How Time Goes Faster As You Get Older.blog

 

 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) 

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.

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…..

During my sabbatical in India, I attempted and completed a lot of purple, spiral and prime number crafts. Most I had done before to some extent. But one which was new was learning to make dreamcatchers. The shape and the significance of them has really spoken to me. Since then I have made a number of dreamcatchers on paper. Always purple and usually in ink or paint. But I am also inspired by the local area.

I came to live in Israel on 3 September 2023. The stress of moving me and all my stuff and my dog was immense. Lots of highs and lows. Amazing people – I just loved it but I needed some time to be creative and to switch off. I went to my favourite retreat. Limnisa, near Methana, Greece. I write my stories which I have started uploading on this blog, I run, I swim, I walk and I do yoga. But I also do about three dreamcatchers or more each day. To get my creative juices going I pick three angel cards and write about them in my journaling diary. Important topics like trust, creativity and faith to name a few.

Here are the large ones I made.

and the small ones I made (10) on Methana.

I used paint, ink, wax, embroidery thread, silver religious sweets, plants, post it stickers, feathers and crayons.

First up was a facetime call with an American Paediatrician but it was really clear during the whole of this time he was just clearing up his inbox and sending out emails. Or maybe he was shopping online? And more importantly, he was not paying Carly the attention she felt she deserved and certainly craved. It was no wonder thought Carly rather meanly, that this man was totally wedded to his work. No wonder his marriage failed!

Next off was a chat with Craig. He was American (again!), living in London with 4 children but working in Israel. Anyway, he was stuck in Tel Aviv so that wasn’t going to be much of a goer considered Carly. Just far too complicated for right now. Carly is very much a right now, in the moment sort of woman. Patience has never been one of her virtues.

Then there was really religious man. He had a long beard and, on the call, sat in front large religious tomes with only Hebrew writing. He had previously been a police office and had not been in the least bit Jewish at all. Now he lived in Southend-on-Sea and was a counsellor. Funny how people can help to sort out others but never keep their own house in order. He had had no contact with his daughter for 17 years. Red flag. No excuses. No thanks.

Next up a taxi driver. Carly was a bit reticent as there would be great deal of difference in education but then colleagues at work reminded Carly that “The Knowledge” required a huge amount of effort and was tricky to pass. So, she gave him a try. He was rather small. But Carly is no giant. The time at the coffee shop passed passably. But he had to go and pay to extend his parking and returned smelling of smoke. Carly’s nose wrinkled demonstrably, and she was clear. Smoking equals a loud and firm NO. Carly has broken her rule of using shouty CAPTIALS. Just in case anyone wasn’t sure. No smokers. At all. EVER.

Then Carly met an Indian Jew. She thought this was a good idea as she had been to India recently and met a number of Jews. It meant there would be something to chat about. Actually, Carly is pretty good at small talk and considers, as a total and extreme extrovert, she can pretty much to talk to anyone, anywhere about anything. But all this dating can be tiring even for Carly. Firstly, she was irritated as he failed to meet her at the allotted meeting point. She’d even given him precise road details. So, she sped round the park to find him. He was wearing a really scrotty, disgusting T shirt. Unimpressive thought Carly. Really? Can someone make so little effort? And more importantly when they went to eat at a café and he sidled up towards her, she moved a little further along the bench until she was sandwiched between the wall and him. This was not going anywhere. The writing was on the wall. A bit like Carly squished up against the wall. STOP!

Then Carly met Simon. He was a really lovely man. He was academic and intellectual. He tried really hard, and they chatted most evenings in the first few weeks that they had met. On the 4^th July 2020 which was the first day restaurants were open Carly took the train to the Cotswolds excitedly. She felt like a kid going to a playground for the first time since the winter. Simon wore a purple polo shirt to match Carly’s recently dyed hair. They ate a wonderful meal in the summer sunshine at a superlative gastropub. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm Carly thought. Why is his son, Benny, scooting past? After the delicious food they went to the organic farm Dalesford. As they drove in the other car parking next to them was family from northwest London. This was Carly’s first real date since she was 18 and now, she was 55! The teenage kids were mortified with embarrassment, but all the adults could see the funny side of it. Then Carly and Simon returned to his home. Therein lies the problem. Simon kept trying to get Benny to engage with Carly who then worked out what was really going on. Whether by luck or convenience Benny’s mother was going to emigrate to Italy leaving Simon to look after their son who was overweight and pre-diabetic, autistic and so hypermobile he couldn’t walk and had to scoot. No thanks thought Carly. Oher people’s kids are to be seen at work as that is part of Carly’s job as a paediatrician. And her kids were on their way out of the nest. Sorry Simon and Benny. This wasn’t for Carly.

Next, she met Boston. This was a wild and intense romance. They met in person for two full days in London where Carly lived and Nottingham where Boston did. He was given that name not because he was born or conceived in Boston but because this was the name of the consultant obstetrician that was written above his mother’s hospital bed when he was born. Then they went away for a long weekend. It was fun and exciting. But Boston wanted to have sex all the time. Not just once or twice a day. But at least five and when you are 65 it isn’t that quick, and Carly would run out of time to do other things she like to do with her time. It was fun whilst it lasted. Intense and fun. Hey ho.

