Films I have not seen

was a topic I had to think about yesterday. Okay it was a Twitter post by someone I know that brought the thought on.
I am not someone who goes to see films very often. The last film I saw was "The King's Speech" - yes, rather a long time ago. There have been films since then that I have considered "might be interesting" but I have simply not managed to get around to seeing them. They are the sort of film I think  I might find on a DVD one day and watch - when I have time. 
It took me years to see a film my brother enthused about at the time of its release. By the time I saw it "2001 - A space odyssey" seemed old and dull. The special effects were no longer special.
Yesterday I started to make a list of film series I had not seen.  
There are the Star Wars films. I have never seen any. I have only a vague idea of what they are about.  Science fiction really isn't of any great interest to me. I don't read it either. The closest I have come to that is Edmund Cooper's "The Overman Culture" and Madeleine L'Engle's "A wrinkle in time" series.
The Lord of the Rings series is something I have not watched either.  (I have not seen "The Hobbit" either.) I have read the books and I am well aware that the scenery and so on  is supposed to be magnificent. Perhaps I will go to New Zealand one day and see the scenery for myself? It seems unlikely right now.
I haven't seen the Hunger Games films although I read the first book. I did not like the book.
Oh yes, those Twilight films...I couldn't even get past the first few pages of the first book. What other people see in the books is beyond me  - but tastes differ.
Batman and Mad Max are more film series I have not seen and do not want to see. 
"So, what have you seen?" someone asked me via Twitter.
I have seen three James Bond movies. It was rather a long time ago now and I thought they were slightly ridiculous but, at the same time, good escapism.  
And I saw the first Harry Potter movie.  I saw that in a theatre packed to the hilt with children. The Senior Cat came too. It was good fun. It was made even better fun because the children were absolutely enthralled by it. I  haven't seen the other films in the series. 
Perhaps I will one day see more James Bond or Harry Potter ...if I ever reach ancient cat-hood and can no longer do anything other than lie there with my knitting between my paws. 
I really do not want to see any of the others.

Mother's Day will be

different this year.
My mother died in 2000 and we have never had to go through the embarrassment of again being asked, "What did you give your mother?"  or "What did you do on Mother's Day?" 
It was an embarrassment simply because we were not permitted to  give Mum anything or do anything for her.  I remember our one attempt to do something. We four children put our pocket money together and bought our mother a book we knew she wanted to read. (The book was Lillian Beckwith's, "The sea for breakfast".) We gave it to her on the morning of Mother's Day. 
It was passed back to us with the words, "You know we don't celebrate Mother's Day. Every day should be a mother's day. Return it to the shop."
We took it back, still in the wrapping the shop had provided. Instead of admitting what she had said we lied and said she had been given two copies so that we did get our pocket money back. 
I have never been able to read the book.
Mum would have seen herself as having done absolutely the right thing. She would have  believed she was teaching us a lesson about the commercialism which surrounds Mother's Day. It was a bit like that with Christmas and Easter too.  We were given useful presents at Christmas - things we would have needed anyway but a bit more interesting than new school shoes.  Mum did not give us Easter eggs either - although she sometimes remembered to dye our boiled eggs with cochineal.  
Mum did not even want cards we had made. She most certainly did not want her breakfast brought to her in bed or a meal made for her or to be taken out for a meal. 
It is just the way Mum was. I don't think she had any idea how hurt we felt.
Middle Cat's eldest is off duty today. He and his wife have invited her and my BIL for lunch - social distancing measures allowing this when certain precautions are taken. Middle Cat told Nephew's partner that, "Mother's Day isn't something we fuss about but not having to cook lunch will be lovely." 
And no, it isn't something they fuss over but Youngest Nephew will have a long chat with her from interstate as well. They often do but this  one will also be an acknowledge of her role as mother.
Brother Cat's partner is not the mother of his children. Their mother is no longer alive. R.... has taken her place as far as she can. For them she is "mother" even though they do not call her "mum". Actual visits are not permitted in their state but there will be plenty of chat and flowers or a plant for her garden. They want to acknowledge her importance in their lives - and they do it at other times as well. 
Mother's Day is too much a commercial event but, had church services been permitted here, there would almost certainly have been a focus on two things. One would of course been the role of mothers in our lives. The other would have been the 75th Anniversary of VE Day. 
When we put those two things together the role of mothers becomes very powerful indeed. The poem is sentimental mid-Victorian but yes, mothers are to be celebrated.

