The kindness of strangers never ceases to amaze me. There are many good, caring people around; we just do not hear of them very often in life. Try spreading acts of kindness and thank-yous around if you can.
©️2026 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Image by Momma Law
Very few of us will be untouched by what is happening in the world and not be saddened by it.
We will perhaps be wanting to help, but how?
As writers, poets, artists, and musicians, we have the ability to support change.
Wherever we are, there will be an element of change. I trust for most of us it will be a managed inconvenience. Sadly, for others, it will be disruptive and life-changing.
If there are rules that need adjusting, we need to write to our government to highlight them. For prompt action, time will be of the essence.
Writers are always a good source of information, with their vast and varied knowledge base. Use this talent to help others who might be struggling to find a way through the system. You will be amazed at how grateful people are to receive such help.
The most precious gift we as writers can give is to use our imaginations and pens to whisk the tired, depressed, sick, and the lonely to a better place. To stir emotions, hope, and laughter, allowing time for those suffering to know they are not alone and for them to gather strength from your amazingly informative and entertaining pens.
There are, of course, many other things we can do to encourage others to help, which I hope we already do. Yet it is with our pens we are most needed to press for change and to lift the spirit of our nation to assist mental health.
Our vital task is to tell the truth, avoiding fake news. Do not be fooled; ask or do your own diligent research.
We have watery sunshine and warmth here, birds chattering away. I am getting ready to do battle with a creaking iPad, hoping it will last till the end of the month. It will then be put into retirement, while I am challenged by a younger version. Oh, help, as I am able to make computers do what the manufacturers have never envisioned.
Let your pens flow with information and kindness till we meet here again another day.
©️2022 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen 💕🌹
Image by Dreamtime
We are facing difficult times at the moment, when a new virus has appeared creating anxiety for travellers round the World. Sadly it has started in China this time, at a very difficult time for the Chinese. It is their New Year and the time of the year they move on mass to see their families. Some have been separated from one New Year to another. So the decision to restrict travel in some areas has been important to prevent the viral spread.
It will be causing great sorrow, anxiety and loss of wasted food gifts for their families. My heart goes out to them and to those fighting this virus and the hospital and medically staff working to save them.
Round the World Scientists will be working very hard to find a vaccine to combat this strain. What can we do?
Public Health notices will be released to inform you.
Each Country will be working out their own advice on how to help yourself and others. You can use Google to see what the World Health Organisation advises and what other countries are doing. Keep informed with reliable information. Increase personal and family hygiene activity to a higher level seems to be helpful.
Good news we have had i rain, our water tanks have been refilled, everyone is delighted. For families on tight budgets it is a very welcome gift.
It is amazing how fast the grass and vegetation recovers after a period of drought. Perhaps it is my imagination but a fresh green is tinging the dried brown grass already, the grazing animals will be pleased with the boost.
Take care of one another, be mindful of others in need of help.
2026 ©️Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Image by pbs.org
I have a phone, smarter than I am, much of which I don’t understand, with messages arriving without my command.
We are told not to press buttons that appear unrequested.
Some are disguised and colourfully presented to look like those we love.
Yet they are created deliberately to entrap and attack us, with cruel, malicious, daylight robbery and uninvited calls.
Yet, conversely, we cherish our phones for emergencies, too, for communication, information, research, photography, for instant heritage and memory recall.
For every evil attack delivered to our phones, we have security barriers to contain the damage.
To repair them or produce new ones with more information we have to understand.
Working furiously to repeal and help keep us safe. Yet we have to take care to keep our curiosity in check.
Keep our fingers away from the talk button, to stop allowing viruses a way to start their attacks.
Perhaps we have to return to handwritten letters and no internet once more, however, I would find it very difficult without spell check.
I love my phone, yet I worry about the future. I hope I am wrong.
2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo by Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash
The needs of most of humanity are simple: a dwelling, however fragile, to call their own; steady, clean water, sanitation and food supply; clothing; good friends, love, family and a sense of belonging, with access to education and health services in a community setting.
Only a small minority of humanity seek and demand more, much more, using terror, pain, death and destruction of what the majority hold dear.
