This evening my son informed me that Robbie and I were "weirding him out" by our strange behaviour. No, Robbie wasn't being inappropriately affectionate, he wasn't even talking too much or bouncing about like Tigger. We were both sitting down quietly enjoying the warmth of the fire (it is very cold tonight) and I was reciting poetry to him. I guess that is a bit odd even for us, but while we were out yesterday Robbie pointed out a pub called the Lamplighter and it rekindled a long lost memory for me. When I was a young child I had book of poems by Robert Louis Stevenson called A Child's Garden of Verses and one of my favourite poems from that book was called The Lamplighter. Once I had started to remember old favourites several more came flooding back to my mind and I wanted to share them with Robbie. Apparently his childhood was devoid of poetry - or to be more accurate he doesn't remember much from his school days! I guess people only remember things that matter to them, Robbie has a very good memory for music, but I don't because most of it passed me by in the first place - I have never really been into music.
Perhaps my son would have been more in his 'comfort zone' if he'd herd us arguing earlier today. It is nice having Robbie working from home or at least it is nice most of the time, but there are times when I wish him many miles away! Today he offered to cook me beans on toast for lunch. I think it was part of his 'cunning plan' because he waited until my food was in front of me and I started eating, then he pounced. He announced that he intended to reorganise the way that we store cutlery. It was difficult for me to respond with my mouth full, but I made my feelings crystal clear. There is no way that he is going to mess with the cutlery, I like things the way they are where I can find them. There is plenty to keep him busy, there are countless things that need changing in this house, but I am not going to let him mess with the kitchen!
Sometimes when I sit down to write the blog I cant write about the most pressing issues, thoughts and feelings as it would either be breeching the confidence of someone who would not want that issue made public or it would make extremely boring reading. That was the case today, so I did what I usually do when this happens, I clicked on to a site for writers looking for inspiration. There was a long list of questions, but the one that jumped out at me was 'describe yourself in one word'. That was a fairly easy question for me to write about because my special word was given to me a very long time ago and over the years I have grown into it.
I went to a very traditional school that put a strong emphasis on academic achievement. The teaching methods may seem rather old fashioned by today's standards but I am glad that we had to learn so much by heart, because it has stayed with me all my life and the poetry in particular has brought me so much pleasure. From the age of 9 we had spoken English lessons with the formidable Mrs Nichol who could strike fear into even the bravest heart without even raising her voice. We had a textbook called Poems for Pleasure and we were expected to choose a poem from the book, write it out in an exercise book, learn it by heart and then recite it in the lesson. She would hear half the class each lesson so the whole process worked on a fortnightly cycle.
When my name was called I took my exercise book across to her desk then walked across to the corner opposite her desk and recited my poem. I was fairly pleased with myself as I had remembered it without prompting and I hoped I'd read with enough expression and meaning to satisfy. There was a long pause when I finished the poem then her deep terrifying voice boomed out "Idiosyncratic, what is the meaning of idiosyncratic?" I was frozen to the spot, the word was not in the poem and I had no idea what it meant. I told her that I did not know. She replied "idiosyncratic, meaning peculiar unto one's self; learn it and remember it because you will need it for the rest of your life to excuse your spelling!" My spelling has improved since those days but the word has remained with me ever since. I developed a great respect for Mrs Nichol, she was certainly formidable but she was an amazing teacher with a very good sense of humour.
I like the word idiosyncratic, it sums me up very well. I do things my way, I am not a sheep, I don't follow blindly I make my own decisions and I have my own opinions. That may irritate people sometimes, but I like it that way and I am not going to change, so don't waste time trying. If I had to choose a second word to describe me it would be 'determined' (or as my family would say 'stubborn'). It is not so easy to think of just one word to describe Robbie, he is a man of many words and one word would never be enough to describe him. At the moment the only word that even comes close is impossible!
