This is a tale of two women. Number one sleeps well in a comfortable bed in a pretty room. If she wakes in the night always a good book to hand to help get back to sleep. Ill in the night, fall during the day, alarm watch worn 24 hours a day, instant attention if button pressed. She wakes, on swim-suit, reflective swim, calming, lovely strong water jets to make you tingle. Hot shower, back to breakfast delivered. Check mails, read Moodscope, usually instant reaction to reply to later. Programme for the day, physical and cerebral. Lunch, there are problems, but theoretically meals are very well balanced, a choice, plenty of fruit and veg, always good bread. The roof garden is a huge bonus, I shall probably live up there in the summer and watch the lives of people in smaller flats opposite. The days of not even saying ‘Bon jour’ to somebody for weeks on end  are at an end. Supper, then Scrabble with two very bright people. Then TV, huge choice of programmes, only in French or German, no UK except World News, get enough of that. And so to bed , my book and security.

Number Two sketched out these notes for this blog/post some days ago. She is fighting extreme irritability. It is as grey and cold in the South as in Normandy. My co-oldies seem worse, more demanding, ruder (this is meal-times). The pool was cold (a Sunday) got so cold shivered all day. Did not dare swim on Monday as had a most challenging day with paper work which would not die down after the move.  Warmer on Wednesday, but shower stone cold. My room shower has nowhere to put flannel, shampoo etc you have to fish around on the floor for it. People with glasses, how do they manage.

I had a printed invitation – to cocktails with other new residents and some of the staff. So I dressed up a bit, waste. Staff cheerful but rather dim chap in charge of entertainments. We were invited to talk about ourselves, take something of interest. One lady produced a model shoe from the factory where she worked. The conversation turned on comfortable shoes, we did NOT get to know each other. By that time I was tired, cross and confused. One man on lunch table grumbles non-stop. Message from bank, current account overdrawn. DO something before 6pm, or would be charged. Tried a transfer, said would take two days, panic, had hit wrong button, all OK.

Supper an ordeal, due to my intolerance to dairy produce, so many meals cheese. One night I had nothing, not even ham and salad. I DID complain, no reply or apology. The shepherd’s pie the next night had lumps of raw potato in it.

So – the stories of both these women are true. The niggles are here to stay, they will not be changed. So Woman One has to find a modus operandi. Do you tend to let the minor niggles totally colour your day? 

The Gardener

A Moodscope member