Why?
We enter this world with nothing, and we leave with nothing, not even our bodies.
2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo by Eric Prouzet on Unsplash
I am sitting here at home, waiting for the rain to ease so I can make a geriatric dash up the road to the club I try to go to every week. It’s called Café Square 1. Speed will be of the essence if I want to arrive remotely dry.
I am just waiting for the raindrops, splashing in a puddle visible from my window, to stop falling, or become light to minimal, before making my run.
I have a raincoat which is very efficient at keeping out the rain and cold, but its hood has the annoying habit of dropping over your eyes, leaving you sightless until you push it back up.
Unfortunately, it was not designed to stay on my head, despite all my attempts to stop it. It is very much a dry weather coat. I have made the decision now to buy a waterproof hat.
The rain has eased. I am off.
2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Rapid change is encroaching on so many fronts that it’s becoming necessary to find methods to apply the brakes from time to time, allowing breathers in happy places, real or imaginary.
Have you found yours yet?
Here are some of mine!
Just waking up with someone I love is a very happy place for me.
Clasping a cup of tea, allowing moments of reflection, calm, and contemplation, is refreshing before more pressing demands creep in.
Greeting Lily, the cat who wishes to be mine, with love and an imaginary two-way conversation. If only she could really speak (though I have to acknowledge she has some great understanding moments).
Glancing out at the garden, connecting with the wild inhabitants, some of them regular visitors and neighbours, sources for topics or characters for my writings.
The postman’s knock on the door and the first outside human greeting, one shared for years between us. Official-looking post put to one side, for serious contemplation and discussion later.
These days, I long for a spell to relieve me of the time spent washing and dressing. I haven’t found it yet!
After breakfast, I slip into my very happy place, unzipping the stories waiting to be written and released, with fingers crossed that my very active computer gremlins will have found somewhere else to go to play their cruel games.
Occasionally, this activity can be linked with a pyjamas day, a very good time.
Light housework at times takes me to a happy place when everything is turned back to tidy and welcoming again.
My day is split between two halves, talking to team members, Kelly and Jane in New Zealand in the morning, as we share problems, solutions and new ideas, plus comical giggles.
The end of the day is spent communicating with Anna in Portugal; she sometimes gives me new orders but mainly triggers reels of laughter.
Plus, importantly, we share how we are feeling and our families are coping. Just because we care and help does not mean we don’t hurt and feel the whole gamut of life events at times.
Working with this wonderful, widespread team gives us many happy moments.
The response from you, our readers, on Social Media, gives us the most pleasure: helping you to a happier place, real or imaginary.
Companionable conversation with my young man and Lily, with music we like, or a detective story, or environmental, historical or travel programme, leads to the end of a good day for us.
2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
A woman I am: a decision-maker, it is true; stubborn, with swings of mood, fiercely protective and with laughter often bubbling free. A lover, a wife, a mother, not always without mistakes, I have to admit to quite a few.
From birth, I have the unspoken, sacred honour to help populate this earth, this human place. To nurture and strengthen the young to know right from wrong. Working dawn to dusk to help place food on the table.
When I can, I work hard to introduce an educational plan. I work to keep finances firmly in place, to sustain and secure a future, safer for my children, safer than mine.
As a woman, I long for the banishment of physical and mental abuse that some suffer behind closed doors, and for happiness and love to gently flow.
Other women have remained single, through health or choice; a different path they might have had to follow.
The pressure is on for women to have more say and influence at home. To contribute to the community and nation in numerous, previously unimaginable, ways.
With age, I hope to fade away, leaving a mark on this human time, departing with the hope of seeing again those I have so fiercely loved and have had to sadly leave behind.
2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
Some of my Facebook friends, and Facebook itself, seem to have noticed a lapse in my regular postings. I have been struggling with a damaged left shoulder, and negotiating my way through the NHS to surgery and recovery at SWELOC A LEADING ORTHOPAEDIC CENTRE IN SURREY.
The biggest hindrance has been trying to dodge the pesky bugs both among staff and myself. How they manage to chop and change appointments all the time, to keep the bed spaces full and rotating, is nothing short of miraculous.
