Things I Didn’t Understand

Things I didn’t understand ~

questions unanswered 

asking why of no use because 

the answer was ‘because’ 

But there were ideas

I just let float away 

ideas stacked around my life 

unopened books on shelves, 

unused dishes in cupboards. 

Ideas 

about designing gowns, 

about being a journalist, 

about being a linguist ~ 

too big for this little girl 

too far out of reach. 

What I did not understand were 

moods, emotions and 

how to understand others,

why I learned differently 

not as fast as others. 

But I filled expectations, 

like setting the table for a meal, 

practicing piano or 

getting cleaned up for church, 

going to school. 

I didn’t understand how to be, 

but I understood how to do. 

“Doing” carried me a long way

Today in retirement I can learn how to be. 

“No one will understand you. It is not ultimately that important, 

What is important is that you understand you.”

~ Matt Haig,  The Humans

It Hurts!

It hurts ~

to even think 

about our history 

gobbled up 

as a mere commodity 

when, as immigrants to 

both countries, our ancestors 

left the homes of their birth

to sail thousands of miles

to be sprung free to learn a new land, 

to build new homes and communities 

that nurtured generations of families 

who are now faced with 

a nightmare of nothingness 

because someone sees us only 

as a commodity.

“There is just so much hurt, disappointment and oppression 

one can take… the line between reason and madness grows thinner.

~ Rosa Parks

From Beneath

Reason is just a little brown mouse that creeps from beneath the edges of emotion, nosing about for a piece of cheese, but instead finds only ecstasies of joy, or maybe depths of despair wishing to push this furry fellow aside to soar or dive. The little rodent could be considered quite a pest or simply be called reason.

“A little mouse of thought appears in a room, and 

even the mightiest potentates are thrown into panic. 

They make frantic efforts to bar our thoughts and word; 

they are afraid of the workings of the human mind.”

~ Winston Churchill

Rent Free?

Should I be anxious? 

Should I be scared? 

Should I be angry?

Should I let someone 

or something live 

rent free in my head? 

It’s hard not to when 

all swirls doom-like  

around the world as 

the wild unruly wind today. 

By the way, it was 

34 kilometres per hour

Today changed for me

only in what I wore and 

how long I walked in the 

wind. The wind still blows 

whether by man or nature. 

Rent free? I think not.

“Don’t give in to your fears. If you do, 

you won’t be able to talk to your heart.”

~ Paul Coelho, The Alchemist

Threatened

Nerves of steel wrap 

themselves around 

explosive emotions. 

When barely controlled 

hilarity, red-eyed anger 

or deep grief 

threaten to toss reason 

to the wind, these nerves

of steel, forged in 

an instant, disappear 

as quickly when threat 

of explosion is gone.

“After great pain, a formal feeling comes. 

The Nerves sit ceremonious, like tombs.”

~ Emily Dickinson

Two Sides of the Street

Loneliness and solitude are two completely different things. I have felt them both. When I am lonely, I feel cut off, unloved and unwanted; feeling very sorry for myself, and that no one really understands me or wants to understand me. It’s a very bleak, frightening and empty feeling. Beauty and joy are singed badly around the edges. Incredibly melodramatic! 

When I am in a state of solitude, I feel whole. Excited about life, I know I am loved and wanted. As far as that cut off feeling? It’s my responsibility to reach out to others. Reaching out can be because I am lonely, or because I’ve not connected with my loved ones, or both. Disconnection does go two ways. In a state of solitude, even the tiniest flower is beautiful. My heart will feel joy in my world as it is; great sadness for the tragedies in the lives of others.

There is narrow path between the two states of being. Maybe they are two sides of the same street. Solitude going on too long can slide silently into loneliness. Just like a treasured gift ~ if solitude is not appreciated and cherished, it can become a dark and broken loneliness. 

“I hold this to be the highest task for a bond between two people; 

that each protects the solitude of the other.”

