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funny phone calls
Posted Jun 14, 2004
The vicar announced from his pulpit that he had an amazing telephone, which recorded the number which had dialed his phone, therefore announcing the said number to his congregation, ah, at last there was a possibility to trace the poor sad soul who had been making anonymous phone calls to a selected few in the congregation, obviously including the vicar himself!!!
Upon this news, the whole congregation rushed home to their guia telefonicas to try and discover the culprit, several even sadder souls with nothing better to do with their time, even found the name and the address of the 82 year old, who was supposedly making the phone calls, ah, but who knows, perhaps someone else had made the calls from the poor old dear,s house, could be, nothing is certain.
You see, here in Tenerife the first two numbers of your telephone tells you which village you are calling from, and, to try and find an english surname amongst a multitude of spanish ones is not so difficult.
Poor soul, anyone feeling the need to make anonymous phone calls must feel very hard done by, or have some enormous problem, and the last thing the person needs is being discovered and made public, especially if they are elderly, where is Christian compassion in this story?
I feel very sad that this person is now a symbol of laughter and ridicule, he or she made a mistake, it,s true, yet felt aggrieved and bitter enough to go to such lengths, no-one amongst the church cared enough to find out why the person felt they had to take such an option.
Lonelyness and rejection drives us all to make wrong decisions at some point in our lives.
Jane
Discuss this Journal entry [5]
Latest reply: Jun 14, 2004
dodgy left knee
Posted Oct 23, 2003
There I was happily making paella Sunday morning, I had loaded it with lots of fresh fish and shellfish, the rice was perfect, thanks to a packet of paella mix containing all the necessary saffron, turmeric etc., that I had included, there it was, done, finished, ready for our lunch later that day.
Of course the kitchen was in total disarray as happens whenever I am cooking, so I thought I must start to clean up, just picked up something to put in the fridge which was 3 paces away from where I was standing, when CRUNCH, CLICK, my left knee suddenly decided to give way, then searing pain, and BANG as my head bashed the tiles as I fell.
My husband rushed to my aid and tried to pull me up, more pain, more terrible than I have ever experienced in my life, far worse than the pains of childbirth, I screamed like I have never screamed before, husband entered a state of panic, then suddenly I felt calm, floating, in control, the pain eased, I felt at peace and calmly and clearly told him to ring for an ambulance, he in his state of nervous tension didn,t know how to do that, so I told him to fetch the neighbour.
Olga, my neighbour rushed into my kitchen, phoning the ambulance on her mobile, as I was laying on the floor I was apologising to her for the terrible state of the kitchen, apologising that I couldn,t get up, then floating, floating the pain no longer present.
She started asking me what I had made for lunch, what were my plans for the rest of the day, as I began to answer her, the pain in my left knee suddenly re-awakened, I remember thinking this must be how it feels to be tortured by someone breaking your kneecaps.
The ambulance arrived, once again I apologised that I hadn,t had time to clean the kitchen up, they tied my head up like a mummy, I couldn,t understand why they were bothering with my head when it was my left knee that was the problem, I hadn,t even noticed that I had gashed my head and there was a substantial amount of blood oozing out of it, eventually they dealt with the offending left knee, and as they did so, my screams must have been enough to wake the dead, I never realised that I could possibly scream so loud.
Anyway they carted me off to another hospital, stitched up my head, pumped me full of sedatives and painkillers and placed half of my leg in a thing called a fedula which looks a bit like what cricketers wear to protect their legs, only with a little hole with my very black left knee poking out.
By Monday I had enough, I was desperate for a cigarrette, and even more desperate to feel in control once again, instead of like a dopey zombie.
In the first hospital the orthapaedic doctor said I had a fracture and a sprain in my left knee, in the second hospital, I saw another specialist who said there was no fracture, I asked him on Monday what he was going to do, he replied nothing more than was being presently done, resting and leaving the leg in the fedula, so I said OK I may as well do that at home then, I figured at least I could have a glass of wine and a smoke there, better than sedatives and painkillers.