The Hand That Rocks The Cradle
Is The Hand That Rules The World

Blessings on the hand of women!
Angels guard its strength and grace,
In the palace, cottage, hovel,
Oh, no matter where the place;
Would that never storms assailed it,
Rainbows ever gently curled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
Infancy's the tender fountain,
Power may with beauty flow,
Mother's first to guide the streamlets,
From them souls unresting grow--
Grow on for the good or evil,
Sunshine streamed or evil hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
Woman, how divine your mission
Here upon our natal sod!
Keep, oh, keep the young heart open
Always to the breath of God!
All true trophies of the ages
Are from mother-love impearled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
Blessings on the hand of women!
Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,
And the sacred song is mingled
With the worship in the sky--
Mingles where no tempest darkens,
Rainbows evermore are hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
William Ross Wallace

 

Coming out of lock down

or "self-isolation" is now under discussion here. There are cautious moves afoot to relax some restrictions.
 I am worried about this. There will be far too many people who think, "Things are back to normal. We don't need to worry."
Now is precisely when we should start to worry even more. We are heading into winter here in the Antipodes. It is the season of the common cold and strains of influenza. 
We might only have two active cases known to the medical profession but there will be people in the community who could unknowingly infect others. (The last active case has been an older man who had almost completed a period of quarantine. Five people around him are now isolated too.)
But some things might be moving towards a more "normal" state of affairs. Weddings can have a few more guests. Funerals may be attended by more people. There might be more al fresco dining - although who will be able to afford meals out when the unemployment rate has almost doubled. Not all the fifty-five thousand people in this state who lost their jobs will be going back to work.
I had to go to the library yesterday. It has been closed of course but we have been able to borrow books on a "click and collect" basis - go on loan and make the request using your library card. You then go to the library and wait outside while a staff member collects the book and processes the loan.  It has been a privilege to be able to do this. I have tried to use it very sparingly because I know the staff were in danger of being overwhelmed at times. They have also used the time wisely and achieved other things as well.
But, I needed a book so I put in the request knowing it was on the shelves. Things have quietened down considerably and by lunchtime there was a message to say I could pick the book up. I pedalled off after lunch. There was nobody monitoring the outside table but one of the staff gave me a wave. 
I waited. They would need my library card - or so I thought. No. Two minutes later B.... arrived with two books. One of them was a new knitting book. He didn't need my library card. He just did a reverse of my name.
   "We thought  you might like to look at this too - ready for when the knitting group can start again."
This is the thoughtful, "we know what you are likely to be interested in" sort of action that makes going to our local library such a pleasure. The library staff know that I look carefully at each new knitting and crochet book they acquire. I don't use the books myself but I can tell members of the group what is there and whether they might find it useful  
And in this case they know that I'll put the book in the return chute before they library opens again. Another reader can borrow it as soon as the doors open. Our Prime Minister thinks libraries are important. They have been included in phase one of the long, slow road back to something we might consider "normal".
Now what it will take is for people to be careful and sensible and not break the rules or try to bend the guidelines. The library, the central social hub or the community, can start breathing again. 
If we are careful other things might come back to life too.

Football is a game

that has somehow been turned into a multi-million dollar industry. The players are bought and sold as if they are slaves  in a Roman market place. Perhaps they are slaves of a sort  but they also get paid obscene amounts of money. 
They also get cared for in ways that most people can only dream of. Today's front page is screaming because some of these pampered children have allegedly broken the rules about training in isolation  - while being accommodated at a rather smart hotel in a  tourist area some distance and to the north of the city. Poor little darlings.
No, I have no sympathy at all.
I am much more concerned by the lack of financial and other support for others we actually need. I am concerned for the research workers in the laboratories, the staff in hospitals, the teachers dealing with the children of these workers and more.
Yesterday I had a call from one of the local schools. I am the person of last resort for the child in question. His father was in the laboratory and his mother was in an operating theatre. Neither could be disturbed. His grandparents are living on the family farm at present. I was the closest. No, he wasn't hurt but he had, very unusually for him, had a "complete melt down". They couldn't work out what was wrong or even what had happened. He wouldn't tell them. Would I please come and see if I could do anything?
I didn't think it was likely but I went anyway...to be greeted by the sight of one small boy curled up in a tight ball with his hands over his ears. The adults disappeared and left me to it. 
I had really thought I was going to get absolutely nowhere but, as soon as everyone else had gone he unwound himself and rushed over to me.
    "Cat, my daddy isn't killing people!"
    "Of course not! Whatever gave you that idea? Do you want a cuddle while you tell me about it?" The last question was superfluous as he had already pushed me into a chair and was climbing on to me - forget "social distancing" right then. He needed a hug.
It all came tumbling out in a confused sort of way but I finally sorted it out.  One of the older children, knowing what this child's father is really doing, had started to tease him that his father was killing people in the laboratory -  in order to use them for experimental purposes. He thought it was funny and that the more distressed the child became the funnier it was, especially when some of his friends joined in. It left the younger boy so distressed he couldn't cope with the situation.
   "What's more important," we asked the children, "Being able to kick a football or saving someone's life?"
I left them discussing this with their teachers. It would be so good if saving lives really was the priority.


