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Wednesday 22 April 2020

...in a most delightful way

It's not fear, rather a heightened awareness just below the surface. Dormant for much of the day but easily triggered. Typically the sight of two people, awkwardly and distantly disposed, voices slightly raised, trying to chat normally yet ending up self-conscious. Ah yes, you say, I know why.

Skyping with our daughters the meteor shower is mentioned. We go out into the back garden (US: yard) and imagine occasional flashes in the darkening sky. Decide to come out fifteen minutes later when it will be truly nighttime. The flashes - if they are occurring - remain inconclusive. But we're out there in our PJs, dressing gowns and slippers. Would we have done this if it hadn't been for... well, you know, the surrounding perturbations?

People are dying, the Ten O'Clock News says so, and I'm reminded of funerals. How they became a subject of detestation when we lived in the US. Cost, of course, but also an apparent conspiracy to ensure the cost remained high. Coffins (US: caskets) at unbelievable sums. A regulation to surround the interred box in a sort of concrete coffer dam. Arch solemnity.

A life insurance company offered us free will-creation and we mutually agreed to "the cheapest possible" funeral. But how about dropping off the unneeded rubbish at some medical school? Might we be too old for the anatomy students?

Death can be expressed mathematically and that’s amusing. Advanced age? Check. Underlying condition? Does bronchiectasis count? Will I make 2021? Hey! We’ve cancelled the villa rental in July, transferred the deposit to next year. I don’t fancy snuffing it without speaking French again.

Suddenly it’s personal. But a Wild Bill's IPA (sold out at Aldi, alas) will suppress unwanted awareness.

6 comments:

  1. You are correct, the funeral industry in the U.S. is obscene. My husband and I are opting for the cheapest option, too. I imagine they will find a way to overcharge for that, too. I have never had Wild Bill's IPA, but I'm not a fan of IPA. I am intrigued by a “an unashamed American style IPA” brewed in the UK, though. Wild Bill as in Wild Bill Hickok, I assume? He was a fascinating character.

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  2. Colette: I sort of guessed that (about IPA). In the past you've wallowed in malted-milk shakes or some such; no one who likes the one, likes the other. Terribly grown-up, you know.

    As to funerals I had in mind Brahms' Alto Rhapsody for mine, thinking I'd be doing every member of the pathetic handful a favour. It's rare in concert halls but so luscious your eye-lashes would bend under the weight of your emotion. Only 12 minutes long but it requires a full symphony orchestra and a soprano/alto on top of her game. But VR said, "You'd be dead, your choice would almost certainly be ignored." So expect Sibelius Four.

    A long way from Florida but the wine could be the best you've ever tasted. Unless VR puts the mockers on that too.

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  3. Snuffing it without speaking French again, not being fancies, made me Laugh out loud, you're a Riot! Hey, I took the 300 Word Post Challenge... had to see if I could be that Editorial? It triggered my OCD to recount incessantly and rather than Edit I just stopped when I got near 300 Words, including the Salutation, since I wasn't sure if that would Count or not? For some reason such intense Restraint and Discipline of the use of Words made me Anxious, who knew? I became Obsessed with how many Words I was using to try to tell a Story worth Writing, worth Reading? Perhaps I succeeded, perhaps I failed... I just know it was far too intense for Yours Truly my Friend, but Thanks for making me strive for a very contemplative Post. One where the Tsunami that is usually my Stream of Consciousness for Writing, was Dammed up and the Flood Gates weren't opened to spill out of my Head without Thinking, just Writing... which is usually how I Write... and this was way different!

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  4. Oh you remind me that we should probably make our plans for the end. We wanted to find a cemetery that would let us be buried in cardboard boxes so that we can just decompose easily. On the other hand we've thought about asking someone to take our bodies up to some isolated mountain top and leave them there for the vultures to enjoy. Might as well give back to the planet in any productive way we can.

    We like a nice glass or two of wine with dinner. A good California red almost locally grown and made here. Has a way of softening the edges of the world at the end of the day.

    J'espère que vous parlerez français en France l'année prochaine.

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    Replies
    1. robin andrea: Tres gentil, merci mille fois.

      Demain (en effet aujourdhui) je vais exercer (pratiquer?) le chanson francais que j'aime le plus profondément.

      Ca commence avec:

      Allons enfants de la patrie,
      Le jour de gloire est arrive...


      Version par Hector Berlioz.

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  5. Bohemian: I've responded to this on your blog. Mostly autobiographical so I fear there aren't many laughs. I haven't led a funny life, though others have from time to time laughed at me. The reason's my very straight nose, easily my best feature. Come to think of it my life has been wholly nose-centric.

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