So here I am, hobbling around on crutches, sticking my left leg in a plastic bin liner when I want to shower and generally trying to live a normal life without putting any weight on my left leg. Not easy.
Yesterday I visited a third specialist who confirmed the diagnosis of the first one that yes indeed I have a small fracture and a big sprain, meanwhile I will have to keep my leg encased in this cricket type apparatus for at least one month, by which time I will have biceps like popeye from using my new crutches.
Discuss this Journal entry [15]
Latest reply: Oct 23, 2003
fat
Posted Sep 16, 2003
I have always suspected I am a little on the large side, and that fact was today confirmed to me at breakfast by my beloved, I looked at him over my toast and said that he really should do something about his huge tummy as I am concerned that he could no longer see his feet, he in turn looked at me over his toast, spread with copious amounts of butter and jam, and replied that I was not exactly thin either.
So, I said, you think I am fat? no, he said not fat, just not thin, well, he continued, trying to dig himself out of the hole, it wouldn,t suit you to be thin, why on earth not? I asked.
He then descended into a reply of garbled nonsence with which he tried very hard to flatter me, but which really confirmed my suspicions, I am a little on the fat side, however, his tummy is far, far, far fatter than mine, that even he cannot deny.
As it turned out, today has been a really fat day, I have had loads of big, rubenesque clients searching for size 58 to 62, which made me feel like a little twiggy, accompanied mainly by tiny, skinny and amazingly lovely husbands.
Most of the women who came today were blessed with the most beautiful skin, wrinkle free, yet over 50 years old, they were so animated when they found that yes we had a good selection of nice clothes in their size, and they all spent a good while trying on and selecting clothes, and we all ended up having a really good time joking about all of our defects!!
Being pretty, attractive and simply gorgeous is not the perogative of only slim young lithesome things.
My beloved agrees, well he hasn,t much choice has he 
he will have to suffer the consequences if he disagrees. 
Discuss this Journal entry [28]
Latest reply: Sep 16, 2003
Back to school
Posted Sep 10, 2003
The children go back to school tomorrow, they have only been off school now for 3 long months, however the school does expect them to study during the holidays and send us parents to buy vacation books for them to complete, so far I have not mastered the art of obliging my 6 year old and 8 year old to knuckling down to school work during the holidays, I am working full time, and the children have attended a summer school during July and AUgust, which is basically about having fun, loads of swimming, tennis, karate and a little bit of school work.
Needless to say the vacation books are incomplete.
So as a new school year begins, so does the expense, new uniforms, the ones from last year no longer fit, new shoes, good sturdy navy blue leather ones, not cheap! new trainers, white, and all the books and materials that they will need for the year, as the children actually write in their school books you cannot save them for another child, my son is now entering the first year of primary, his sister the third, so unfortunately Lydia,s books cannot be re-used for Hugo, even though I had to buy exactly the same books two years ago when she entered into primary.
We buy the books, we bring them home, we are then obligated by the school to suffer and cover them all with transparent sticky paper, a job that requires patience and time, neither of which I am blessed with.
I am told, not to worry, it gets, far, far worse, as friends of mine with older children take great delight in saying, - wait until they start university!!!
Somehow I don,t think I will be retiring just yet, unless of course I win the lottery!
Discuss this Journal entry [16]
Latest reply: Sep 10, 2003
My father
Posted Sep 4, 2003
When you left a part of me died
with you, a gap, a wound, open wide,
was left, I miss you still,
nothing can ever hope to fill,
the need for your presence, your advice,
the love that was without a price,
I didn,t always know how to demonstrate
the love I felt, thinking it could wait,
because you were there, always for me,
the child, the daughter, centering selfishly
upon her needs, her wants and desires
Never thinking that one day time expires,
Discuss this Journal entry [3]
Latest reply: Sep 4, 2003
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Jane Austin
Researcher U220470
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