Spring and the Dogwoods Flower.

Letter From The Other Side; from Cynthia

Dear Del,

There was something I saw this week but I’m not sure what it was.

Perhaps an explanation is in order here.

We have a big new supermarket in our village. It was not welcomed by many of the small businesses or the population but their protests were swept away by the powers that decide such changes and of course the supermarket was built.

True to many of the fears voiced, there have been butchers close, greengrocers close and the hardware store and other variety stores run by small business people are struggling to survive as the tourists who keep the town ticking over, unwittingly help strangle the economy by using the giant supermarket they are familiar with in the city.

Many of the local people also enter its doors to buy products they have not been able to previously purchase without travelling some distance. Some go in initially out of curiosity, like mice approaching the cheese in a trap and soon become beguiled by the enormous range and ease of buying everything they need under one roof. Soon it becomes a habit and they remain in its clutches..

I too was in there picking up some products I would have had to travel some distance to purchase so I admit to not being immune.

It was here while perusing the vast variety of cheeses that I saw a young mother who was, I think, in the store for the first time.

Many people here have not enjoyed sophisticated shopping experiences and come into the town from extremely small settlements where they recognise and can put a name to every face they see.

What I watched was this young woman leaving her trolley in the middle of the isle with her hand bag open for passers by to peer into. She walked the entire length of the isle to pick up something she had already passed.

I stood watching partly from concern because it would be an unthinkable act in the suburbs where one clutches one’s handbag tightly under an arm having been warned by signs posted everywhere about shoplifters and the dangers of leaving goods and handbags unattended.

I worried for her belongings wondering why she would just walk off. Was it forgetfulness, a lack of experience in shopping in the supermarket situation, a lack of intelligence, a naive trust in everyone about her?

When I came home I kept thinking about what I had seen. A simple silly act you may say, but not really when you begin to think about it.

To me it is something that would have been accepted as normal years ago because we did trust one another more and people did respect other people’s belongings and property more.

It is a pleasure to think there are still some who have that attitude but I wonder how long it will be before this girl loses her trust in others and in what nasty way it will happen.

The other thing that struck me was that despite the opportunity that any practiced and quick witted thief would have taken of the goodies which could have been so easily been snatched because of her negligence, not one person looked or even gave any indication of noticing the open handbag or showed any inclination of even thinking about removing a purse or mobile phone from it.

So while I initially thought about the young woman and hope she will continue for a long time to feel so safe and trusting, I also began to appreciate the other shoppers in the store.

It is good to see little things sometimes, they often say a great deal about people and places.

Sometimes the small things we see disappoint and sadden us but it is very uplifting to see the pleasant and good.

What were the lyrics the Beatles sang?

‘What the world needs now is love, sweet love.’

There is quite a deal out there, we just have to see more of it.

From your ‘flower child’ friend

Cynthia

Letter From The Other Side; from Cynthia

Dear Del,
Trying to do a kind deed can lead one into all sorts of difficulties Teddy discovered this week.

I think I have said previously that he is quite deaf. Well, to be really honest he is very deaf and it results in some most peculiar conversations in our house at times that can then accelerate into robust debates and a state of huffiness on one side or the other between us.
For instance last week on a day we were walking about in light clothing because of the mild weather, I asked him as he walked up to our study to turn on my printer.

An hour later when I eventually had time to go to my computer in the study I entered to find the printer not on as requested but the heater pumping out stiflingly hot air.

“Why did he not question my wanting a heater on when I was obviously not feeling the cold?” I asked. No answer for a while and then after he had time to think.
“Because I’m not the sort of husband who questions your motives for anything am I? I just do as you ask knowing you would have a good reason.”
Very cunning reply I had to grant him.

Well later in the week we were shopping or, I should say, I was shopping and Teddy was sitting in the car waiting in the car park.
He looked up and saw an echidna making it way across the asphalt toward a car parked in the line of vehicles in front of us. There it stayed underneath to rest in the shade. Thinking it would be killed if the driver returned to his car Teddy decided to rescue the small animal and put it back over into the trees and grass which shade the shopping centre. He was sure it was confused by its unfamiliar surroundings and since it is spring it would probably have young and was resting while out on food foraging jaunt. Taking a short cut through the car park was a very dangerous decision on its part.
He told me of the results of his decision to save it later on after he had recovered from his embarrassment.

He left our car and knelt down on the asphalt to look under the car that the echidna was hiding beneath. He could see it nestled hard up against the driver’s side wheel. Not having anything of much use to put it in or grab it with he tried to use a shopping bag but the little thing held onto the rough surface with a surprisingly strong grip. Its needles were far too sharp and difficult to grab so he thought he would try nudging it backwards into a bag and returned to our car for an umbrella to help extend his reach.

Once again he crawled under the chassis leaving only his bottom and legs poking out from under the car. He heard footsteps and then a woman’s voice asking what he was doing. Thinking it was me he replied he was saving a life.