I have been treated with the utmost, surgical care and support, and am improving rapidly with the paced supervision of a physiotherapist.
My other injury is too dangerous to operate on, so I am working out the best way to manage it and carry on doing what I want to do as comfortably as possible.
I booked myself into THE RUSTINGTON CONVALESCENT HOME IN SUSSEX by the sea. A wonderful experience allowing me every opportunity to recover. Assisted with physiotherapy, excellent food, nursing reassurance, companionship, exercise, music and lots of that magical healing ingredient laughter.
Sadly this is not a free NHS service. It is not available generally to patients, some of whom I think could benefit from its gentle encouraging first week or few days of post-operative adjustment, especially for those who live alone.
We used to have quite a few dotted around the country, but sadly no more.
Now safely back home with my young man, I am writing again.
My love and understanding to all those of you struggling either, waiting for an operation or recovering from one. Patience is a word I will share with everyone, as we wait for your turn to come around.
Spread a little kindness and smiles while you can.
2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
Yes, we are avid storytellers and listeners, which takes us into all kinds of situations: some very serious, others sliding us into delightful mixes of unrehearsed comedy. Those moments carry us through the tough times.
It is interesting to meet groups from other countries, with their reactions and behaviour when in a foreign country, which can cause total amazement. There seems to be, in some cases, before setting off, no research about the customs, food, health issues, or animals and insects to be aware of.
Your little story caused me to chuckle: to be mistaken for a lovely local English-limited Cambodian; brilliant! I loved your description of the temples, teak wood, white linen tablecloths, orchids, and enormous tree roots. I have memories of those, too. Bareback riding was also fun in those days, winding my way through rubber plantations, and arriving back exhausted. I wish I was a fairy and could fly back for a quick visit in peaceful times. Not sure it would be the same though!
I have often wondered about those devastated people, trying to pick up the pieces of totally wrecked lives after wars of any kind have moved on.
Music is a great soother and healer, slowly over time. So is the peaceful mingling of different nationalities, learning from one another about the past and talking about the future: bits to avoid, others to expand and share with kindness and love.
Thank you. You have both started my thoughts flowing, trying to ignore the insistent beat of war drums in different parts of the world. I would far rather listen intently for the imaginary beat of fairy wings.
© 2024 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
It began with an enticing advertisement for Shen Yun, an amazing show of classical Chinese dance at the Apollo Hippodrome in Hammersmith, London.
With two of our young family having a birthday within days of one another, it seemed a great idea to go as a family. The adults agreed: let’s go!
Half the family were coming up from the coast, so I decided to hire a taxi to take us to the theatre. The first complication was that I had acquired an awful cold, two and a half weeks before the event, with my husband acquiring it two days before the show. I was deemed well enough to go, armed with cough sweets and a mask. My husband decided to stay at home as he felt unwell.
So, we now had a spare seat to fill. I rang two friends but they were out. My husband suggested our neighbour, whom I had discounted as she had a husband and little lad. However, on asking, she said, “I’d love to go.” Even though she had very kindly offered to make us curry and the children a pizza for lunch, leaving us time to relax for a while before dressing up and setting off to the show, she was still keen to join us.
On the family’s arrival, they were minus one member, my daughter-in-law. She had been struck down by this vicious, disruptive bug. I was so sad for her, and disappointed, as she so deserved something nice. Then the hunt was on to find another person for the last ticket. The dilemma was solved by my lovely neighbour who asked, “Can we take my son?” “Of course we can, why didn’t I think of it immediately?” I replied. She asked her young son, and he was keen to join us.
Once lunch and relaxation were over, we changed and prepared ourselves for the trip to the theatre. The taxi arrived on time, with a lovely driver whom we conversed with all the way. Subjects covered were Pakistan, religion, a pharmaceutical company, marriage and change of occupation, re-training, taking up law, travelling to the UK, transferring to a law degree here, and working a taxi to pay for it. He dropped us right outside the theatre, and I asked before I left him, “What are you going to do now? Will you be taking us back?” He did not know; all he said was, “I’m hungry; I’ll find something to eat.” We thanked him, waved goodbye, and made our way into the theatre.