~ Rainer Maria Rilke

Chapter Two, Episode Two - Dez's Story - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update

This episode, Dez's Story, was an enjoyable read this morning. After the many months of this saga Situationally Theirs, hearing from one character at a time develops another layer to the story. It is recommended by writing scholars, that when writing a book, pieces such as these weekly character episodes, should be done. They may not be included in the final draft, but for the author, and the reader, it does provide deeper character development. 

No revisions were required for this mornings review of Dez's Story (Chapter Two, Episode Two).

Dez's Story

The gathering was small, but cheerful. Everyone filled their plates from the sideboard laden with roast beef, mashed potatoes, fresh corn on the cob and a big green salad. Samuel had provided Elizabeth with fresh produce from the Beaufort garden. For dessert, apple pie with ice cream or a nice sharp cheddar cheese. Digby had called a Staff meeting; Cook busied herself preparing their traditional Staff Meeting meal. There was only one thing on the agenda. Digby read from the letter he had received from their Storyteller:  I find that my time has become too compromised for giving my previous daily visits the justice each of you deserve. My visits to the Estate will only be once a week from now on. “It seems we have ‘talked that poor Storyteller’s ear off’. Those were your words, weren’t they, Martha? So we will begin tonight to tell our own stories. Hopefully that will ease some of the Storyteller's burden” James smiled kindly at his wife then looked at his friends seated around the kitchen table. “I’ve invited both Miss Emelina and Miss Dez to the meeting because they were at the beginning of our story. Because Miss Dez was the first to tell her story - when was that? March? Six months ago? - she has agreed to begin. Miss Dez, you have the floor….as long as you’re finished eating.” 

Dez swallowed the last bite of mashed potatoes. A second helping, she had made a ‘gravy volcano’ and had carefully deconstructed it. “It’s a childhood thing……..” She grinned. “Time to get serious though. Thanks, Cook and thank you Digby.” 

Dez pushed her chair back and stood up. “I’m feeling a bit nervous, so if no one minds I’ll stand. I didn’t make any notes and I’m not sure what you want me to say, so I’ll just begin.” Standing behind her chair, nervously gripping it she started talking. “When I  woke up the morning of my failed ‘bank job’ I had no idea what would follow. My sister and I hadn’t seen or heard from each other for over ten years.” Looking over at her sister, she smiled. “I’ll back up a bit. I really didn’t know much about the pandemic except that stores were closing. I knew it had something to do with that. Later in the day, when I was flat on my back on the bank floor being sprayed with Lysol and chained to a desk, my mind raced back to Em when we played silly kid games, games that were fun. This wasn’t fun and it wasn’t a game. I was scared. Someone once said ‘never let’em see you sweat' and I've agreed with that so the two security guards didn’t see that I was embarrassed and absolutely terrified.” Dez hung her head just for a second, took a deep breath and continued. “The second thing that frightened me, was later that same night in police holding, when the police asked who my next of kin was. About to say ‘no one’, I stopped. That same terrified feeling was there again and I whispered ‘I have a sister’.” Her mouth dry, Dez took a sip of water. “He asked where she was. I had to say I didn’t know, forgetting that her name and number were on my cell phone. Feeling so alone in that holding cell behind bars, I thought I would have no place to go.” The room had gone silent, no one had seen Miss Dez like this before. “I just needed someone tell me what to do. Long story short. The police officer found Emelina’s phone number on my cell phone, buried in with all my other contacts, conveniently forgotten. There were only two choices for me - three really - the police would send me to a motel up island; with my estranged sister; or on the street until I could get in my apartment. I let the police officer make the call because I was still hanging on to being mad at Em for something: I was just being stubborn.” Dez walked to her sister and put her hand on her shoulder. Emelina covered Dez's hand with her own.“If you hadn’t come to my rescue that night, I don’t know where I’d be today.” Looking at her new found friends she said softly “Certainly not here with all of you who have become like family to me. I guess that’s all I have Digby. …..I just want all of you to stay well and happy. I’m just  glad to be part of this family and this little community. Digby, you’re better stop me now before I keep babbling any more than I already am. “ Dez grabbed a tissue and dabbed at her eyes. “If at anytime you need anything call me. Do you have my phone number?….No?..some of you do. Digby, do you have………”

“Already done, Miss Dez. Here’s your copy. Everyone has your phone number and you have ours.” Digby turned to Cook. “Is that pie ready, Elizabeth? I think we’ve been serious enough for tonight.”

