I’ve been a bit poorly of late but I’m on the mend now, (the not-terrible stage of recovery) so here’s another of my ‘things I have thunked’ posts …
First up, another entry into the Secret Lives Of Inanimate Objects … (that I briefly indulged in, in my previous post)
The tealeaf limped to the edge of the pot,
Done in by water too hot.
And bravely clung to the lip and looked out,
Across the tea-tray that cared not one jot.
For tea-trays thought themselves above all of that,
Concerned only for appearances sake.
The shape of the jug, the position of the spoon,
And the perfectly sliced piece of cake.
Undaunted, the tealeaf persisted,
In its quest for the meaning beyond.
And it wriggled and squiggled to the tea-tray below
And landed before that worthy could respond.
But our tealeaf never got any further,
Because the tray was emptied down the sink.
And down through the pipes the tealeaf was washed,
To the sewer below before it could blink.
Our adventurer was in big trouble now,
‘Cause all manner of monsters lurked down there.
Made up of the things humans flushed down their pipes,
All bound for who-knew-where.
The tealeaf scrunched itself into a ball,
That monsters could never find.
And thusly escaping their clutches,
Until it was long gone, out of sight and of mind.
(Well, this turned out rather more dramatic than I anticipated. It initially began as part of the internal dialogue my fevered mind kept me awake with during the above mentioned ‘poorly-ness’. For five very long hours one night it was running through showtunes from just about every musical I’ve ever seen – The Sound of Music, (of course – Julie Andrews being my first girl-crush) Brigadoon, Calamity Jane, (Doris Day being a close second) Chicago, Cabaret, Oklahoma, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, (I mean, what’s a good sing-a-long if it doesn’t include at least one song) Phantom Of The Opera, Mary Poppins, (Julie, again) The Rose (classic Bette Midler) just to name a few, and in amongst all that, somehow, the story of the tealeaf was born … anyway, back to the story …)
Long days passed, and alone in the dark,
The tealeaf sang every song that it knew.
To distract itself from grief and regret,
And hoping its spirit to renew.
But tealeaves don’t live forever,
No matter how hard they pine.
By the time it reached the end of the pipe,
It had reached the edge of the line.
As the sun set over the ocean blue,
The tealeaf looked out on a vista so vast.
Its adventure had ended, as adventures do,
And it decomposed, at peace, at last.
But that isn’t the end of its story,
For in its breast it had nurtured a seed.
That sprouted and grew with green leaves unfurled
Until someone called it a weed.
Just as this new life was about to be uprooted,
By someone who a gardener, was not.
A screech and a caterwaul stayed their hand just in time,
And the seedling planted tenderly in a pot.
It now sits in a sunny corner
Of a Garden, on a shelf, with a view
Awaiting its uncertain future
Which will probably conclude in a brew.
-oOo-
My first visit to an orthopedic surgeon, (a bloke with the unfortunate name of ‘Butcher’) will be at the end of this month, April! … call me gobsmacked! I wasn’t expecting anything to happen for at least another six months.
This visit’s just a ‘getting to know you’ sort of thing … he’ll peer at my x-rays and poke/prod/bend my knees in all sorts of ways they will certainly not approve of … I’ll concentrate very hard on not tensing up as my pain threshold is trampled over … and we’ll discuss the next steps forward.
-oOo-
A little something from Mother Nature to remind me that although the snow has now melted down to only about a meter deep, and it rained wet watery stuff the other day, we’re still only reaching daytime temperatures of around 5°C …
A snowstorm …
Widdershins Worlds 
Your ongoing snow looks very dismal, even more so the wet sort. Can’t be good for the knees either. Hope your appointment reaps some positive assistance.
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That is a perfect rendition of semi-delirium. I trust you are well now. I hope all goes well with the Butcher. That was a nice gentle video
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Quite a different snow-fall from the mid-winter ones – these flakes seem in a great hurry to get to the ground 🙂
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Getting to know you with the butcher sounds reassuring… make a long list of questions before you get there!
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40 year’s worth. 🙂
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The cycle of life… Love the journey of the tea leaf. I hope everything goes well with your Butcher, ha ha ha, I couldn’t resist! Should I take this time to tell you that the weather the other day was just under 30°? I’m bad. But tomorrow they’re calling for 8°.
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That sounds about right.
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Here is a comment you might appreciate:
I have a cousin William. Up until the age of 30, he was a well-paid computer guy, but he’d always wanted to be an orthopedic surgeon. So, with the blessing of wife and kids, he left his job, went to med school, took the training, and by ten years later was an orthopedic surgeon!
At which point, and after practicing for a while, he decided the family name – Butcher, and being Dr. Butcher – was a problem. So, again with the blessing of the whole family (extended included), he went back to the original family name – Mezaros (which means butcher in the original Hungarian) – with his wife and kids, and Dr. Mezaros is doing well as far as I know!