As it was a late booking, the seats I had booked were very high up inside the theatre. My son disappeared and returned, waving two tickets. “These are for you and me, Mum, to sit near the front. I asked if they could help me, as you were disabled and would find it difficult to make it up the many steps to the top.”
We sat six rows from the front and had a wonderful time watching the traditional Chinese stories told in dance and music. The costumes were amazingly beautiful in their subtle colours and the stage backdrops changed frequently, giving you the sense of early Chinese life. The dancers, both male and female, were very well drilled and moved elegantly, with acrobatics being performed effortlessly.
The intermission came so quickly. My son disappeared to see my neighbour and the children in the gods. I talked to a very nice lady who had left her husband at home, as he was uninterested in this type of entertainment.
The orchestra returned to their places and began tuning up, and the theatre audience returned to their seats. I became very anxious at my son’s non-appearance, as we were in the middle of a row and his late arrival would disturb many people. Suddenly, he appeared in the gangway with my young granddaughter, who would be no disturbance to anyone. He retreated upstairs to join the others in the gods.
All too soon, the show was over. We clapped and clapped in praise of the performances which delighted everyone.
We waited until the bulk of the auditorium had emptied before standing up and looking for my son. As I turned, there was a beautiful, elegant, tall lady standing behind me. She had on a gorgeous brown dress decorated with gold lattice ribbon. She was on her own, so I asked her how she had liked the performance. She said it was wonderful and was glad to have come. I then said, “I hope you don’t find me rude, but I just have to say how beautiful you look, from head to toe.” She laughed, saying, “It said in the programme to dress up. So I made the effort.”
I laughed, replying, “It allowed me to wear my new fake fur jacket. However, I refrained from wearing my mother’s paste tiara; I thought that might be a step too far.”
The family arrived and, once gathered together, we made our way to the taxi. There was our lovely driver waiting for us.
Once we were all seated and strapped in and the driver had eased our way into the busy traffic, I asked, “What did you do? Did you eat?” He laughed, “I had two callouts: one to Heathrow, the other to Kingston Hill. Yet I managed to eat some dates and drink some milk. Open the glove box in front of you,” he instructed, “and pass the box of dates around in the taxi.”
So, one delightful date turned into a tasty date of another kind, and a truly magical night.
Much to my amazement and delight, the children loved the performance and talked about it frequently.
© 2024 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
OH, WHERE ARE THE TOOTH FAIRIES?
A painful, hidden condition that affects most of us at one time or another during our lifetime, toothache has been responsible for sleepless nights at the beginning of life, for both babies and parents.
At school, the discarding of our first baby teeth sets off a painful awakening of the need to keep our teeth spotlessly clean with regular personal care, something at that age we can often forget, while involved in the excitement of childhood.
As time goes on, damage to tooth enamel occurs, resulting in decay and agonising toothache, requiring fillings and, on occasion, extractions. Sometimes, the extractions are unnecessary, but the alternative dental treatment is unaffordable. Losing a tooth, by any method, is preferable to living with constant tooth and gum pain.
When multiple extractions take place, the shape of the face alters, making you look much older than you are. It lowers your feelings of self-worth and changes how other people react to you.
So, I ask again: where are the Tooth Fairies?
Free NHS services for many have been withdrawn, causing misery, time off work, and other conditions triggered by infections from rotting teeth. As seen on the BBC today, in Bristol, the desperate need has generated long queues, waiting for hours in very cold weather, outside a dental practice open for free NHS dental care. This is the tip of the iceberg. We cannot be a country where you are judged rich or poor by the quality of the care, or lack of it, of your teeth.
This problem has an economic bite: will the Government be the Tooth Fairy, prepared to restore this vital service to those in constant pain while being financially distressed?
© 2024 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
Hello everyone. How do you feel at the moment, as our lives are being tested in many ways in different parts of the world?
It is time to strengthen family and neighbourhood ties so that together we can meet what is in front of us.
