I have just about had one of those occasions.
I finally ran out of ideas and thoughts on what to post. Normally I would just walk away and come back when I was good and ready to do another posting. But not this time around. I was determined to remain seated on my bum until I finally managed to squeeze something out. I have such a busy schedule right now and, uncharacteristically, I am now beginning to feel the heat. It all started on a whim, but this blogging thing should have been rather easy for me.
After all, I have decided to post thoughts and tidbits from my life rather randomly and in no particular order. I went for a walk, not a long one, mind you, just one of those very short walks around the block. It was deliberate and designed to distract me from my preoccupations here. But, of course, I still needed to climb into my jeep to get down to the mall. I accordingly did this. It was a twelve minute drive, more or less; the road here is fairly open. By the time you get to town, the busy mid-morning traffic has already picked up. So, after a few characteristic zips (I’m very impatient behind the wheel), I slipped into the mall’s parking lot. I paid the fee and proceeded to take my stroll around the mall.
I stopped at the local coffee shop and partook of my usually strong brew of black filter coffee. I perused the shop’s papers along with my own correspondence which I brought with me. I did a few mark-ups here and there, made a few corrections and emendations and then decided that my eyes had had its fill. I encountered no less than three coffee shop acquaintances and patiently bided my time with them. A rather fat man wanted to grab the Times and bury himself in its crossword puzzles. He passed a remark or two about what had been happening in the House of Commons lately, politely enquiring whether any of the debates were having an impact on my business. I remarked cursorily that it had not.
I also remarked that I was no longer interested. Conversation ended abruptly. Now, this old lady is rather delightful, in my opinion. If I had her intellect and wisdom, I could easily settle down with her as a housemate. But, like me, she is as independent as they come and particularly enjoys being on her own. She lives in a country cottage just above the town. Every morning she takes a brisk walk into town to take her daily breakfast of a freshly baked muffin without condiments. Occasionally, she would also pop around in the afternoon and feast on a rather large quiche.
Amazingly, this old lady is nearing ninety. On appearance, one would not have guessed. But once you begin to engage with this wise and patient woman, you know that her words give her age away. I say that she is patient because she is always so with me. Like me, she generally prefers to keep to herself and be alone with her thoughts. She is the epitome of contentment until I proceed to speak with her. For me, these moments are rare, because there are few people on this earth who excite me. I am in awe of such people, and because I rarely encounter them, I can barely contain my excitement.
Finally, a handsome elderly gentleman seated himself at my table. He needn’t have asked because we have been acquainted for some years. He is a retired chef and these days barely survives on his government and disability pensions. He has a severe heart condition. He had another one of those attacks late last year. He politely apologized for not being able to buy me a cuppa; he had to attend to some groceries for his small flat in the town. Well, as if he had to ask. After all, I can well afford it. Of course, I never reciprocate his gentlemanly ways of chivalry. This has something to do with my inherent distaste for these notions.
He could not contain his excitement about the upcoming weekend’s football matches in spite of his team’s current doom and gloom. He is a lifelong Aston Villa supporter, by the way. I, of course, have no interest in sport other than the egalitarian hunting adventures I am sometimes invited to. This course of action is blatantly hypocritical on my part because while on the one hand I am showing off my prowess on horseback, galloping after the bloodhounds, on the other hand, out of sight of these fine gentlemen, I am representing a few NGOs who are vigorously campaigning on behalf of the rights of all animals. How crooked is that? But, where they get the money to do this is not my concern, they pay me rather well, and on time to boot.
As they say, money speaks. Sometimes it only whispers, but I hear the rustle of notes loudly enough to take note. Anyway, said chef also has a curious interest in the Americans’ election year. Before dismissing this subject, I had to put in my prophetic whisper as to who I believe will win the elections later this year. I have no interest in these shenanigans other than how much it may affect my purse strings. Politely, as always, he left my table.
I do not have the answer at my fingertips, after all, I am not a wordsmith of note, but I think I just answered my enquiry as to how one rids one’s self of writer’s block.