it clear. Only students who don’t have the facilities to work at home may be able to go to the library. So those in the library right now must either be abused or anarchists. I consider myself the latter, something I must have inherited from my anti-lockdown mother.

Carly is quite pleased to be called an anarchist. She is unashamedly anti-lockdown. As an extreme extrovert, just talking to screens all day long is like picking open sores. This isn’t a good idea if you want to prevent keloid scars. These are the nasty, raised thick ones. But is she an anarchist? Hard to say. She’s actually not sure and it feels a bit overwhelming to not follow any rules. She proceeds to read the second snippet.

Email snippet 2

I’ve been musing about the café/study spaced named ‘Common Ground’. I think the university intended students to come here to settle their differences by reaching a common ground, over a cup of coffee or hot chocolate. I’m not sure this marketing would affect me, however, seeing as caffeine only makes me more argumentative.

Carly is so addicted to coffee that she has written a whole story about it. It almost makes her sympathetic to smokers who are also hooked on their own habit. Even though she detests smoking with a passion. She doesn’t even know how to physically smoke, which is undoubtedly the best way to avoid smoking! It is not a transferable skill of use. But does coffee make her argumentative? Hell no!

Email snipped 3

For days now, my housemates and I have been planning a cultural, themed night. I bought some Henna the other day, so we settled for Indian. My flatmate makes excellent food and is afforded the title “Head Chef”. But she put the plastic containers filled with Indian food, directly in the oven. I’m sure I don’t have to explain to you what happened. All I’ll say is that her title has since been removed.

Carly is particularly delighted to see that her sense of right and wrong has been passed on to her offspring. When people do stupid things, then they have to pay the price. Titles need to be earnt and not just be awarded willy-nilly. Carly has always felt she is right about this. There is never any way round things except hard graft. She feels people are always complaining about this and that. But they can change things. They are in charge of their destiny and for sure no one else can change this. It is all about having agency. Carly is absolutely sure she is right about this. And of course, to be an expert you need to have done 10,000 hours. Outliers, by Malcolm Gladwell, makes this argument watertight. The only things that Carly has done for 10,000 hours are sleeping, eating, knitting and doctoring. She is quite an expert at the toilet, as well. She marvels at her own bowel transit time. She is sure she wins this race easily. Beetroot from mouth to toilet takes a cool 19 minutes. Yippee. Funny how it happens to be one of two favourite prime numbers. And could she apply for entry into the next Guinness Book of Records?

The one person who, without any shadow of doubt, doesn’t think Carly is always right, is her daughter Boo. She has a long list of complaints. In fact, so do her sons, and of course her ex-husband, (otherwise, clearly, they would still be together!) Her children are ’super critical’. In the way that young people are nowadays, muses Carly. She would never have been able to say this to her parents. She wonders if she should? Nah she says. Too tricky for all that now.

As David was the person who suggested Carly write this story, he definitely needs to feature in it. And of course, he may not be so happy about this situation. David and Carly are in a new relationship, so Carly needs to be mindful of what she says about David. It could be the end and Carly is pretty desperate to continue. Desperate not because she is some sort of frantic saddo who needs to be permanently in a relationship but because she actually quite likes David. Hmmmmmmmmmmm. She is in a pickle. She wants him to have some payback for his suggestion (which is good and true – Carly is always right), but without it being over the top leading to the end of said relationship. But Carly is always over the top. Well, a lot of the time. This can be quite dangerous as she always thinks she is right too. And maybe David is always right. She wonders if everyone actually either openly or secretly thinks they are always right. And of course, lots of people row with each other. So clearly not everyone can be right all the time.

To deal with this potential problem David and Carly have made talking sticks. These have lots of different connotations but in the craft book she is using for inspiration, these talking sticks are to help resolve issues. David found some lovely sticks in a local wood. Carly finished hers within the week. She didn’t follow the instructions to paint it. Instead, she wrapped it in sumptuous purple yarn. What she cannot really understand is why David is taking so long to complete his stick? He wasn’t even going to paint it. He has also shown that he doesn’t need to rigidly follow instructions. Phew thinks Carly. Being with a total rule abider will not work with Carly. He has planned to sand it and varnish his stick. Carly has even brought some teak oil to speed up this process but still, weeks later, his stick is not finished. She even threatened she would take back the teak oil to inspire him to complete this project that he actually chose. Carly can let others make suggestions, but she is still flabbergasted at his snail’s pace with his stick preparation and project completion. But she remains quite glad as she won completing her stick first. Although David would say it wasn’t a race. But it does mean she can hold her stick and do lots and lots of talking uninterrupted!

Carly once went on a leadership course. Actually, one of many. In it she learnt she there are five drivers that motivate humans. Be Perfect, Be Strong, Hurry Up, Please Others and Try Hard. She feels that she most aligns with hurry up and that try hard is an anathema to her. Of course, you always try hard and achieve. Why wouldn’t you? Mostly she likes to please people, but she needs to be strong as well and hopefully perfect? But really if everyone else could hurry up then we could all get so much more done – like being strong, attaining perfection, pleasing all and trying hard. Carly realises that she has too much energy and this does impact on what she can do and more importantly how she feels others fall short of the mark. So, others should always hurry up. This might go some way to understanding why David hasn’t finished his talking stick. She is quite sure he is certainly not a hurry up person. David has taught Carly quite a bit, she reflects. Particularly how Carly isn’t always right. More importantly Carly just likes being with David. This feels right. ATM. This stands for At The Moment – not somewhere to get cash out!

Post Script

David and Carly finished some months later. A disagreement about a higher power. Carly feels certain there is one and of course is right about this…..