Certainty

There is a famous and oft-quoted and paraphrased bon mot which has been attributed to Benjamin Franklin, the US statesman and former president.

Many people have since added a third option; human stupidity, housework, etc etc...

Some time ago, I was talking with Julie about this blog and the Gems she comes out with. Gradually coming to terms with the fact that most people are on her side (including me!), Julie is sort of enjoying the notoriety she has in our currently small audience.

We have mentioned before that my notes are referred to as 'damning evidence that could be used in a court of law' - or something very similar - but this time, Julie raised the possibility of a legacy.

"If I died," she said, "would people remember me?"
I replied that while I hoped that day lies long into the future, I believed strongly that she would.

Obviously, Julie meant 'posthumous success', but it struck me as being accidentally very deep.

The bawdiest banisters

Well, it's a handrail, really.

My mother has trouble getting around now, and got a handyman in to fit a handrail on the wall side of her stairs to go with the banister and rail on the other side. Since I live half the country away, it's not that often that I get to visit, so my sister tends to do what she can - considering she has her own life to run too.

On one of the times both my sister and myself were visiting, I needed to go upstairs for something or other. On one step, I stumbled slightly and snatched at the new handrail for support.

Which moved.

Wait, what?

I took hold of the rail again and pushed lightly against it. I hadn't imagined it, the rail did move. I looked closely and realised that the bastard cowboy who had fitted it had only done the minimum possible. Certainly not enough for someone who relies on sturdy supports.

I went to my sister and showed her the problem. If you were shocked at my use of the term 'bastard cowboy' above, you definitely don't want to know what my sister spat out. Put it this way, it was more venomous than the nastiest of Australian creatures, and more virulent than the bubonic plague.

My little sister has such a genteel soul.

We discussed what needed to be done. Getting a proper professional in, for a start. I'd have done it, but I'm no use when it comes to DIY. I can put up a shelf, but you'd be unwise to load it up too much. For the moment, though, we couldn't do much, as it was the weekend, and I had to get home.

This was my suggestion:

Yeah. Sure, I gave her possibly the best feed line ever, but you know that comment of mine about my little sister being a delicate soul?
Forget it.

Universally unique

Once in a while, I feel compelled to ask Julie how she manages to come up with all the stuff she does. As I have said before, on numerous occasions, it's not as though she is lacking in intelligence. There just seems to be another aspect to my wife that is devoted to straying from the mundane, boring pathways of general conversation.

Sometimes, the reply is a simple, "I dunno", but there are other times when the reply itself becomes another Gem.
Usually, this will take the form of another baffling statement, or Julie will be in something of a whimsical frame of mind and play the 'silly card' for all its worth.

However, there are occasions where Julie will turn out to be prime philosopher material. I imagine it's the unique world view she has.

A brush with litigation

A quiet Sunday afternoon. The weather is dry but chilly and the wind isn't helping. Julie has to go to work in a couple of hours' time, so it's not worth going anywhere.
Sat in the front room, we have the gas fire going. However, since our house isn't what you could call well-insulated, we also have blankets over our legs. In addition to this, we are both drinking tea, in an attempt to warm up from the inside out. It's working, but only just.

I'm bunched up in my armchair, trying but failing to read a Philippa Gregory novel for my book club. If we have to read another novel set in the Tudor period, I'm going to cause serious harm to someone.
Julie, in her armchair, is poring over a sudoku puzzle, but she's getting bored. It doesn't help the chill of the room is getting to her, and she's shifting constantly beneath her blanket. Every now and then, Julie settles down and fills in another number or two on the grid, but then breaks off and stares vacantly out of the window.

There was a CD playing, some Seth Lakeman, but the album finished a while ago and neither of us can be bothered to get up and change or replay the disc. There is a hum coming from the compact disc player, but other than that, there is no sound in the room, apart from the occasion papery rustle from a book.

Into this comparative silence, Julie clears her throat and speaks.

(Dulux, obviously, being the paint manufacturer)

Uh... really? Well, thanks for letting me know...

Deep doors

Generally, the main theme of this blog is one of gentle laughter at my wife's funny ways of discussing whatever happens to be on her mind. That's not to say, however, that she isn't capable of other 'mental settings'. Check, for instance, those posts I have tagged as 'zingers', 'win' and - just to prove that I'm not perfect - those labelled 'Spike's Slips'.
Not everything has to be about being witty, scathing or simply dappy, though. Julie and me do like to have sensible conversations, intelligent arguments and heartfelt discussions. Admittedly, they do often end up taking a verbal stumble, but the point remains that we do try our best.

Take yesterday. Sunday afternoon, sat in armchairs and reading. Occasionally looking out at the grotty weather and drinking tea. Julie put her book down and, putting her head to one side slightly, stared into space. After a moment, I asked her what she was thinking about...

That one deserved a smile and a hug.