Then there was Frances. Professor Frances actually. Carly realised we were both medical and they introduced themselves. Oh, he said. I am a professor of cardiovascular science. And Carly said, “I am a professor, too”. He wrote back “how very surprising”. Carly thought this could be taken one of two ways. Really, she couldn’t be sure. Was he actually surprised or not? Grrrrrrrrrr – texting really can be so nuanced it made understanding tricky. Clear communication at all times signalled Carly to herself. She then suggested they meet for a coffee one Sunday morning in Camden. It was tipping down with rain and Carly was wearing her tight dating dress but had cycled. But Frances was 15 minutes late. Cary wondered if he was going to turn up. She looked up and noticed someone cycling past on an old-fashioned bike holding up an umbrella and a large lime green woven bike chain around his waist. He didn’t even get the coffee shop right let alone the time! At least, he had dressed smartly. But he had been economical with the truth. Carly had met Frances on a Jewish dating app. He wanted to be Jewish, but he wasn’t. She didn’t want to pursue things and so never did find out about if he had a foreskin or not. Another one bites the dust.

Carly had been messaging a really good-looking man called Philippe. He was a psychotherapist. A bit scary, mused Carly, wondering if he would be all knowing and all getting it? But Carly has a bit of an obsession with tidying. She likes a tidy house, office and inbox. So, she was busy clearing up her dating notifications and swiped left rather than right when on Philippe’s profile. That was him deleted. There is no recourse here. She tried looking him up on google but the psychotherapist called Philippe in London looked very different! That is the problem when you have OCD with electronic mess and notifications. Carly is only really content with an empty email inbox at both home and work. And for real? OCD. She is allergic to abbreviations. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. There you go.

Sometimes the photos can be so blurry you really cannot tell what they look like. Some don’t even pay for the app at all and so you have no photo. Hopeless, thinks Carly. She did meet someone who she thought might have some rather pointy and sharp features. The reality was even more spikey when she met him. Eyes so deep set you began to wonder if you could ever look lovingly into them. And they were separated from a conk the size of concord. Really this man was not for her.

Then she met David. And is still with him. Well, she was at the actual time she wrote this story. But after a year they parted ways. Interesting it was a difference of opinion about God. A lofty reason but true, nonetheless. Shame as Carly was determined to find someone. And David really was lovely, and their first date was when she had a black eye and unbeknownst to her at the time a broken arm. But it wasn’t to be. Hey ho it was good whilst it lasted and proved that online dating can work!

There were quite a few more exchanges on dating apps that went nowhere. Carly expects this might be to do with Carly not really being good on text. She is worried that she will get repetitive strain injury in her thumbs, and this will affect her ability to knit. And she may or may not end up in a relationship but her affiliation with yarn is sacrosanct. Everyone needs to know this; Carly remonstrates with herself.

Carly really enjoys going to Brighton. A fun, sassy and exciting place and she has been there many times over the years. But recently she has been going there a lot to stay in Dom and Nic’s flat on top of a hotel overlooking the sea. It is a really magical place to sit and do your writing and knitting whilst listening to podcasts and looking at the sea. And also, to observe the Brighton Eye which is a strange sort of enormous needle with a polo that goes up and down, up and down, up and down. It is all very bizarre. Carly thinks how strange these new “eyes” are that now define the skyline of both London and Brighton. Hmmmmmmmmmmm, muses Carly. She would have thought that old buildings would mark the landscape but no, these “eyes” are new buildings just to show participants the 360-degree panorama. Carly is reminded of an owl. This is one of her favourite birds and the thought of swivelling around your neck to check on what people are saying about you behind your back would be fabulous. But really is this the case? Maybe Carly should not feel the need to be so very paranoid? Actually, yes, she thinks maybe she should! 

So, Carly cannot remember the first time she went to Brighton. This is because Carly’s memory is really bad. Really, she can never recall anything. For instance, she has been to films and then remembered halfway through, after feelings of déjà vu, in fact, she has seen this film before. Similarly, this is the case with books she has read. Really, she should just keep a list! But she would need to fill this in and attention to detail isn’t one of Carly’s strong suits either. Although she does like creating lists. But more, so she can tick things off! For sure she doesn’t like repeating things. Like reading books or watching films. It feels like she is frittering her life away. 

However, she does remember coming to Brighton more recently. She came on the longest daylight hours weekend of the year which also happened to be the hottest in June 2019. This was part of her healing journey from the fallout she suffered from her recent divorce. She wanted to be in Dom and Nic’s flat whilst they were there. They persuaded her to bring the two dogs with her, but this was rather hectic. These dogs were both rescued from “All Dogs Matter”. Gracie(x) was a small and heady mixture of a great number of different ancestors. At least eight on the salivary genetic doggy heritage test. Gracie(x) was super anxious and also territorial. Not a great combo! Bryn was a pure-bred tri-colour collie. Not like a tricolore salad that Carly really enjoys of white mozzarella, green basil and red tomato. Bryn is white, brown and black. Not really a great surprise as dogs are most likely to be white, brown and black! Bryn was high maintenance all the time, with a constant need for attention – “play with me at all times and if you don’t 24/7, I shall bark, and bark and you guessed it bark some more!” Carly wondered why the police hadn’t been round to arrest him under an ASBO (anti-social barking order). 

