I like. I don’t. I am. Me. Who?

I like the morning. I dislike the afternoon.  I like to wake up early in the mornings, even on weekends.

I like sleeping with the curtains open so I can see outside when I wake up. I like the first full body stretch of the day. I dislike lights on in the house in the daytime. I like the moon and a clear night sky.

I like afternoon naps. I like being so tired that I can’t keep my eyes open. As long as it’s at a time when sleep is appropriate. And not dangerous.

I like running in the rain. I like pushing myself further each time. I like the dull ache of my muscles in the days after exercise. I like showers. Not baths.

I like it when my cats purr, and the little “brrrrt” noise they make when I’ve disturbed them from their sleep.

I like whisky. Neat. Always neat. Single Malt. I like red wine over white. I like it when I go to the bar of a pub and my drink is poured without the need to ask for it. That’s familiarity.

I like it when friends know how I take my coffee without needing to ask me. That’s also familiarity. I know that I make this awkward for my friends because I alternate between black coffee, and white coffee. Sometimes with sugar, sometimes without.

I like black tea, but I’ll only ever drink tea with milk in if I’m ill. Then I like sweet weak tea. Not milky. Weak. There’s a difference.

I like it when friends text me for no other reason than just to say hello, or how are you?. I like that they’re thinking of me when they don’t have to. I dislike it when I don’t get replies to texts I’ve sent. Especially if I’ve asked a question. Although I know I’m guilty of that myself.

I like a plan as long as it’s not a definite plan.  I like last-minute decisions. Usually made by someone else. I don’t make bad decisions, but I’m not good at making any decisions. I can’t make lists, but I admire people who can. I can be on time when I need to be, but more often than not, I’m late. Sometimes through choice. Maybe always through choice.

I like that I still have strong friendships from school in my adult life. I now understand the depth of childhood friendships. I know I didn’t appreciate that when they were formed all those years ago.

I like mashed parsnip. Ridiculous considering I loathe potatoes cooked that way. I detest them so much, that I can’t bring myself to write the words together. I like that people who know this about me avoid saying it. The thought of it repulses me. Maybe it’s a phobia. Either way it’s weird.

One of my favourite childhood books is ‘The Clown of God’. Truly amazing book, but clowns now unnerve me. The film ‘IT’ is to blame for that. Or rather Pennywise is to blame for that. Ultimately Stephen King is to blame for that.

I like black & white films. Especially ‘Goodbye Mr Chips’. I dislike horror films. I still re-read all my Roald Dahl books. I like reading books I read as a child. I like reading new books.

I like the smell of petrol but I dislike putting petrol in my car. I like the smell of a pipe and the noise of a drink being poured. I like the noise of gravel crunching. I dislike whistling and the noise of metal scraping against metal. I like open fires especially when they crack and pop.

I like playing with the magnetic poetry words my friends have on their fridge in their house. I like that those friends feel like my family.

I like Thursday night tea with my parents, and Sunday dinners at their house when everyone is there. Especially in the summer. I like playing in the garden afterwards with my niece and nephew. I like watching them grow up. I dislike the speed at which that is happening.

I like coincidences. I like serendipity. I like things I can’t explain. I dislike not being able to explain them. If only to myself. I like instinct. Gut instinct. I’m learning to trust mine more.

I like it when I solve a problem I had, or someone else’s for them. I like learning something new. I like trying something new. I like creating. I like creating memories and then cherishing them.

I like history. I like looking at really old photos of my family despite not knowing who most of them are. I like hearing stories about them. I like trying to imagine the world they lived in, and what they’d think of mine.

I like that I can usually acknowledge my faults. But I dislike them. All of them. I dislike that I don’t always see my strengths. I like the fact that those close to me can see them when I can’t.

If the wind changes, you’ll have an apple tree growing in your stomach

I’ve already mentioned in an earlier post that I believed there was a lucky boy in Swansea who collected footballs when I was younger, so it got me thinking about other things I believed as a child.

I’ve split it into two sections. Lies I was told as a child that I believed, and explanations I conjured up in my own mind and thought them to be true.

Lies I was told that I believed. Why wouldn’t I?

“If the wind changes, you’ll stay like that”.  Believed it.

“If you eat apple pips, an apple tree will start to grow in your stomach. Believed it.

“Thunder is just God playing the drums”. Believed it.

“If you stand on your head all the blood in your body will fill your brain”. Believed it.

“I’ve got your nose”. Believed it. In fact, some uncle of mine who wasn’t really an uncle, just someone I called uncle has still got my nose.