I took my form of name, Alicia Butcher Ehrhardt, when I married halfway through grad school; I didn’t want to be Dr. Butcher, either (too many stupid jokes), and preferred not to be Dr. Alicia Ehrhardt (you have NO idea how many Earnharts and Earharts – no, I’m not related to Amelia – there are out there).
It has been rough. When I finally got the IRS to use my proper name, after years, they then changed the name ‘space’ on their forms so that the last two letters of Ehrhardt didn’t fit.
All government stuff has name problems – I keep telling them I’m not who they want to call me – and telling anyone who will listen that if the check is signed Alicia ‘B.’ Ehrhardt I’ve been kidnapped and they need to tell the police!
The hated ‘Alicia Ehrhardt’ appears on medical records, driver’s license, and anything I don’t get to choose. I bet billionaire J. Paul Getty hated being called John P. Getty on all HIS paperwork. Sigh. You win some, you lose some, and you find out who is your friend in the process.
Now if I’d just thought to change it to Mezaros early on, I would have avoided SOME of this. Because, of course, I would have had to spell it every single time.
Be kind to your Dr. Butcher; he could probably use it.
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Heh, I’m going to womanfully restrain myself from any comment, unless he opens the floor first.
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Also, I was SO looking forward to Mrs. Clinton being President – she had planned to be Hillary Rodham Clinton forever more – it would have made things a wee bit easier.
Another bad thing to blame 45 for.
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Yeah, I think even the possibility of a woman president in our lifetimes has faded under the weight of all the dick-waggery going on, on all sides of any political ‘debate’ these days.
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There is a way, an easy way. We’ll see.
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I’m so sorry – you lost me at this concept of medical care for summat such as knees. What? Eh? Does not compute.
In matters nomenclature related, I brushed back the tide for a few of my early years of being referred to as ‘Hudson’ and not ‘Hutson’ – and then I realised perhaps it was for the best if bureaucrats and the masters of high commerce had me on their systems with a misspelt moniker… Decades ago, in the time before I gave up interacting with the species, humans would often refer to me vocally as ‘Huston’… H-uh-ston, we have a problem. The only name that I answer to these days is the rustling of a healthy twenty pound note, and that’s impossible to spell in all but Cantonese. On all Police and Court forms I favour ‘John Smith of No Fixed Abode’.
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I’ve been blessed with living in two countries where the public health system is, if not fully functional, then at least supportive of such endeavours … after suitably eye-rolling waits, of course.
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Getting a new knee is a wonderful thing. Good luck!
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I don’t fancy the surgery part of it, but not being in pain all the time will be wonderful. I’d even settle for significently LESS pain. 🙂
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lol – I like your tea leaf! Plucky little thing and deserving of a happy ending-ish.
I have to ask though, what were you sick with? The dread lurgy or the dread Covid?
Glad you’re on the mend and that you’ll get some sunshine soon, maybe. -hugs-
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Not really sure what it was, but it looks like Mrs Widds has it now. We both tested for Covid but came up negative – there’s some sort of very nasty tummy-bug virus/flu thing doing the rounds at the moment, so who knows …
I think Covid opened up a whole new bunch of pathways for pernicious viruses (viri-ii?) to engage with us. Combine that with rapidly changing environments, extreme weather events, etc, I suspect the world has become some sort of petrie dish for the little buggers.
I’m hoping that our inate adaptability, that’s allowed us to survive since, well, forever, 🙂 will allow enough of us to adapt and survive as a species.
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Ugh. I’m glad it wasn’t Covid, but it sounds as if it’s bad enough, whatever it is. Wish Mrs Widds a speedy recovery and drink lots of tea with honey and real lemon juice. -hugs-
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Relief from pain. That’s really number one. All else follows.
The video: Mmmmm………sigh 🙂
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Spring has been late here too. (I think it’s supposed to show up next weekend). Glad to hear you’re on the mend. And thanks for the Tea Leaf poem!
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What a poignant poem. That poor tea leaf. I am now eyeing my morning tea bag in a completely different way. Mine goes the way of the compost bin, saving the harrowing journey through the pipes. Perhaps I am denying them the opportunity to see the ocean? Maybe I’m saving some grief? The coffee grounds (yuck) do get dumped unceremoniously down the drain, but I’m not sure anyone will lament their passing quite the same as the lonely tea leaf.
Good luck on your poking and prodding! From what I hear from my friends with new knees and hips is, don’t keep your pain inside! Let the butcher, I mean Dr. Butcher, know how much it hurts. It helps with their planning.
I look forward to hearing how it went, and I hope you have medical plan soon.
Take care,
Alisen
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