Bryn wasn’t very good at travelling on the train. Carly liked to knit and tried to ignore Bryn’s inexorable demands. But then he drove all the other passengers mad with his constant need for their attention. So, she opted to drive. However, coming down on a Friday afternoon in the summer to the seaside wasn’t in fact a good idea as the journey took ages as well as being hot and bothersome. Eventually they all settled in, and the dogs slept in the main living room with Carly on a blow-up mattress. This was all very novel for Carly. It felt that the boats on the sea bobbing about were replicated in this living room for Carly. With her excitable dogs jumping up and down, barking for the sheer joy of it and not really considering the sensitives of the neighbours up here or the hotel guests below. And of course, certainly not thinking about their hosts Dom and Nic.  

As Carly is an early riser she quickly got dressed and herded the dogs out for a run and to survey the independent coffee scene. Phew. No shortage here in Brighton, Carly muses. Later on, she reconnected with Nic and Dom and off they went discovering all parts of Brighton that welcomed dogs. Bryn and Gracie(x) thoroughly enjoyed themselves barking at the water, at each other and anyone who paid them the least bit of attention. They also went to the marina and the pier, and they all loved listening to all the antics that Dom and Nic got up to in Brighton over the years. It was a really magical weekend and Carly thoroughly enjoyed it. 

Carly had made some bread from her sourdough starter. Her kids were always extremely rude about this bread. It was really heavy – actually dense – to be fair. But Nic and Dom were far too polite to complain. These sandwiches formed part of the picnic they all enjoyed on the South Downs. They went there on the top decker of the bus and before returning everyone had their own ice-cream. Even the dogs. But not with chocolate flakes. We all know how dangerous chocolate is for dogs. But is it really? Maybe this is apocryphal as humans just don’t like to share this wonderful food? 

The next time Carly went to Brighton was the following summer when she went away with her parents to Eastbourne. They did particularly like the fancy hotel there! It was called the Grand Hotel. It reminded Carly of the Netflix series she had watched of the same name set in 1905 in Spain. But in the Eastbourne Grand Hotel, there was none of the drama, amazing costumes and good weather of the TV series. Only lots of elderly people with their Zimmer frames, sticks and wheelchairs. Carly contemplated that she and her parents were the only guests without any walking aids at all! It was really fun, and it was nice to spend time with them, but she did feel like a bit of a saddo having to go away with her parents in her mid-50s. Maybe this was better than going away with randos. This is the term her daughter Boo calls people that Carly considers as friends, but Boo says she only has a limited connection with. But Carly is a determined extrovert and loves to make new friends all the time. Not so Boo. 

So, on the middle day in Eastbourne, Carly and her parents decided they could get a bus to Brighton for free on their bus passes. Obviously not Carly, but she is happy to pay and knit whilst watching the scenery. The weather was glorious, and most shops were open. There were lots of people out and about and the place felt really alive. Not like The Grand Hotel! Carly wanted to explore a bit by herself. She thought there just some shops you don’t go with your 80-year-old parents when you are considering dating. Carly was about to go away with a man she had met on a dating app. She was quite excited about this but didn’t really want to explain in great detail to her parents the situation. So, she returned to the sex shop she’d seen earlier. But in reality, even Carly was too shy and overcome with embarrassment to go into this shop once she was alone, later on. Carly and her parents all met up afterwards and had a wonderful fresh fish supper siting outside in the atmospheric “Laines”. It was made all the more memorable as there was no ban at that time in 2020 on eating in restaurants.  

Later on, that year, Carly worked flat out. Every weekend and weekday for a month. There was a lot of work around and Carly liked to be helpful and some of it was as paid locum work. Carly was desperate to go away to do her writing and knitting. Dom and Nic were delighted to lend their unused flat to Carly for two weekends in November. And Carly was even more thrilled to be there by herself. She even met up with friends who lived nearby. On the second trip she cycled to the station in London, and brought her bike on the train. She arrived at St Pancras station during rush hour. Oh no. The train staff said no bikes on the train for a further two hours.

What was Carly going to do? All the restaurants were closed, and Carly would freeze waiting for the end of rush hour. But Carly is innovative. And adaptable. She tried to get through the barriers when the staff were looking the other way. She thought she had seen this on a film. But no, Carly failed. This displeased Carly immensely. Then she reconsidered. She will cycle to the next station down the line. Farringdon isn’t too far away. And guess what. No staff! And loads of bikes. All hunky dory. Carly bundled her bike through the barrier. And onto the train. Ha. Yet again Carly wins. This pleases her immensely as Carly is super competitive! She had a lovely journey down and even snuck into first class to charge her phone.  

Carly really enjoyed the cold wintry weather in Brighton. She was interviewed for a podcast. Of course, they never asked her the questions they said they would, which she had prepared. But, actually, Carly is confident in this subject and would just take it on the hoof again when the opportunity arose. None of this irrelevant overly preparation business next time. You just don’t waste Carly’s time and get away with it!   

She invited her friend Lizzy down for the day with her dog Toto. But no more of this now, as Lizzy will someday have a story all of her own.

A bit like Sandra, where Carly is illegally holed up for some of lockdown. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhh – just don’t say anything to anyone! Luckily, Carly has got loads of friends, although each of them is likely to be a bit wary about having a story written entirely about them. On the other hand, they are excited to be famous and bask in Carly’s glory and fame. 

10 Carly gives special consideration to email etiquette. 

Carly spends a lot of time replying to emails. She also thinks about them a lot. There are a number of things that irritate her about them. She deliberately uses her time cycling to sort out email replies in her head. She thinks it is dangerous to cycle in crazy London traffic with headphones. She either spends her time cycling doing Latin declensions – really for no reason, citing long lists of rhyming words or more recently replying to emails in her head so that the actual responses when she gets to her computer to logon are more measured.  