And with that, the meeting was adjourned. 

“Owning our story and loving ourselves through 

that process is the bravest thing that we will ever do.”

~ Brené Brown

Chapter One, Episode 40 - "All the Words' - Situationally Theirs

June 15, 2020

Review, Edit and Update

As skilled as James Digby is at his job as butler, he is as unskilled at even recognizing emotion. ‘All the Words’ brushes away his professional persona and reveals another side of this quiet man.

Sentence structure has been improved as well as punctuation removed and/or added. I took out one or two words that were missed on the original posting.

'All the Words'

James Edward Digby had arrived at the Beaufort mansion at 8:30am. Dezperanza Eliot, sister to Emelina Beaufort, was another early arrival and was expecting Matt Fraser, a local orchardist. She had gone out to the orchard, no matter that grey skies threatened to keep watering grass and trees. Digby continued on through the mudroom and into the very roomy kitchen. He was very familiar with all the workings of this usually busy kitchen. Covid19 had scattered everyone to their homes, making this kitchen seem almost hollow with Martha and Cook’s presence missing. Giles Thornton, the chauffeur had promised to meet him here at 9a.m. for coffee, a cinnamon bun and to give Digby some advice. Digby did not know anything about affairs of the heart. He had turned to Giles for advice. Giles was really Digby’s only friend. A friend he trusted. 

James set about making coffee, put cinnamon buns in the toaster oven to warm and set out mugs, plates and napkins for both of them. While reaching in the cupboard for the plates, Digby stopped and listened. He thought he heard a gentle sob but there was only silence. He set the plates on the table, he heard the same sob. He looked up. The door to Martha Haverstock’s room opened then closed quietly. Martha was the Beaufort Estate Housekeeper. A hold over position from old Mrs. Beaufort’s attempt to maintain a Downstairs staff. "Martha. Is that you?" Silence "Mrs. Beaufort? Are you here?"

“No James, it's me. Martha.” Her voice was quiet, her tone almost muffled. She forced a smile. “Did you hear me sniffling away? These allergies are so bothersome at this time of year. I won’t disturb you. I see you have two mugs out.” Martha had seen the mugs when she opened the door and saw Digby.

“Yes, I’m expecting Giles this morning. We need to discuss an important issue.” James felt quite uncomfortable, as though he had been caught doing something wrong.

“Oh, that’s good. Is it about our returning to work?” Martha was also feeling quite awkward. She searched around for something to say.

“Well, we do need to discuss whether we still need all three vehicles. As Giles is the one to drive and service them, I thought he would be the best one for advice.” This was not at all the issue that needed Giles input. Digby moved the mugs from the table to beside the coffee machine and then back again. “Of course, Mrs. Beaufort will have the final say, but I want Giles to give me his input on that issue.” James had run out of words, felt he had more that need saying, but didn’t know what. So he rearranged the two plates on the table, picked them up and put them beside the toaster oven. “Do you know which cupboard the butter is in, or is it in the refrigerator?”

“It should be in the refrigerator, James. Because no one is here very often. It might go rancid if it’s left out.” Martha didn’t know why she was babbling on so. “Well, I’m just going to slip out the back door and take my sniffly nose home. I just needed to drop off some things. And James, don’t forget to put the butter away in the refrigerator.”

