It was the last day of the five-day steroid programme today and while I am more grateful than I can say for the way the little red pills have dried up the last of my winter cough and boosted my general feeling of well-being (You remember well-being? Something that happened last year some time?), I’m happy to have finished the programme.
This time I had side-effects.
“Your face has gone fat,” Graham stated.
“You mean fatter than usual?”
“Yeah. Lots. And it’s purplish-white.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
“Just telling it how it is.”
“You wait until you need sympathy. I shall show you.”
“No you won’t.”
“How do you know that?”
“It’s not the sort of thing you do.”
Ah well. No a bad compliment that for a bloke who’s just survived a lousy, shitty winter: ”Not the sort of thing you do.”
Now I need to pop vitamins and minerals, take some regular exercise, and get a load of fresh air into my lungs. There are cobwebbed areas in my lungs I’d rather not think about.
It’s a funny old world just now, and a chap could get worried about G20s, random shootings, stabbing and bashings, and the firings of inter-continental ‘rockets’ for the fun of it. I’m more concerned with the impossible yellow of the celandines in the sun and the way the violets know just when to duck their heads when the mower passes over. And, oblivious, learn to keep my head down in much the same way.
Sounds like your poor face, according to Graham, is a bit like a violet.
We live a short distance from the deranged shooter in Binghamton, NY and not too far from the other deranged shooter in Pittsburg, and I think there has been a third deranged shooter somewhere in the US this weekend, hopefully not more, and you, OGP, and what you write, remain a breath of srping air and sunshine.
Steroids are such a mixed blessing, aren’t they? Glad they did the job and hope the side effects pass off quickly.
Oh my gosh I had forgotten all about violets! I’ve one a pool gal gave me and it has yet to bloom, it’s in a pot. A white violet she said. But I remember lying in the grass finding violets among the dandelion.
Nothing lovelier to me than wild violets. And, John, your poetic side is out in full force and doing extremely nicely in your entry for today. I am especially charmed with your reference to the cleverness of violets and their ability to duck the mower. ‘Tis true!
I’d like to say something witty here, but between Gary, Wendy, Bonnie and Mary Lee – They’ve covered everything I was going to say…
Glad you’re feeling better, John.
We here are brave and moved our violets to a different windowsill. Freshening things for spring here.
It’s good that in this funny old world there’s a poet reminding us of the context of realities!
“I’m more concerned with the impossible yellow of the celandines in the sun and …” Oh God but aren’t you right John. So right.
Amen, John! Aware enough of the bad news lately to be aware that I’d rather be aware of violets and celandines. They (and their other flora and fauna brethren) keep us sane. And poets like you, of course. Thank you for your words each day. I look forward to them like a cool drink.
Blessings on you, John, for reminding us all of tht importance of seeing beauty. This was my weekend to putter off to Japan and see the blooming trees on the way. It was lovely.