She is not shy to tell others when they have clearly uploaded an old out-of-office reply or one that doesn’t make sense. The ones that really annoy her are the ones where people tell you they are so busy when they return that they cannot filter through the ones they have received but that it is your duty to resend it. This is just plain rude. Why is their time so much more important than mine, thinks Carly? I have to remember when these various people are back, she muses. And then resend them? This is clearly nonsensical. And Carly, being a confident person, has no trouble in informing her colleagues telling them that this is poor auto-reply email etiquette. She does know a thing or two about such etiquette. She has even published in a very popular medical journal about how to email patients or their relatives. This isn’t exactly the same thing, but Carly thinks it still gives her more kudos than others on how to use email properly and appropriately. 

There are other things that annoy her about emails from other people. Quite often they use SHOUTY CAPITALS and worse still sometimes in red. She tells them this makes the recipient feel vulnerable and under attack but also reduces the reading rate by 50%. The CAPITALS this is. Not the red. That is just shouty red. This is similar to using underlining, but it is less of an issue as it only interferes with the letters f, j, p, q and y as these have stalks below the line. CAPITALS means you lose the help given by dots and strokes above the line like b, d, f, h, i, j, k, l and t. Carly is keen to teach these useful rules to anyone she meets. A bit like desisting from using abbreviations when no one can remember the full word. She smiles as she never once used FRP in her doctoral thesis which is all about Familial Rectal Pain. “The goal is clarity” whizzes round her head like a mantra regularly. That’s thanks to one of her mentors, Ben Lloyd, who used that phrase regularly.  

Carly spends a lot of time working on her email signature so it clear and helpful. She has a quote by a famous woman to inspire people. She has a picture of a cat in it as she works at the Whittington Hospital. This is in Archway, North London, where Dick Whittington turned round when he heard the sound of the Bow bells. He then marched back into London with his black cat and a stick with his belongings in a red and white gingham cloth bag to eventually became Lord Mayor of London. Carly adores cats and has had various black cats over the years. One was Ocean and another Shadow. The black cat in her email signature is rather chubby, obviously female and has a red stethoscope. A bit like Carly. The size. And being female. But Carly only has black, pale blue and lilac stethoscopes. Not a red one.  

Carly considers very carefully what she will write in her out of office message. She only does this when she goes away. Some people put them on every week as they are part time but getting all these out-of-offfices is annoying thinks Carly. What people want to know who receive your autoreply is; 

What are you doing? And when are you coming back? 

In fact, the latter point is really what they want to know. Over time Carly has been very careful to try and write amusing one or two liners. Here are two recent ones. 

‘I am off to Brighton to watch the sea, curl up under a furry electric blanket whilst writing and knitting for the week. Back at work on Monday 16^th November 2020’. 

‘I am off to a week in Greece. A yoga and writing retreat. I know it is blissful as I have been there before. But you have to be silent until lunchtime. Now that will be tricky! Back 13^th Sept 2020’.  
 

Sometimes they are longer. Carly feels she is justified if she is going for a long time. 

‘I am going on a sabbatical for 4 months to Jaipur. Only 4 years in the planning and endless NHS red tape! I am hoping to try and find myself…..who knows what, where, why and how this will be? But when you have worked for 15 years without a break it is nice to stop and do something different for a bit. I will sporadically check this email account but if you want to see what I am doing you can follow my blog https://howtimegoesfasterasyougetolder.blog/ Back St David’s day 2020’. 

Really this has probably irritated people, as she has expected that people can work out when she will be back. But they really only know Christmas Day, Boxing Day and New Year’s Day. St David’s day is 1^st March. Carly says to herself – sometimes we give too much on a plate to people. Thinking keeps people’s minds healthy. 

Often, she tells people about her holidays and what she will be doing. 

‘I shall be on holiday (riding, knitting, getting hot and sticky) and then at a conference returning late on Wednesday 3^rd September 2014. Of course, I will check my emails – who doesn’t anymore? But should I? Probably not. Can I resist? Probably not. Is there WiFi everywhere? Most likely. Enough blither. Let’s get packing and head off to ride a horse in Wales…………before that conference’.  

‘I am going to New York tomorrow for a few days. It will be freezing outside and boiling inside, and I am seriously in doubt I will find any Wifi……! So, it maybe I don’t logon to my emails every other minute. But you never know……………Returning 5.2.17’ 
 

‘Yet again I am being dragged off to the slopes. Lots of comments on how can you ski so slowly? Thanks for coming with us for this run – really one is enough – why don’t you go and have a nice coffee and do some knitting………..pity me. 
And as for checking emails. 
Well not when I am knitting. 
But try me – I might when I have finished for the day. 
Back 19.2.19’ 

‘I’ll be back 29.8.16 when I return from using my annual leave to plan my retirement to run holidays in Israel. Well sort of…… You never can plan too early! Are you up for a knitting break in Tel Aviv in the years to come? Pilates? Watercolour painting? Singing?’  

And some she wonders may really upset people with her directness. Is this a proxy for rudeness? Hmmmmmmmmmmmm wonders Carly? 

‘I shall be away on annual leave until Sunday 11^th August 2013 with some but limited access to reply to those bugging me on email. You know who you are……………….’ 

And at other times she wonders if people might be jealous of her exotic holidays. But Carly firmly believes that it is good to work hard and play hard. Maybe this is just internal justification! 