 

The survival of some small clubs

and associations,  guilds or groups must now be under question. When we moved into this house our neighbours behind us belonged to what could only be called a fairly specialised gardening club. It concentrated on just one type of flower - not roses but gladioli.  Our neighbours, being very elderly at the time, are long since deceased. The club would still seem to exist  but I wonder  how many members it has. My guess would be that it is very small now. It was not large back then.
I had a look for other "clubs" too. Membership numbers are not given so I can only guess at their likely size. One way of guessing is whether they have a real presence on the internet  - rather than simply a telephone listing. 
Where there is simply a telephone listing it suggests that members are older and less used to using the internet. They may not have an email address and the idea of a Facebook page may not even occur to them.
At present such groups cannot meet. I wonder if they are going to survive a lengthy shut down? 
I belong to a reasonable size group. There are about seventy members and around forty of those usually attend at any one time. There are some younger members but the office holders tend to be older people, presumably those with more time. They have tried to keep things going this month with an extra newsletter. It is a commendable thing to try. I have no doubt other groups are doing similar things.  
But I still wonder whether it will be enough to keep some small groups going. Will they be like the small cult like "church" to which my mother once belonged? When I was a child this "church" had a congregation of several hundred people in two different locations in the city. It had a building on prime real estate which must have been worth a great deal - and they owned it freehold. Now there are a handful of adherents left - elderly people who meet in private homes. They will soon be gone altogether. 
Some of these other groups may well go the same way. How many young people are interested in bonsai, succulents, gladioli or geraniums? Of course some of them are interested in gardening in a general way but their lifestyles have changed. Belonging to anything other than their beloved footy club is not something for which they can find time.
Service clubs like Lions and Rotary are struggling too. Sometimes there is a family tradition of belonging to such things but, more often than not, people say they have "no time". It is easier to give money than time. 
The group I belong to  should serve two functions. It should provide for the craft involved but it should also be a social support  network for  people in need of like minded company. That can't happen right now. People may look elsewhere. Older members may decide the effort of returning is just too great. Can it survive? I don't know. There are ideas which could be tried but they require an effort  and not everyone can handle such ideas.
People won't be meeting in bigger groups yet.  It may be months before that happens and even then it may need to be done differently. 
But human beings generally need the company and  support of other human beings. We need to find ways of  helping that to  happen. Humans are not natural hermits. 

Shopping in warehouses is

not like shopping in the supermarket.
Middle Cat and I went to a warehouse yesterday. It is a place her late Greek-Cypriot MIL introduced her to when Middle Cat first married my BIL.  It is of course run by Greek-Cypriots.
It is an industrial size shed in the industrial area of the city. The people who work in it are Greek-Cypriot migrants, their children and grandchildren. Middle Cat knows most of them of course. As a physiotherapist she has treated some of them. Surprisingly her husband is not related to any of them - although some of his cousins undoubtedly are related by marriage.
And, not surprisingly, it caters for the Greek-Cypriot residents of the city. There are shelves stacked high with olives in tins and jars. There is olive oil in small cans and large cans. There are crates of tomato puree and tins of tomato paste. There are dried beans and peas in kilo packets.  There are spices in half kilo packets stacked next to dried figs, Turkish dried apricots and apple rings. Along one row there are industrial size tins of fruit and ten kilo packs of flour. At one end there is kitchen equipment. Even there the items tend to be large - intended for large families and entertaining all the extended family. It is all a reminder that things are done a little differently among them.
English is spoken there - but you are more likely to hear Greek - the Cypriot version. Middle Cat speaks a little. We are greeted with words like "Kalimera" (Good day)  "Ti Kaneis?"  (How are you?") and "Yasou" ("your health"). Even I can respond "Poli kala" ("very nice" - in other words "I'm okay").
But it really is a different place and it is inhabited largely by the old and the employees - who are packing orders for supermarkets. The younger generations shop in the supermarkets. The women go to work. The art of the market type warehouse shop is lost on them. They don't have time to stop and gossip like their parents and grandparents did - even while currently abiding by social distancing restrictions.
I think they may have lost something there.

Little street libraries

have appeared in several different locations near us.
I noticed the first one about three weeks ago. It was simply a very large plastic box full of books on top of a fence. There was a label which said,
     "Please borrow."
As I pedalled past a  young man arrived and put two books into the box and then started browsing through the rest. I hope he found something to read.
On further travels I found one outside a church. That was a specially built little hut. The notice there suggested borrowing an donating. It was looking well used. I hope that whoever was responsible for it picked up the bag of books someone had left there - before it rained.
Out of curiosity I checked the two tiny shelves at the "hole-in-the-wall" type coffee shop opposite the supermarket. They are still open for take-away coffee. Were there books on the shelves? Yes, a few - although not as many as usual.
I have since seen another row of books along a fence. No doubt they were taken in at night. There were two people - apart - browsing those.
And yesterday I found another one. This one was a very serious one indeed. It was on a corner,  in the wall of a building which had once been one of those old fashioned corner shops. Someone has put proper shelves in and it is about the size of a small bookcase. There is a note there about please not putting books on the ground or the seat.
Yes, there is a seat there too. It's a quiet area - at least at the moment. People could sit there and read for a while.
The books in all these are paperbacks of varying degrees of shabbiness. Most of them are what might be called "popular light literature" I suppose - but so what? It might be the very thing we need right now. People are reading and sharing. The library may not be open so they have found a way around it for those out on a walk with the dog. 
This morning I am going to pedal out and put a few on the shelves of the corner shop library. That way someone else can "escape" for a few hours - without going too far at all.