The Match

'I am calling you from Malmo', Jeff said the other day. ' I am watching a hockey match on Millie'.
Millie is his sweet, overweight black Cocker Spaniel.

I admitted to being confused. Only a day ago he had called me from his condo here in Puerto Vallarta and never mentioned a word about going to watch a match in Malmo.

It turned out that he was watching a game that took place in Malmo; the 'on Millie ' part I never quite understood. The closest I got to getting it was that he was taking Millie for some exercise which consisted of him sitting on a chair watching the game on his smart phone whilst Millie was roaming around in the flowerbeds of the condo green area.

'Malmo is in Sweden'  he told me.
I assured him I was aware of that fact.

'It is close to the whatchamacallit...Koppenhaken' he said.
Again I assured him that I knew it was close to Copenhagen.

'I can't remember if I have been there' he said and this time, through gritted teeth, I told him he would have remembered if he had ever been there.

'Anyway' he said, ' I just wanted you to know that Canada is playing against the US'.

And this left me one big gaping question mark. I do not care for sports and the sports I care less than less for must be hockey for its brutality and cricket for its absolutely non understandable rules, so I have no idea why he thought he had to share this little bit of hockey information with me, aside from the lesson about Malmo .

But I am a good person so listened till I had a very sudden and very urgent thing to do and hastily bid him a good day and then, drew several deep breaths to restore my inner calm. Sort of. Till next time he calls to tell something I have very little interest in.

And I will listen again because maybe one day I will be the person in need of a friendly ear and then it will be payback time.

I, of course, can always vent my spleen on my blog.  Like now.  And it works fine.

Nasty stuff

Some years ago I had what turned out to be an attack of dengue fever. 
Apparently just a mild attack; the doctor I checked with was not that impressed and assured me that in a week--seven days--all would be well. In the meantime to drink lots of fluids and take tablets for the headaches.

And not to be too disturbed by the rashes that would appear at the end of the time.

All went as the doctor predicted, even the rashes, and I forgot all about it
till last night when I had an occurrence of what felt very much like the first attack of the dengue.

Yikes and double yikes.

The shakes and the sweats and the headaches and the not being able to get warm
all that

The only solution I could think of was to put a lot of blankets on my bed and try and get some sleep.
And the shakes did stop until I had to get up and pee. Yowsi but that was awkward.  I was shaking so badly that I was peeing all over the place. Good thing I was outside. 

And now, after a miserable night with stupid, repetitive dreams and thunderous headaches, I found a couple of Advils ( I take very few pills ) and eventually got rid of the headaches.

Now I worry if I will have another attack tonight because I have no more Advils.

Well, I shall think positive thoughts and hope that will not happen.

So what makes a man a man ?

The second part of Royal Jewels dealt with the Russians and the British.
Of the Russians one family was pointed out to be even richer than the Romanovs, the ruling family, namely the Yusopovs.

The last of the Yusopovs, Felix, heir to endless wealth, went to school in the UK and France. He liked to dress in female clothing and in Paris even went to the opera in drag.

He is discreetly described as bi-sexual, a term that did not exist when he was young.

He, and some friends of his, were the young officers who took upon themselves to kill the peasant faith healer Rasputin who, according to many, had gained an enormous influence over the Tsarina and hence the Tsar.

He, the poofter who dressed up in women's clothing, did rid Russia of a scourge. It did not last long as the revolution came and other scourges, even worse, befell Russia.

It is intriguing to look at Russia today where the kind of person who so bravely tried to save her, is now deemed a criminal and can be put in jail for showing affection for a person of the same sex.

Maybe Putin, of peasant stock himself, regrets the killing of the peasant faith healer by one of 'them'.

Who knows.

My notebook

next to my computer I keep scraps of paper and a notebook. Scraps for 'whatevers', the notebook for more serious things like qoutes and thoughts.

I came across this in an article about something I don't recall, but I jotted down the quote.

Verba Volant, Scripta Manent.

It was translated as :   Spoken words fly away, but the written ones stay.

I rather liked it.

A lttle royal ?

I was on Youtube looking for the names of some spectacular dancers I had just seen the other night dance the Don Q pas de deux on my arts channel.

I found them and in my search got intrigued by a video about Royal Jewels ( Kongelige Juveler ) which I had never seen before and since today is one of the rare and miserable grey days with rain and leaden skies that one was so used to living in Seattle, I decided to watch and I had a wonderful morning looking at sparklies and learning about their history.

The queen of Denmark, Margrethe II, when interviewed, said about the jewels
'we don't measure them in carats; we measure them in centuries '.

I guess she has a particular right to say that as her family has ruled Denmark for more than ten centuries.

And then I read some of the comments ( not always a good thing to do ) and found the usual complaints about royalty and their existence.

To this rant I can only ask why, if one feels this way about roaylty, would anyone watch an hour long video specifically dealing with royals and their jewels. Why ?

I loathe bullfight and I would no more seek out videos about this gory spectacle than I would go to one.  But they are there and one can only hope that they will die out for lack of interest.

In the meantime I had a lovely morning being a little royal.  And the dreary morning just sped by, and that was an added bonus.

Do People Read Me ?

I don't even know if people read me and, in the final analysis, it is only part of the joy of blogging.
I love writing;  I love clarifying my mostly muddy thoughts, and putting word down does just that...clarifies.

So here I am after a long while and I like being back.
Many thoughts and many posts.

I am here.

And so it is Xmas.  
Well, technically the big day is over, presents have been shared, disappointments hidden and now we take a deep breath and gird our loins and get ready for ......
New Year.

I don't much care for Xmas and I care even less for New Year, the time when most people get all snivelly and sentimental and drunk and live to regret it the next day.

I have been there and I would most likely be there again if I lived closer to civilization and not in a house on a hill in a wood many miles from any signs of life. Well not entirely true. There is the village at the bottom of my hill and the people there can be very noisy when called for. As I am sure they will be for New Year's celebration.

Bette Davies in the movie 'All About Eve' says, sitting in cab driving from a friend's house to the train station to get to New York for her performance that night, says that 'the house in the country' is one thing she will never understand.

to paraphrase her totally, I say that the need for noise, particularly around new year, is a thing I do not understand.....nor like.

And like Bette I roll my eyes and know, just know, that I am right and the rest of the world so utterly and definitely wrong.

It feels good to be right.

Not a bad way to start the new year......being right.