‘I shall be travelling around Burma with my family until 3.1.14. Elephants, monks, cycles, knitting => bliss!’ 

‘Am off to Cuba with three disaffected and disinterested teenagers. So, whilst they stay in the room hunting for that elusive WiFi, I will be dancing in the street and partaking of Cuban food. Lucky me! Back 27^th December 2016’. 

Carly has lots of comments on her autoreplies. At least one from each set. If she doesn’t then she worries she has offended someone along the way. Really, muses Carly, you have too much time on your hands to be worrying so much about other’s perceptions of your autoreplies. You are a health care professional. Not a stand-up comedienne or professional email auto-reply writer…..She is glad she hasn’t got into trouble yet. 

Carly never got a nickname from her parents. Only her sister has a nickname. And Carly gave that to her when she was two from a nursery rhyme. The one where Polly puts the kettle on and Sukey takes it off again. Her sister’s full name is Susanne, but she’s always been known as Sukey. Even her sister’s children have nick names. Unlike Carly and her other siblings. Carly is still jealous of her sister’s nickname and wants to give herself a nice one. She had some at school, but they weren’t very nice. Mostly she was called Fert or Fart. Neither were appropriate or kind.  

So, when she was in her mid-50s, Carly went on a course. It was all encompassing. It was for her body, mind and soul. During this course she told everyone she had had a brain transplant. Obviously, this was metaphorical. Or maybe metaphysical? Carly knows you can transplant most organs and even limbs but not brains. Well, she thinks not? Anyway, she is adamant she hasn’t had a personality transplant as she was happy with that aspect of herself. Well sort of. As happy as one can expect at this stage. And when she had this “brain” transplant, she took a new name. A known diminutive of her given name. Take out the letter ‘o’ and replace the ‘ine’ with a ‘y’. When Carly previously drew out her name, she drew a car connected to a washing line by an “o”. Car-o-line. By removing both the “o” and the (l)ine she was radically departing from her former self.  

When you take on a nickname later in life, you can actually research this pretty thoroughly. And especially in the days of the internet, you don’t have to go and invest in a baby naming book. 

Carly does like making lists. And looking at other’s lists. She finds a large number of nicknames before she decides on Carly. She isn’t sure she has chosen the right one. But she is pleased there are 23 to choose from. A very lovely prime number. Saul’s favourite. Carly has recently found others who are just as obsessed about prime numbers as she is. Her favourites are 7 and 19. 

Nicknames for Caroline 

Caro – The most common nickname for Caroline. This is what her Mum calls her now. 

Carol – Carly never did like this name. She apologises to all Carols out there! 

Callie – Is Callie a nickname for Caroline? Seems so. Urgh thinks Carly. 

Caddie – Caddie is an old nickname for Caroline. But it reminds Carly of a wooden caddie where you keep things, especially tea leaves. She is not sure that this is how she wants to be perceived going forward. 

Cal – A shortened form of Caroline. Sounds like a boy’s name, Carly thinks. She is keen to remain a woman, even in these days of gender fluidity. 

Car – Short form of Caroline. For real, thinks Carly, she wants to be a car? Errrrrr, no thanks. 

Cara – A sweet, short nickname for Caroline. Carly agrees but has chosen a different diminutive.  

Cara Curls – For a Caroline with naturally curly hair – well Carly has pretty straight hair so this would be misleading, she thinks. 

Care Bear – “Perhaps, the sweetest Caroline nickname according to this search”. Watch out. This has induced strong nauseous feelings in Carly. She may just vomit. 

Carla – This is sold as another popular nickname for Caroline. But it makes Carly think of an opera singer. And one thing Carly cannot do is sing. Once when she was in rock choir the singers either side of her put their fingers in their ears to drown out Carly’s singing. Carly realises that this is a problem with choirs that don’t require auditions. But Carly is sad as singing in this time of lockdown could increase the possibility of spreading coronavirus. Hence it is banned. When she cycles down the Holloway Road in the dark no one cares or can see her singing her heart out.  

Carly – The lexicon says this is a cool name for Caroline. Carly is smiling. This is why she chose it. Can you be cool at 50? Carly thinks so. Her children certainly don’t.  

Carolien – A Dutch variant of Caroline. “Hardly a nickname” muses Carly. All they have done is swap the last two letters around. Really this isn’t a nickname. Harrumph thinks Carly. It is more like a misspelling. 

CaroMine – Carly does quite like this one. 

CaroWine – But Carly likes this one even more. It is true that Carly does like a drink but to be defined by it in a nickname you chose in the later stages of your life really is opening yourself up to all sorts of problems.  

Carrie – Another common nickname for Caroline. But Carly knows quite of lot of them, and they remind her of Carrie’s war which is sad. Carly has enough sadness in her life without choosing a nickname that would constantly remind her of this. Carly wants to choose a nickname which is about new beginnings. 

Cat – Carly considers this a stretch, but it is a legitimate Caroline nickname. Actually, she wishes she had chosen this. She totally loves cats but too late now. Her work signature file always has some black cat image somewhere in it anyway. Never mind!  

Cathy – Carly has been told this is a nickname for Caroline. But this is a stretch. It is clearly one for Catherine. 

Cawol – This name is listed as suitable for a baby girl named Caroline, because if she could talk, this is exactly how she’d pronounce her name. Oh dear, Carly cannot bear this. She really might puke this time. 