“I’ve just heard on the news that all the strawberry opal fruits have got poison in them for girls so you’d better give me yours”. My brother told me that one. Believed it.

There are a lot more I’m sure, but I want to move on to ideas and logical explanations I had for things in my childhood mind.

A mind when it was easier to think, yet harder to understand.

A mind before Scepticism set up camp there, met Cynicism, married her, then she moved in too, giving birth to Doubt, Suspicion and Knowledge not long after.

Everything I believed made sense at the time, and seemed the only reasonable, plausible explanation.

Where babies come from

When I overheard conversations like “So and so has had their baby, is was 6 pound 4″…. I used to think that Mammys and Daddys had gone up to Heaven at night to choose their baby and had paid £6.04 for it. I thought Heaven was littered with babies with price tags on them, and you just went up, chose which one you wanted, paid for it and came back down. A simple purchase from God. Once you’d paid for it, it was yours to keep. Forever. I also thought that Heaven looked like my attic because whenever I heard anyone talk about it, they always pointed upwards and gave the impression it was really high up. I knew the sky was high up, but I was more savvy than to think you get babies from the sky! The next highest thing I knew was my attic, so I just presumed that Heaven was everyone’s attic.

Waving or flashing your lights at drivers to say thank you.

Whenever we went on a car journey, I was always amazed at how my Dad always seemed to know where we were going. At the time, my world consisted of my house, in my street. I didn’t know how to get anywhere other than to the top of my road. I used to get quite scared that someday when I grew up, I’d be expected to know how to get to places. What if I got lost?… But then I used to think it’s OK because I’ll know plenty of people everywhere I go, just like my Dad does.

The etiquette of driving is if someone lets you out, or you give way to someone, you or they give a little wave, or a little flash of the lights to say thank you. Just a little grateful acknowledgement. Now, as an adult, this really annoys me when people don’t! As a child when this used to happen, I thought that my Dad had seen someone he knew, because you only wave to people you know. You’re not supposed to speak to strangers, so therefore you’re not supposed to wave to strangers either, or flash your lights at them. You only wave to people you know. I was amazed that my Dad knew so many people wherever we went.

 

Clouds

I  believed that planes could land on clouds, and that’s where people went on holidays. That’s why they always came back with a tan, because they’d been closer to the sun.

The nit nurse

When the nit nurse used to come to school, pull your ribbons and hair slides out and run her horrible aged hands through your hair until she’d made you cry and you couldn’t get a comb through it, I used to think she was evil. Now as an adult, I understand. The nit nurse was indeed evil. But I also believed if a child had eggs in their hair it meant that in a few days they’d hatch. Once they’d hatched they’d have birds nesting and flying around their hair. I thought that would be brilliant.

I’m sure there are a lot more, and I’m hoping this post instigates some childhood memories for those who read it. What crazy things were you told as a child, and what did your wonderfully imaginative, innocent, naive childhood mind believe?

Trying to remember the colour of your underwear can boost your memory… Maybe..

Forget browsing the internet, Facebook and wandering around the office gossiping. Many hours in the working day can be lost across the world when people try to remember what colour underwear they’ve put on that day…

A simple subconscious task from the morning can become a personal memory game for the afternoon..

I’m not saying this happens to me everyday, but when it does, it’s usually after lunch when I’m at my least productive.

I’m at my desk, attempting to concentrate but then the mind starts to wander.

What shall I have for tea tonight? Shall I go to the gym? Do I need milk? That coffee stain on my desk looks a bit like an albatross if you look at it sideways…

Suddenly I can find myself thinking  ‘what colour underwear did I put on this morning?‘…..

Why can’t I remember?

Try and remember brain… TRY!

If you’re lucky your boss will walk past at this point and think ‘Wow, now that’s a face of concentration’.

Come on brain! THINK! It’s not that difficult… You were the one who put them on…

You could attempt a sneaky peak, but if you’re unlucky,  it will be at that point your boss walks past and sees you with your knicker elastic hanging out…..

The longest I’ve gone before I’ve remembered or given up is about 9 minutes.

Either way – it’s off to the toilets to check for certain.

Try and wait until the toilets are empty. There is something quite unnerving about hearing ‘Ahhh of course! coming from the cubicle next to you, and then seeing someone emerge with a rather ‘pleased with themselves’ look on their face.

Try it… next time your mind starts to wander, do something to boost your memory and play the underwear game…

I suppose the only people this wouldn’t apply to, are those who prefer ‘Going commando‘…. Or as my Dad once mistakenly called it ‘Going Columbo‘….

That amused me for days.