Mitchell's Musings

I bought a new bin.  Not the most interesting of introductions to our blog conversation & not before time according to my Mother, but there it is. Every time, I walk past the bloody thing the lid flies open. It's one of the automated ones you see, all you need to do is walk past it & the lid flies open. I bought this bloody thing because I had  hoped it would help me to finally gain at least the impression of control of  the chaos that is my kitchen. In reality all that has  happened is that it has introduced another new form of anarchy that I am not ready for.   The opening and closing of the bin lid happens in a way that I don't understand and have no control of.  All I need to do is walk past it in the vaguest way and the lid flies open in a very random & aggressive fashion reminiscent of the till in Arkwright's Store. I am reasonably certain that my younger son finds this hilarious as he breezes through the house lively and in full cont...

Today's photo is of an item that every time I look at it I feel again some of the feelings I felt at the end of the Great North Run in 2014.  I've never been sporty, in fact I have always had a tendency to avoid it. Probably one of those issues that I have an unconscious chip on my shoulder about. As a child I was very clumsy and uncoordinated so sports were difficult and therefore avoided.  But, I have always thought that it's never good to allow the things that scare you or that you find difficult to prevent you from trying to achieve something. Maybe I'm just stubborn. The backdrop to to my involvement in the Great North Run that year was that some close friends were in the process of raising a huge amount of money for the RNLI. The friends I’m talking about are serious runners and have been very successful in taking part in many different events including the London marathon & have raised a lot of money in the process over the years. I began thinking that I real...

Apparently, a good tale grows with the telling; this is especially true of me with my memories.  After all I do love a good story. One of my favourites is the tale I tell, when I explain to people how I met my oldest friend.  It is a good story and it contains the kind of elements that would illicit the response I tend to be looking for.   The first walk to the new school, the nervousness of being the new kid in class, the discomfort of new school clothes, meeting my new teacher, an argument with the annoying kid in class, who quickly became my best friend.    It is a nice whimsical story, but these days, if I am honest I have no idea if its true or not. This is because I was seven at the time & I have altered it many times since over the years.   I suspect Chris does not know either, but I know that his version of events will differ from mine.   It is well known that our memories are not particularly good.   The truth is, we all do this kind ...

  I have struggled to write recently. There's nothing unusual in this. But I suppose in the circumstances that we're in it's happening more to us all in many ways.  It was helpful then that I have my friend Donna to bully me. She will no doubt claim that I was merely being "encouraged" to get my rear end in gear and produce something. I'm not fooled, but the point was well taken.  To ease my way back into things I thought I would revert back to the familiar.  This is my grandfather's Blowtorch, and it was one of the gifts that was passed on to me by my Aunt and my Mother. Most of the time it sits on a shelf in my living room and it has become another one of those curios that evoke fond memories. This struck me as odd when I thought about it properly, because I never actually saw my grandfather use it. So I have no real memory of it. It was just one of the items in the tool chest when it was given to me. In real terms it looks like what it is. An old tool t...

This is my favourite mug. It’s the one that I always choose in preference to the other mugs in the cupboard.  The message on the side of it, now long gone used to read “Best Mum in the World” How I managed to attain this title remains shrouded in mystery, I don’t know whose idea it was, but there are a number of candidates upon whom suspicion naturally falls.  But to me the fact that I can be considered to be the best Mum in the world shows the kind of inclusiveness that really appeals to me. It was bought for me as a Mother’s Day gift several years ago now by some of my Son’s friends.  I smile at it every time I see it, which is several times per day. It’s the one I look for, I’m convinced that coffee & tea both taste better in this mug.   Maybe I am imagining this, but I am going with it.  This is the power of a simple thing to bring such joy, even if it’s only in coffee sized doses. The point is I drink a lot of  coffee and the kids that “adopte...

“Fugit Inreparabile Tempus” - It Escapes, Irretrievable Time" - Virgil, The Georgics. Time truly is one of the only really finite resources. We all lose & gain so much during our life in so many ways.  For example I can’t easily count how many jobs I have had or how many I have lost.  By the last count though I'm already on my fifth career change having switched paths on so many occasions before.  You can’t delay it, slow it, stop it, pause it, start again or buy it back. Ok, so far so obvious, get to the point. A lot of the time the idiom “Tempus Fugit” seems to be employed to exhort us not to waste our time, but to use it productively.  The internet and the written press is full of “influencers” and self-appointed gurus. They all seem to have a good idea about the best ways for us to spend our time, how we can use it better or how lazy we're being by not using it as they say we should be. They are also usually selling something. We all appear to have our consum...

Every now and again people notice that I frequently wear odd socks.  Most of the time people who comment on it put it down to it being one of Mitchell's whimsical ways. An eccentricity that proves how ‘off the wall’ I can be at times. And this is not wrong, but as with many things there are deeper reasons behind why I wear odd socks. And today I will discuss them. In one of my earlier posts (Stuff 6 - Empty Cardboard Tube) I discussed how over the years I have made peace with my struggles with Dyspraxia and Dyslexia. I didn't expect my thoughts on this to raise any particular reaction, because I have been discussing this at length with my family and friends for many years now. So for me at times it can seem like an old issue. I'm lucky in that I am surrounded by people who understand it and accept me as I am.  If I'm honest I suppose I'm tending to take the view that the things that I'm writing are actually a form of narcissism, because essentially it's just...