Caz – This is popular in the Antipodes. And Carly already has a friend who uses this nickname. Carly just got there too late! 

Coco – This is listed as a cute or funny Caroline nickname; it depends on your tone. Carly isn’t really sure about cute. There is something that irks her. And it always reminds her of Coco Channel. Carly is popular but she isn’t famous! But maybe one day…… 

Leena/Lina – This is from the end of Caroline. Carly doesn’t really like names beginning with an L which is the 12^th letter of the alphabet. C is the 3^rd (prime) and much better and the C letter itself is much curlier she muses. L is too straight and angular. Not at all cuddly. 

Arrow – From (c→-ARROW-line). Carly looks at this and just thinks this is mad, mad, mad. She doesn’t want such a ridiculous nickname. The derision of having Arrow as a nickname is unfathomable. Like her childhood nick names of Fert and Fart. 

Olie – This nickname is using the middle of Caroline. But really it is a boy’s nickname so no thanks to this one.  

But to change your name in your 50s is no mean thing. It is most likely (and hopefully for Carly) over halfway through your life. Carly for sure wants to live up to 100 but probably not much more. Who really does? So, when Carly changed her name, many people she knew got annoyed or irritated. Some got downright angry saying that it was too big a proposition for them to follow. They lectured her that she was far too old to do this. But Carly retorted “why not now?” And then followed this up with “if not now, when?” Actually, Carly used much worse language to be honest and stronger sentiments than this rather meek questioning style.  

Certainly, her children won’t use Carly. But they didn’t use Caroline anyway. And “Mum” from them will always be fine with her. She is their mother and not their friend. Boundaries are important to Carly, and she feels it is important to maintain them at all times. She also wanted her name to align with her children’s names. She now rhymes with them. They all ended with a ‘y’. They have all left home now, but this way she could remain close to them. She thinks they will vomit when they read this. Gosh what a lot of nauseous feelings floating around! 

All the younger people easily manage the change to call her Carly. And of course, all the new people she meets do this as well. Most see taking a nickname is important and respect this. But some don’t. Some blatantly refuse and say she doesn’t look like a Carly. Others take the piss. Like the father of her children. He signs off an email as Artichoke. Now this is just plain silly. Carly is a real name. Artichoke is a vegetable and not a nickname for Ades. She is not sure what he is trying to do. Half of her thinks he is trying to upset Carly (her sad side) and the other half to rile her (her angry side). He is probably just trying to be funny. Anyway, Carly feels somewhat invincible and continues to keep her new name despite protestations from others.  

Since becoming Carly, she often didn’t respond to this name when she first changed it. For 54 years she had been called Caroline. She didn’t even mind that name. But it was very common, and Carly likes to be original. Carly knew at least 30 Carolines. All born in the 1960s and 70s. Also, she had a change in her marital circumstances, so this seemed another reason to take on a new persona. And there was a Carli who had fancied her ex-husband when they were students. This didn’t now matter! 

Funnily enough she did learn after about a year to respond and answer to being called Carly. But for the first month she wore a badge with Carly is big writing. No SHOUTY capitals or underlining. This is another one of Carly’s obsessions besides not using abbreviations. These are grammatical obsessions. She also loves purple, prime numbers and spirals. These are her non-grammatical obsessions. 

People kept approaching her asking why she was wearing a badge everywhere with her name on it? Had she lost the plot? “No!” admonished Carly. It just helped everyone remember to make the change. Including Carly herself. Only at the beginning.  

Carly thinks about other famous Carlies. She really admired Carly Simon, a famous singer who sang “You’re so vain – I bet you think this song is about you, don’t you?”. There were other Carly references online such as the American teen series iCarly and an app for cars. Carly had heard of neither but was happy to take them on as part of her reincarnation! Needs must, Carly said to herself, banishing Caroline to the mists of time. 

It has been drummed into Carly for as long as she can remember that it is very important to get onto the property ladder. She supposes she could have saved more money by living at home with her parents whilst studying but she values her independence enormously. Anyway, this is another one of her parent’s mantras. Being independent. So, Carly sees this above saving every last penny. Anyway, she has a good job, and she marries someone who has a more lucrative one. Carly doesn’t really mind that he earns more as she wins over him on having many more letters after her name than he has after his. And the fact that she is a doctor who supposedly helps people whilst he is a lawyer who makes money out of other people’s misfortunes. She muses that she is being rather simplistic. But he does works in corporate recovery which is a euphemism for insolvency. So he does work with human misery but related to unsuccessful business ventures rather than failed health issues.

On entry to heaven, she is sure she will score higher on the social accountability agenda entry criteria. Carly is competitive by nature. What a shame she gets divorced. Now it is not so easy check on how he does at these heavenly gates where the cherubic angels float around with their clipboards and check lists. Carly doesn’t just have rows with her ex in her head. She often rows with lots of other people. Always in her head. Often complete strangers. They have no idea. Maybe it is better to call them discussions. It is all about how important she feels she is compared to them. This reached an all-time high when she did a paediatric oncology job. Children with cancer. Really you can’t get more brownie points that that, but it also doesn’t get much more emotionally draining either! More importantly the world cannot only be staffed by people doing these sorts of jobs. There is a need to eat and wear clothes, realises Carly. So, judging others isn’t particularly healthy, she realises. Who really knows what is on that heaven entry gate list? This train of thought really is a long way from property. Back to the title.