“Take care of yourself, Martha. I do hope you feel better.” James and Martha, almost fearful, maintained a great distance from each other. 

~~~~~

Giles Thornton, chauffeur for the Beaufort Estate, whistled tunelessly as he drove out to the country. He didn’t really think much of the pretence at grandeur at his place of employ. However, he let that all slip by, because he was employed. His job? Drive his boss wherever she wanted to go in which ever car. Make sure all three vehicles were in good running order and clean. Be cheerful and pleasant. Cheerful and pleasant was the way Giles had been since birth. He really didn’t know what James wanted his advice on, but he was certain it had to do with Martha. He and Digby had shared many things over the years, most often family events with his sons. James Digby was almost like an uncle to them. That was often when the professional mask James wore was put carefully in his back pocket. He was like a different man with the boys.

There was one other time when Giles had seen real emotion from James. Martha had been present as well. It was a sad event, the funeral of James’ only brother. That day was especially hard for him. Giles stopped whistling as he remembered that day. Digby looked like a crumpled old man as he stood at his brother’s grave site. This was a situation that, for James, all the diplomacy and correctness would not help him. Digby stood still, in his black wool topcoat, a navy scarf tucked neatly around his neck. He was hatless, an errant breeze dared to ruffle his hair. Digby would not allow himself to cry. His jaw was set as though in stone. Giles had never seen him look so tortured. He wanted to just put his hand on James’ shoulder in comfort, but felt a firm barrier that protected Digby from any form of human contact. Except when Martha had come to him. She patted his chest over his heart. “It will be all right, James. Not today. But it will be all right.” Digby’s jaw softened almost imperceptibly, he took his clenched hands out of his coat pockets. “Thank you, Martha”  His face closed again. “Giles, take James home. Get him something stronger than a cup of tea. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.” Martha was pleased to know that Digby had a friend in Giles, not just a driver. Martha dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief, already damp with tears. 

~~~~

Giles drove his Honda CRV around the mansion to the back. Just as he stepped on the ground, he heard the back door close. Looking up, he saw Martha. She looked like she’d been crying. “Are you all right, Martha”

“It’s just allergies, Giles. James is in there waiting for you. I think the coffee is ready.” Martha brushed by Giles almost pushing him aside. “Ok Martha. Thanks. You sure you’re ok?”