The weather has been playing an active, aggressive part: damaging our homes, water supplies and agricultural production. Wars are destroying more of our infrastructure, causing anxiety and desperation, and requiring help from total strangers as well as family.
I have just watched a lovely good news story on the BBC this evening, about a community coming together, more than 100 of them, to help an elderly disabled lady whose home had disintegrated during Covid and had been taken over by health-wrecking, all-encompassing mould.
She withdrew in shame from her community and was discovered by a friend. Thankfully, this friend galvanised their community to help and they did, magnificently.
I wonder if more of us could get together to help someone in our own communities to a better life. It would give us something very worthwhile to do, as well as strengthen the links of friendship in the community.
Take care and be kind to one another when you can.
2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
The throng awaited, wrapped up in warm clothing, nudging together, backpacks full, bumping for space; standing by, watching for Big Ben to strike in the first minute of the New Year, heralding the first explosion of a magnificent firework display of some length, in celebration of the hope for a better year.
My young man and I sat, glasses in hand, watching and listening to the youthful exuberance and excitement spread before us on TV. Lily the cat withdrew to a bedroom, to curl up and try to avoid the nearby fireworks being released by local families. Thankfully, their display did not last too long; Lily's snores attested to that.
We shared these few minutes with Anna and her mother, in Lisbon Portugal, showing us Madeira and the cruise ships letting off fireworks, a traditional event. Next, we joined my family on the coast in Sussex and drank a toast with them, sharing the London fireworks and dancing from our armchairs, miles apart. The magic of the internet!
Finally, we called out our final wishes of love, switched off the TV and made our way to bed.
Arising first in the morning, I looked out the upstairs window to see a damp, grey day: no brilliant birth of a new year. Someone has to have a grey day was my thought as I went about the familiar mechanism of preparing breakfast for Lily and me; she was letting me know her hungry needs. My young man was still asleep upstairs, catching up after the late-night escapades.
I quietly made my way, breakfast in hand, to sit and watch Breakfast Television. I flicked on the switch to be immediately in Japan with the announcement and views of a big earthquake, splitting homes in front of me. A tsunami warning was in place, urging the inhabitants to head for high ground and not to wait for anything or anyone. I watched in horror; poor people.
The next item was another scene of an active devastation, and a promise by a leader to continue a war for another year with no let-up. Yet another country in unasked for hostilities was forced to retaliate against the destruction of the means to keep their population warm, fed and safe, with no sign of peace in sight. This was in the first few hours of the birth and celebration of the hoped-for better New Year.
My heart sank at the hopelessness of it all. I reached for the TV controller and just pressed anything for a moment's respite. I was now in Vienna in the company of the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra, playing uplifting, beautiful Strauss music. It flowed through me and soothed me, showing a well-dressed colourful, smiling, clapping audience and flowers bedecking the walls.
My spirits rose, as did my confirmation of the enormous value of music, lyrics and singing, to raise the spirits in the most damaging circumstances. Examples abound in the First World War and the Second World War, where both troops and civilian populations were buoyed up by choral and popular music, plus singing and letters. Each and every war, no matter how small, has since taken comfort from them.
Revived, I rang a friend and asked if he knew a good news story I could use. He said, “Yes, I do!” I asked if he could share it with me. He then related this story:
A young boy, William, was killed by a hit-and-run driver in early December. His parents were devastated and they tried to make arrangements for his funeral. They wanted him to be buried in the grounds of a derelict church and a closed cemetery which he loved and where he escaped to spend most of his play time.
(I wondered where this ‘good news’ story was taking me.)
However, there were strict church rules which denied the grieving parents their wish for him to be buried there. They were greatly upset and worked hard to find a solution. A king, the new King Charles III, heard about their grief and, with his power as head of the Church of England, had the authority to change the rules, especially for them, and he did.
Sometimes, even in death, there is good news.
2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
I wish I could summon up a spell.
Powerful enough to make everyone well.
Even if it’s only for twenty-four hours.
A real, worldwide, pain-free day.
To see bodies all twisted and sad,
Straighten up, and smile in amazement.
They would be so glad.
It might strengthen them to cope day by day.
The best I can do is inform with my pen.
Make sure the important information is in plain sight.