Carly likes to decorate her home using lots of colours. In one flat the palate was limited to only lime green and fuchsia pink. When she buys a bottle of navy-blue shampoo, she has to keep it in a cupboard for fear of colour offence. Next time find the right colour – never mind the brand. Or even the product. Oh dear, Carly must really try harder. Luckily most toilet paper is white, so this was less of an issue. Actually no. Wait a moment. Her sister has black toilet paper……but all this attention to toilet paper colour is, as her daughter Boo would say, is a first world problem.

Also, she has to have outside access as part of her property. Not that Carly smokes. She hates that. Rather she needs to feel the wind, look at nature and read novels outside. It could be a balcony, or a garden will do. Especially if you can have a trampoline. Large or small. Bouncing is always good. Especially now Carly cannot knock herself out post breast reduction surgery! When younger, Boo would often bounce in the sleeting rain with the dogs on the large trampoline. Those small exercise ones are fun but they aren’t really for sharing. The older Boo is now much too worried about her makeup to do this reckless exercise.

Carly likes to have some connection with water. Best to look out over the sea, a river or reservoir. However, once she had a hot tub. This worked well as she had three teenagers who would never desist from using their phones which really bothered Carly. They loved to take their friends into this gorgeous, calming water and even they didn’t want to risk drowning their beloved devices.  So, Carly managed to get them off their screens for at least some of the time. The dogs loved the hot tub as much as anyone who went in it. They would always want to play “bring the ball and drop it into the hot tub” and when the ball was lost, they just barked at you until you flicked water at them which they drank mid-air. Snappy, snappy went their jaws. Really this was very tedious, especially for the teenagers who had come into relax and chat. Instead, it felt like active dog sitting or playing. A bit like babysitting when the children won’t go to bed, and you have to play with them and not get on with your own stuff. And worse still, no one paid you for these dog entertainment games. The hot tub was made of wood and had lights which cycled through the rainbow spectrum. A bit like Carly’s water feature in her current rental home which would otherwise have to connection to water. Carly wonders about this recent obsession of cycling lights through the rainbow spectrum. Her old car radio did the same. Bizarre she thought.

The only other connection to water in her current rental house is the automatic atomiser. This house was clearly built by very fire averse architects. The smoke alarms go off before you even put the bread in the toaster. Really far too sensitive and the scream it makes is something else. And in addition, there is this system in the kitchen set to drench everything. Carly knows that more damage is done by water to put out fires. Her son was home cooking roast potatoes but clearly things got too smoky. These atomisers behave a bit like daleks with flashing lights and spray vast amounts of water at head height all over the kitchen. Carly and her son had to fuse the whole house to turn this system off. Part of the problem was that Carly insisted she knew where the boiler was. But she confused it with the hot water tank. They do look similar, Carly muses and forgives herself this temporary aberration of knowledge! Carly is trying to be kinder to herself and only admonish herself for really serious misdemeanours. Luckily this atomiser system is now deactivated until the engineer comes round to reset it. But who is going to let the engineer know? Certainly not Carly. Nor her son. One internal tropical storm is quite enough.

Carly also has to sell her home too. She makes the house really attractive. Everything is put away. It looks homely but without clutter. Marie Kondo who wrote “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying” would be so proud of Carly. She takes photos of how she wants it to be kept looking so that everyone knows the baseline. Also, when an appointment is booked, there is coffee roasting and bread baking. She has a large stash in the freezer of those half-baked rolls. She even gets someone to take the dogs out when Nathan, the estate agent, brings round potential buyers. She didn’t want to put off people who are scared of dogs. They always say they are allergic. But when these people come round and are fine with her cats. Carly knows that they aren’t the allergic type as cats are much more allergenic than dogs. Just scaredy cats! Funny word for dog phobic people.

One afternoon Carly is having a bath. This is special and unusual. Carly makes the bathroom smell nice with candles and incense. She puts rejuvenating salts in the bath and eases herself into the hot and comforting water. She tries so hard to relax. She empties all thoughts out of her head like she has been taught in her mindfulness training. She breathes deeply and slowly. She really does try hard but after five minutes she is bored. So, she gets up, plays some music and does shaking in the bath. She has learnt to do this on a course. She shakes away in time to the music. She is in a trance jigging up and down in the bathtub. Thump thump thump. Yes, she can carry this on for much longer than lying in the bath trying to be mindful. It is good to be using up this energy in a productive way. She starts doing some shouting too. Ahhhhhhh. Oooooooooh. Grrrrrrrrrr. She did that on the same course. But she can’t be too loud as there are the neighbours to consider.

Being Carly, she can’t really keep this shaking up too long as she gets bored of that too. So, she gets out of the bath. During her jigging she thinks maybe she heard her daughter Boo return home. With her towel wrapped round her she dashes up to Boo’s bedroom. Carly knows Boo will be in bed. She has been a mother to teenagers for nearly a decade now. This is the place they go. Unless they are eating or showering or going to the toilet. Everything else is done in bed. Carly enters Boo’s bedroom, but she cannot see her. Boo is under the duvet cover. Carly thinks this is unusual even for a teenager as it is mid-afternoon. Boo is hiding. Then Boo talks from under the duvet. She admonishes Carly for having sex in the bathroom with the estate agent Nathan. “For real?” thinks Carly who cannot decide which is more ridiculous. Having sex in the bath or having sex with an estate agent. Boo then pulled her trump card and said that Nathan wasn’t actually bad looking.