“Yes Giles. You just go on in there. James is waiting for you.”

~~~~~

“James, what did you do to Martha? She was crying when she came out the door.” Giles had a grin on his face. He knew James would never hurt Martha, but he just couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

“I did nothing. She was already upset by something else. She wouldn’t tell me what it was. It was really quite awkward, Giles. That’s really ….. well, I mean, ……she is something…… there is something about her that, well, disturbs me. I don’t seem to know what to say to her, unless we are working. What do you suppose is wrong with me?”

Giles desperately wanted to burst out laughing, but could tell that James Edward Digby has met his match. This was definitely no laughing matter. “Well, James. I think that, how should I put this….I think that you’re in love with Martha. I also think that you might be frightened feeling this way and right now, you’ve filled my mug and it’s running all over the table.” Giles jumped up, grabbed a roll of paper towels and began mopping it all up. James looked stunned. He sat down abruptly, the now empty coffee pot still in his hand. “I suppose I should make more coffee, Giles?”

Once the mess had been wiped up and another pot of coffee on, the two men stepped out on the back porch. “You really think that is my problem, Giles?”

“James, it’s not a problem. Your problem might be you. Martha is not a problem to be fixed. How you feel about her is not a problem to be fixed. What you want to do about how you feel about Martha as a woman, not the Housekeeper, is maybe the issue. Not a problem. An issue”

“Giles, I just don’t know what to do. How to talk. What will people say?”

Their conversation continued in the kitchen for most of the morning. Giles was not sure that James had yet grasped that he didn’t have to do or be something special. Because of this social distancing and closed restaurants, a dinner date was out of the question. “James, I have to be back at the house to relieve Melanie. She’s been entertaining our sons while I’ve been out here with you. She has a class to teach over Zoom this afternoon. She needs time for her lunch and a little relax. Give a picnic some thought. I’ll give some thought to how to help you out. Martha is a good person and she cares for you. You will be ok.”

“…I gave you painted air - tears I couldn’t weep - truths I couldn’t speak

 - all the words that caught in my throat….”

~ John Geddes, A Familiar Rain

Rocketman - Musical Movie Review directed by Dexter Fletcher

Rocketman is gritty, real and flamboyantly poignant. Rocketman, while not a musical biography, is definitely a musical about the emotional, drug and alcohol fuelled roller coaster that was Elton John’s life. The opening number is Elton John (Taron Egerton), dressed in an orange, winged Satan suit and wearing rose-coloured, heart-shaped glasses, bursting into a therapy session in a large, bare room. A counsellor and a circle of participants listen as the story unfolds. As a child, from age five, Reggie Dwight (Matthew Illesley) displayed his musical abilities at home, but was discouraged by oppressive *parents. His *Nana was his only support and ultimately encouraged him in entering the Royal Academy of Music, in London, England to study piano. A significant musical number was with each family member, in the family home, separately singing of their own longings and pain. Five year old Reggie Dwight took centre stage in his neat short pants, suit jacket and tie. He ‘became’ Elton John in the early stages of his musical career, leaving little Reggie behind until the final scenes. This movie does not sugar coat any sex scenes. Elton John came out as homosexual in his early career and embraced the LGBTQ community, He fell in love with music manager, John Reid (Richard Madden) who preyed on young Elton. Their affair was not to last and contributed to the pain of Elton John’s (Taron Egerton) life. However, Bernie Taupin (Jamie Bell) who wrote lyrics with Elton John remained his one true and solid friend to this day. As I watched this powerful movie, with sex, drugs, alcohol and outrageous costumes, I noticed a certain cinematic darkness overshadowing the brilliant flamboyance. The end of the movie was in brilliant sunshine, on a beach with Elton John (Taron Egerton) singing ‘I’m Still Standing’ written in 1983 prior to this movie and Elton John’s now 28 years of sobriety. 

“At heart I’ve always been a music fan. That part of me has 

never changed since I was a little kid, sitting in a room 

watching a record go round, looking at the colour of the labels.”

~ Elton John

Director - Dexter Fletcher

Written by - Lee Hall

Executive Producers  - Elton John and Brian Oliver

Co-producers - David Furnish and Adam Bohling

Partial Cast

Sharon D. Clark - Counselor

Taron Egerton - adult Elton John/Reggie Dwight

Matthew Illesley - young Reggie 

Kit Connor - older Reggie

Jamie Bell - Bernie Taupin

Richard Madden - John Reid

*Bryce Dallas Howard - Sheila (Elton’s mother)

*Gemma Jones - Ivy (Elton’s nana)

*Steven Mackintosh - Stanley (Elton’s father)

Tate Donovan - Doug Weston (manager of the Troubadour nightclub, L.A.)

Songs from Rocketman - Music & lyrics by Elton John & Bernie Taupin

The Bitch is Back (1974)

I Want Love (2001)

Saturday Night’s Alright (1973

Thank You for All Your Loving (1968)

Border Song (1970)

Rock & Roll Madonna (1970)

Your Song (1970)

Amoreena (1971

Crocodile Rock (1972) 

Tiny Dancer (1971)

Take Me to the Pilot (1970)

Hercules (1972)

Don’t Go Breaking My Heart (1976)

Honky Cat (1972)

Pinball Wizard (1975

Rocket Man (I Think It’s Going to Be a Long, Long Time) (1972)

Bennie and the Jets (1973)

Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me (1974)

Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word (1976

Goodby Yellow Brick Road (1973)

I’m Still Standing (1983)

(I’m Gonna) Love Me Again (2019) - written specifically for Rocketman