Sudden Increase in Vitamin D
Sudden Increase in Vitamin D
Could it be the sudden burst of spring like weather, or is it going to be the only summer we will get (?), or perhaps it is the arrival of the my motorised chair (one needs to be careful not to call it an ‘electric’ chair, as an electric chair is the device used to kill people on death row in America – or it used to be) – let me ponder for a moment? Yes I think these two quite dramatic elements have played an important part in the lift of mood, but there are also other factors that have to be taken into account. Like a finely blended whisky, one needs several different elements brought together under one label, the sum being excessively better to the nose and palate than the individual elements would produce. I have to say other elements have blended in to make life’s whisky so much better of late:
Perhaps it is the news that UKIP have put the Conservatives under so much pressure over the ‘In’ or ‘Out’ question regarding the EU, that the Conservative’s own Back Benchers are in revolt demanding not a referendum but an exit clear and simple. Music to my ears sweeter than the dawn-Chorus, more pleasurable than Ave Maria sung by the most skilled Chorister, and yet this was still not the completed blend, yet;
Could this latest threat to Cameron and the explosion of the Conservatives and Liberal Democrats be reinforcing my drive towards the Green Party, and could this also be contributing to the improvement in what one feels? Perhaps, I do feel that the Green Party is offering elements that no other Political Party is offering; sensible ‘green’ solutions to our recession. Focus on nationalising appalling services that only serve to take as much money off the consumer for the benefit of the Fat-Cats and no one else. Let’s not forget their commitment to invest in businesses whilst setting a living wage not a minimum wage;
Perhaps it is even the arrival of my Meerkat from Compare the Market, sorry Compare the Meerkat, or is it the other way, I forget, either way I got a fab Meerkat – Sergei, my favourite, it made me laugh when he arrived, so funny, I am even tempted to take out a credit card just to get another – perhaps not, who could want more with Sergei standing proud in the bedroom. They do say you can never take the child out of the man and I am the epitome of this. I love being childish with my adolescent children and I was the one that taught them to spit frozen sweet-corn;
Why sweet-corn and not peas I hear you ask, good question, it is my pleasure to explain. They are both good for spitting at targets, and there is no debate that frozen peas are the best by a mile for using in a pea-shooter (hence the name). Anyone that disagrees is simply suffering from some form of psychosis involving deep seated delusions! But when it comes to free style shooting, i.e. using the lips, which takes a far more skilled approach, I am afraid that sweet-corn is best. It’s a matter of seals to be blunt and the ability to build the right amount of pressure without liquid (spit), as the liquid takes energy away from the propelling force. Let’s admit it; to phlegm everywhere is just gross anyway, so to gather pressure without spit is always best. If the whole process was scored as they do in other sports one would definitely have points deducted for ‘spray-effect’ as I like to call it. Peas do not allow for a good seal by the lips so one spits and has a poor level of propelling force forward towards the targets. Now sweet-corn has flat sides and the lips can form a perfect seal, producing the ability to quickly build pressure, and then releasing in one uniformed thrust behind the flat side of the projectile. This allows for accuracy, force, distance and spray minimisation, and it is a skill I was proud to pass to my daughters, well someone had too.
We often went into the garden to practice our art, although I am also attributed with many other skills that are the right of a Father to pass to their children, especially when the Mother is working – ha-ha! I am scurrilously accused of teaching my daughters to burp, to spit the aforementioned small vegetables, and also fight to the death for the last roast potato but there is worse. I have slugged it out with forks with my youngest daughter to get the last sausage wrapped in bacon at the Christmas Day dinner, only to see my wife, their Mother, swoop in and steal it as we fenced – the shame of it. I was on one occasion stabbed by my daughter for the said sausage wrapped in bacon and it has become somewhat of a strategy as meals are consumed to keep a close eye on the last Yorkshire, last piece of pork, and the last sprout. There are tactics that can result in clashing cutlery like the finest fencers. But yes the spitting of small frozen objects of the vegetable kind was a favourite summer pastime in the garden, then watching the birds descend on the vibrant green spheres of Birds Eye Peas or garish golden yellow of Jolly Green Giant (who thinks of these blinking company names for veg!), sweet corn.
And this brings me back to my point, the final element in the fine blend that I have been missing so long. I spent a few hours, with brilliant blue sky, sun warming my face as my wife and I pottered in the garden, trimming this, cutting that, tying back the other, pulling weeds, pruning trees, clearing the first weeds of spring in the boarders so the daffodils and other flowering spring plants could continue with less competition. Doing what I imagined 100,000’s of people, couples doing all over the UK on this finest of days so far in the UK this year. It was glorious and warmed even my soul. My wife and I pottering in the garden was a blend of tastes, smells, sounds, touches as pure visual balance to create the perfect blend, a near perfect day, the most perfect of days, with every element in its place, every party to this perfection playing their part – the closest to the most perfect of days.
This was made even more glorious, as I said a little prayer of thanks in my head, but another element I have not disclosed as yet to the reader. There was one more significant piece to this puzzle of a glorious day I need to confess and be honest about:
- It was the first time ever I was able to enter the garden;
- The first time I did this with my own motorised chair;
- The first time I had explored the large garden with my wife hand in hand telling me about all its elements hidden to me thus far;
- The first time I had ever worked with her to tend to the apple trees or de-weed the boarder;
And we did this together for the first time in 10 years, as husband and wife, as friends, I actually did gardening with my wife. This is the point to it all; it was the first time that I felt ‘normal’ since I first noticed that numb patch down my right thigh, over a decade ago. The first time I forgot about my disability and did what maybe a million other couples were doing that glorious day of Mother Nature’s making and on a Bank Holiday too. I was, for a few wonderful moments no longer disabled, and it tasted finer than any blended whisky, finer than any nectar, I was normal and my disability just was not an issue – it was heaven with my Angel.
This is what made it truly special, I was normal for a few hours and I was bathed in the love of my wife and in Mother Nature’s glory! I hope I can experience this again and again, once in over 10 years is not enough.
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