Signposting the right people to assist when they can.
Raising funds to crack the misery assailing everyone.
Perhaps then, one by one, my wish might come true.
When that terrible, isolating thing called pain
Would be pushed back into the past
And never again pop into view.
2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
Post-Christmas, after the excitement and anticipation of festivities had faded, our family shared their goodbye hugs and greetings as we waved them off.
We settled back into the normality of the life my young man and I share with Lily, the cat who wishes to be mine. Surrounded with work to do, just what hundreds of families have to face after big family events.
We sat relaxing, drinking the restorative cup of tea, so necessary when reviewing the feelings the visit has stirred up. So many memories to tuck away and revive on other festive occasions.
The next day: bed washing, towel changing, and reviving, leaving the rooms all shipshape, ready for the next visitors, keeping the washing machine and dryer in constant action.
Reorganising everywhere: leftover food to be recycled, fridges and freezer to be cleaned and tidied; lists of things we have run out of and need to reorder for daily living; helping Lily to find her way hesitantly back into her favourite quiet places.
Thankfully, there is no rush for some of these tasks; they can be spread over a couple of days.
On Friday, a hospital visit was fitted in early and, on our return, I fell asleep, awaking mid-afternoon for a snack and a cup of tea.
It was then that a musical extravaganza appeared at the turn of a switch on the television. It was all-encompassing, mesmerisingly beautiful.
It was a production by Sky Arts of Phantom of the Opera at the Royal Albert Hall. I think it was in honour of Andrew Lloyd Webber. The minute the first wonderful notes, sung by amazingly trained singers, hit my ears, I was captivated.
The music beloved by millions, including me, carried me away, triggering my singing along with the wonderful lyrics, albeit much more quietly. The vocalists were superb, and the orchestra and chorus assisted their fantastic performances.
My husband and I sat totally immersed in the music and the story until the intermission.
The orchestra started the music for the return to the story, except it was different: what now? Suddenly, Sarah Brightman appeared alone, singing the theme tune from the opera, and then four men in black suits joined her. They carried on singing singly and then together. I clapped my hands in delight, as I recognised the singers who had played the Phantom over the years. The audience gave each one the applause they so rightly deserved.
I said to my husband, “There’s one missing. I don’t see Michael Crawford.” Hardly had I spoken than Andrew Lloyd Webber and Cameron Mackenzie appeared to join everyone on the stage as they sang the last few lines as a group. Then, Michael Crawford appeared and was given the last word to sing, drawing the whole performance to an end. There were standing ovations, and applause so well deserved rang out.
Music has the power to take you to any place you would like to go and bring you safely back again.
2023 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
The feeling of excitement as the last days of November slip away, and winter takes a grip from now on. As we work our way to the Christmas holidays for those at school. Extra clothing for those who are walking out and about, thin layers are best one on top of the other if you can.
Everyone this year will be taking extra steps to save money as best they can to pay for some extra bills.
It might be helpful to research in the library for ways to help keep warm and eat healthily. Hot water bottles well covered might make a comeback, they certainly are a comfort to me.
Homemade soups are very sustaining and warming. Switch off plugs and gadgets you are not using. Play board games, cards and jigsaws instead if you are warm enough. You might find the companionship of winter evenings draws you closer to those you love.
Time to plan what you might want to do for your family Christmas. Time to put up a Christmas tree, to bring in cheer and goodwill into the home. We are going to bring ours down from the loft, to decorate it with love remembered from years gone by. When tying on baubles given by family members and friends now gone. So many memories good ones for us, are revived when dressing the Christmas Tree.
Take care, love one another, and share where you can.
From Penny Wobbly and the WobblingPen team.
CINDERELLA’ISH TALE
While sitting in a booth in a supermarket café in Worthing, anticipating my husband’s return from the dentist after a tooth extraction, I began preparing myself for a quick departure.
The thought occurred to me that I needed some cash, and I decided to use the cash machine on the way out. I removed my debit card from my handbag, along with a WobblingPen card to give to our waitress who had been very kind.