The woman asked ‘Who’s life?’
“This little fellow,” he called back.
“I want to get in the car and I think you had better get out.’
“Don’t be daft woman, he’ll get killed if I leave him here. Have some patience will you?’
“Will you please get out from under there? I want to go home.”
“Don’t just stand there then do something useful’ he called back, “have a look to see if you can find anything I can use to get hold of him.”
“I’m not getting anything and I don’t think this is funny, so get out.”
“What? You think I’m comfortable lying under here do you? It’s bloody uncomfortable and the dam thing won’t let me grab it.”
He felt a sharp nudge to his leg. “If you don’t get out from under my car, I’ll go across the road and get the police.”

He froze realizing his assumption it was me speaking was incorrect.
A second female voice asked the first one what was going on.
“This person is under my car and won’t get out.”
“What’s he doing under there? Is he mad do you think?” the second woman asked somewhat hopefully.
“I don’t know if he’s mad.” The first replied, “but he’s making me mad.”
“He might be one of them terrorists they keep talking about” The second mused.
“Don’t be silly, he’s probably drunk which is disgusting this time of the day.” The first woman answered angrily.

Teddy stopped the rescue attempt and turned his head enough to see two pairs of ankles he didn’t recognise.

Crab-like he crawled backwards, dislodging his glasses so that when he sat up they hung from one ear across his scarlet face as he tried to peer through the one closest to his eyes.
Although the sun was behind her, he recognised the formidable outline of one of the district’s leading matrons.
Fortunately she recognised him. ‘Teddy! What on earth do you think you are doing down there?”
He sat on the asphalt at her feet like a supplicant explaining his actions and this is how I found the three of them when I came out of the supermarket.

Eventually the echidna was prodded out of harm’s way, Teddy was brushed down and after numerous apologies for calling her daft and swearing at her and various other abeyances, we left for home.
The second woman wandered off rather disappointed there was not to be any further excitement.
We presume the echidna went home oblivious to the trouble it had caused us and not at all grateful for having its life saved.

Teddy is not looking forward to sitting near the grand matron at the next art gallery meeting.

So Del, if you intend to do a kind deed this week, think carefully and listen well,
Your ‘flower child’ friend
Cynthia.

Letter From The Other Side; from Cynthia.


Dear Del,

The late afternoon sun is shining through the windows showing up all the dust that has settled on the wooden furniture, television screen and knick- knacks in the family room.

Aunt Alice and Uncle Rodger have just left following their first visit to us since we arrived. Despite the fact they now live in a retirement village where neither of them has to lift a finger to do any sort of domestic chore, she was very quick to point out to me before leaving that dusting should be one of my first jobs in the morning.
It was of little use my saying I had wiped all the surfaces this morning and the evening sun always shows up the daily accumulation.
There is something to be said for the darker houses of the past with their small windows… and maids of course.

However during the week, courtesy of our aged aunt and uncle, we gained an extra spring in our step after we spoke to one of our neighbours.
It seems while we were still packing to come here Uncle Rodger persuaded his daughter, the frightful Fran, to take them on the short trip from the retirement village to drive them to see where we were to live.
Our neighbour was outside in his garden and Uncle Rodger not being someone to avoid a chat with anyone strolled across and introduced himself.
We had wondered why the young fellow and his wife smiled at one another when we first met them. Now that we know them a little better they felt free to explain that it was because Uncle Rodger and Aunt Alice had told them that their young niece and nephew were coming to live here.
When we met our neighbours of course it was obvious we are far from young and are in fact retired people and old enough to be their parents.
We all enjoyed the joke at our expense while realizing being almost thirty years younger than the revered ‘oldies’ in their nineties must make us appear forever young in their eyes.
After all Uncle Rodger has been retired ever since we met him as this is the second marriage for them both. He was a family friend of another uncle when his wife died and Aunt Alice had been a widow for a number of years. His first wife had not been dead long at the time of their wedding but as she was the mother of the frightful Fran who evidently takes after her mum in every way, it cannot be a surprise that little Aunt Alice who appears to be gentle and compliant would have appealed to him.
How was he to know that tiny body of hers held a steely backbone and a tongue like a cattle prod?
Aunt Alice was seventy when she married him and so far they have been married twenty five years which makes both their marriages longer than many.

They were telling us today that shortly after they married when Uncle Rodger was still legally able to drive and menace the rest of us on the roads, they had been on holiday in South Australia and were given the opportunity for a joy flight in a small plane.
They took off in the plane marvelling at the sight of the countryside below them. The pilot banked this way and that giving them a roller coaster view of the sea many miles in the distance.
Aunt Alice finished the tale by explaining to me that after they were back on solid ground she had been very frightened and white knuckled as she gripped the arm rests while the pilot banked the plane to turn round in readiness to land on the rough dirt runway in the tiny paddock far below. She hadn’t wanted to go for the ride but thought Uncle Rodger had wanted to and so she didn’t wish to spoil his enjoyment.

Uncle Rodger looked at her with surprise. ‘I didn’t want to go either. After some of my experiences during the war, planes scare the living daylights out of me. I only went because I thought you wanted to experience it!’
For a change we all laughed at the same thing.
Still, they have done us a favour this week because we know now that no matter how old we get or feel, so long as they and those of their age are still with us we will always be young in someone’s eyes.
So long as I stay away from the mirror I will remain for a short time your youthful ‘flower child’ friend,


Cynthia.