Carly does eventually sell this house; Nathan is worth his weight in salt – she just cannot allow it in gold! She will always be contemptuous of estate agents. Even good-looking ones. Carly considers her next move. She buys a flat which overlooks a reservoir, has a veranda and is part of a large development so she can always meet new people which is very important for an extreme extrovert like Carly. It has a concierge to deal with her online shopping obsession. It also complies with the now very stringent cladding laws. But most importantly it only has one bedroom. Her children are now adults as they repeatedly remind her. They forever moan when they claim she is “helicoptering” them. So now with this new flat she is promoting their independence. They can of course choose to live with their father.

Carly has done an online course about the five stages of grief; anger, denial, bargaining, sadness and acceptance. Carly is very worried about being angry. Carly has been worried about that for years. So instead, she is miserable. Really miserable. Crying all the time. Her face is puffy like a puffer fish.

She tries specially formulated skin creams, but they don’t help. Sharon at work says these anti-aging skin creams have no evidence they work. But she would say this as she does Botox injections to help aging skin look lush again. Carly feels she has cried so much she has run out of sadness. She thinks she can get closure for her grief. She thinks that the five stages of grief are artificial, and she doesn’t need to be angry. She is very worried about what she will be like if she is angry. Maybe she will never stop being angry. It will be overwhelming for everyone. It is more acceptable in society to be sad. It is not good to be bad (angry) or mad (overly sad with voices).

So, Carly starts a course of therapy to help her grieve for her very long marriage that ended. She wants her therapist to help her deal with her sadness. Her therapist tells her she must get angry. Carly is angry with her therapist for telling her to get angry. Instead, they move onto what Carly’s ideal new partner would be like. Carly considers this in her usual high-energy, dedicated and organised fashion. She reads her list of 19 key attributes in alphabetical order. Carly’s therapist suggests that she might never find a partner with such a long list of requirements.

Carly agrees and hones her list to only two. Carly is happy as these are all prime numbers. She explains that nineteen minus seventeen equals two. Her therapist pulls a face, but Carly explains that she loves numbers. So much so, that her daughter thinks that Carly is autistic. But Carly has already just diagnosed herself with ADHD and she cannot add to this burden of additional diagnoses. Eventually, it is time for Carly to stop her course of therapy. As predicted, Carly and her therapist talk about endings. Will Carly be able to manage without her therapist? Carly believes so. She managed before she started therapy, so why shouldn’t she afterwards? Her therapist isn’t so sure. The question is who really needs the therapy to continue?

Carly has been on a course about anger. This was particularly interesting. It was a residential course using cognitive, cathartic, ritualistic and ceremonial elements. It was all-encompassing. Unsurprising, Carly cried a lot. Carly learnt that you need a degree of anger for your energy levels, your lifeforce, your mojo. Anger is a force that can be used for good and to promote change. Now Carly is prepared to get angry so she can feel alive and purposeful. She can get really angry if she applies herself. This has been revelatory for Carly. She can be angry, but it can be contained and not dangerous. Rarrrrrrrggghhhhhhhhh growled Carly. But where can you actually go to do this getting angry business? You just cannot open your mouth and roar anywhere you fancy.

So, Carly chatted to others about how they deal with their anger. It seems that lots of people like to shout and get angry but don’t advertise this about themselves. One man told her that he shouts his head off in his car when he is driving up the motorway. Carly thinks this is a good plan. She once went on a road traffic awareness course. It was probably the only course she went on she can say truly changed her behaviour. Well, a bit, as she has got a couple of speeding tickets since. On that course, she learnt that country road driving was the most dangerous and motorway the least. Therefore, next time she is on a motorway she will also shout her head off and know she and others are pretty safe with her driving in this state. It needs to be a long enough drive for Carly to work herself up. A five mile stretch between two junctions isn’t long enough to get in the right frame of mind.

Her cousin in New York says that she yells as loud as she dares when the subway train comes in the station. She stands at the front of the platform, waits for the train to just pass her so the driver doesn’t get worried and then she hollers as loud as she can. Sometimes she does it with her teenage sons. They all thoroughly enjoy this. Carly is not sure this could work on the London Tube. English people are really much more uptight.

When Carly is by the sea, she can put on one of those full-face breathing masks on and bellow as much as she likes when she swims out. She is sure the fish won’t mind. She is not even sure fish can hear? But Carly does look like something from another planet and the whole thing feels weird and ghoulish. However, Carly is creative. She is a doctor. She knows that when you ask to see a child’s throat, you can tell them to roar like a lion to get a good view of the tonsils. She demonstrates with a moderately loud ahhhhrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr and then she and the child take it in turns to really growl getting louder and louder. At least five times each. Only Carly knows why they are doing this. The child thinks it is a game. The parents think it is part of the examination. Only Carly knows it is for her benefit alone. These children have constipation or flat feet. The staff outside sigh. They say – well that Carly – she is something else.

Carly thinks about how to deal with denial and bargaining. Maybe she can enrol on a joint course for these aspects of grief? Carly goes off to investigate. She hopes she will be successful in her quest as this might help stave off her grief. 

Carly does get very sad when her cats die. This picture is here as she has enough in her Carly adores cats story and here is a good place to put this drawing. As her dad always used to say. “Waste not, want not”. Then he would add. “Pick your nose and eat it”. Her mum was very disgruntled about that addition. Carly doesn’t eat bogies anymore, thankfully.