My husband appeared suddenly and I started to slide along the seat, only to dislodge my debit card onto the floor against the window. I uttered a cry of despair, as I knew my arms would not be able to reach it.
Plan B:
I would take off my flip-flop and slide the card along the floor with my foot. My young man said, “What are you doing?” as he waited with my three-wheeled walking aid. I tried to explain, but he had only one hearing aid in, as the other had gone for repair. So, instead of a dignified and quiet, “I am trying to retrieve my debit card; it is on the floor,” I had to say it loud enough for the whole café to hear.
“Oh for goodness sake, let me get it,”
I replied, “You can’t get down there; there is not enough room.”
However, I was already sprawled on the settee, waving my foot and slowly dragging the card towards where he could grab it. By this time, I was on my back like an upside-down turtle, with the card almost there; thank goodness I was wearing trousers. Then a Prince Charming appeared: a gentleman from the next table. He could have been a basketball player, he was so tall. “Do not worry I can get it for you.”
With that, he was under the table, retrieved the lost card, picked up my flip flop and replaced it on my foot. Once I had regained the upright position and regained my dignity, I said, “Now Cinderella shall go to the ball; the shoe fits.”
The whole café burst into laughter. My poor husband said, “Thank you,” to the gentleman, and “Come on; let’s get out of here,” to me. I turned to my Prince Charming, saying, “Thank you for rescuing me. I would like to give you this WobblingPen card in thanks. I am a Storyteller and you might find something on the site to amuse you and your friend during boring travelling time waits.” They were delighted; we shook hands and left, heading for the cash machine.
I hate cash machines and normally use them only in the bank or Post Office, but need must. “Please do not gobble up my card, or flood me with too many things to press, and yes, I do want a receipt, thanks.”
Talking to the machine: do you do that? I can’t be the only one!
Thankfully, someone thought I had had enough for one day, and cash and receipt appeared on command. We then made our way, uneventfully, back home.
2023 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
Another well-organised day that unravelled itself into chaos.
I arose early to sort out Lily the cat who wishes to be mine, and almost is, and have some playtime with her, before a hectic schedule of events.
First, my carer was late not her fault, they scheduled a client at an impossible travelling distance to one another, unless you used a helicopter. 8am became 9am. To almost 10am.
I asked my cleaners to come earlier as I was expecting old friends on a visit at 10.30. They kindly arranged to arrive at 9am. So with both events activated for 9am, everyone was using the bathrooms and water at the same time. My husband and I showered upstairs and down, cleaner nipping in where we had vacated.
Finally, everyone had completed what they had to and restored the house to order. The carer left first, and then we heard a great deal of big vehicle backing noises. On investigating saw a large lorry with hoisting equipment trying to manoeuvre in through the gates to deliver some hefty concrete slabs for the next-door's new kitchen build.
The only problem was they had not notified us of their intentions, and very successfully trapped my cleaning team, unable to proceed to their next client.
As the lorry backed out, it just grazed one of the gate pillars knocking the top and the electric light out of place.
Just as we absorbed that situation, a message arrived on my iPad. Our friends were frazzled after a night of hotel evacuation, due to fire alarms being triggered by a guest smoking in the bedroom. Three times they were alerted with one full evacuation in their bed attire.
So they asked if they could come a little later. 11.15am. Disaster the time gap was narrowing, as we had to leave at 12.45am for Worthing for a dental appointment for my young man at 2.15pm.
The little lad across the road brought him from school unwell to join the community and parking chaos.
Some a passable cold lunch was prepared and shared together before we had to separate and go our ways.
Hugging our guests and waving them off, before racing to lock up the house and leave ourselves. However, a great big concrete mixer arrived blocking out the lane, where my young man had parked our car. Stalemate, the driver had to back into the main road to let us out. It was a tight squeeze but we made it.
At last, we were out in the open road heading for the dentist, for my young man and to see our adopted family on their return from their holiday in Rhodes. We listened as they related all their.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully, with a companionable, drive home in the dark. Until almost home when a warning light came on the dashboard to warn of a tyre problem. Thankfully we had just purred into our drive at this point and decided to let sleeping dogs lie till the morning.
2023 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
