The portraits were pretty fun – some actually amazing
really. In the wrap-up, they were shown around and everyone tried to guess who
they were. A number of the cup structures were wonderfully amazing – it was
obvious who had the mechanical brains. No sooner had these awesome feats of
symmetry been completed then from this table or that you’d hear the best of
their efforts come clattering down, or alternately catch the cascade out of the
corner of your eye as it came tumbling down, to end in a disjointed heap on the
floor – usually about the time one team member got it in their mind to tweak
the design just one last, little bit – accompanied by a stream of ‘aahs.’ What
came out of the different life experiences in the form of the stories and poems
was quite clever and revealing as well.
All of the judging was done on a point system;
plenty of competition around here – a universal human trait, I suppose! As I
had come late to the activity, and never did attach myself to any one group,
Lorraine commandeered me to help decide which of the contributions were the
fittest. I had brought Chloe up with me from the ‘dungeon’ – very curious about
what was going on, and on the picture competition let her decide the ‘very
best.’ (A totally illogical way of doing it, I will be the first to admit, but,
heck, you’ve got to make a call one way or another, and I figured that way was
as good as any. It was hard enough to decide on the other feats, there were SO
many good entrees to choose from.)
Went on a short walk with Roger in the afternoon.
(He is experiencing a painful knee and couldn’t bear to go far. I asked him how
it had happened, and, as a man, was loath to admit that it had occurred in the
most mundane of fashions. On one of his most recent visits to New York, he had
been in a hotel whose rooms sported sunken baths. He said he had been easing
himself out of it when all of a sudden, out of the blue, a tremendous pain shot
through his knee. Since then, this or that has aggravated it further. His
doctor has said let’s see if it heals on its own – a patron I was talking to
said if it’s a ligament it is not able to repair itself short of surgery. (He’s
going home to request an MRI.) To give her a chance to get out for a change, we
took that bouncing Chloe along with.
The two of us had a great conversation – found that
Roger is quite conservative, as am I. We’d begun by talking about something as
everyday as the preponderance of swearing you hear around here (like I have mentioned
recently – glad to know SOMEBODY besides me noticed). Roger said he doesn’t hear it like that even
in the big American cities he frequents often, adding that England has become a
Godless society – and he’s saying that as a citizen who lives here, not from a
visitor’s perspective, as I might do! He stated that nowadays there are more
(people) in the prisons and less in the churches.
Another topic of interest was the horrendous state
of the national health system (NHS), a subject looming big in the news at the
present time. After years of complaints
and campaigns from loved ones, of their sick and elderly relatives dying
needlessly from neglect and malnutrition, the issue has finally reached the
light of day. Reports are even naming hospitals that statistically show an
excessively high death rate compared to the inconsequential type of procedures
that had been performed. Roger’s own mother fell prey to this appalling
treatment and died in a hospital right along a familiar walking path I often took
in Selly Oak, on Raddlebarn Road, as you follow it down towards the Sainsburys located
on Bristol Road. (That facility is now shut down, its operations having been
moved into the ostentatious Queen Elizabeth Hospital – a ‘shining beacon’ up there
on the hill. But don’t be fooled - doesn’t necessarily mean best practices have
changed, however – perhaps it is more like a ‘whited sepulcher.’)
For dinner, having acted well my part, I had ultimately alighted next to a
woman in our group of singles, sitting at a table by herself – not as ‘by
herself’ as it may sound, as there were others to every side of her. (I was
quite pleased to find that this sister was one whose name I’d heard mentioned
on many occasions in Relief Society – in regards to her own health problems,
plus that of her blind, invalid mother, who though not a member of the congregation
would love some company. I had said to myself many a time, ‘I want to look into
this – I want to follow through on this suggestion,’ and then never have. How
perfect – got to know Mandy, hear more about her mom, plus get directions to
their house!)
(Now here’s where things get interesting . . .) As
it had been a busy, and distracting, last few days I had determined that
following tea I would make a beeline for my room and my friendly companion, the
computer. I was just saying adieu to Mandy, when a man I had not been aware of
before plunked himself down on an adjoining chair and began chatting me up (aka
asking me about myself). I was perfectly content to go through this exercise –
he was interesting enough – and, after a bit, began to excuse myself, as had
been my original intention, but as it goes, kept right on talking. Eventually I
was intrigued enough – thinking why waste a perfectly good occasion to talk to
an okay guy (not enough of those opportunities come along, I can tell you). I
led us to a quiet spot – remembering that the singles in the main are a
gregarious, boisterous bunch. We sat off to the side in the 2nd
floor entry and chatted for several hours.
Connell Fleming, both parents from Ireland, has
never married – good looking, smart and prosperous enough – lives in Guilford
(a pretty nice town towards the south east corner of London), owns his own
telecommunications company. I had started my part of the conversation, knowing
I wanted to stay away from my proposed tasks only briefly, by saying, ‘how
about telling me a little about yourself – briefly,’ and then Connell had totally
overlooked my request and began exploring his upbringing in the most minute of
details. It was all very interesting, and for several hours we shared and I
asked lots of questions for clarification. Eventually I said, ‘I could go on
talking to you the rest of the night’ (exactly the words I’d said to Roger the
night before) ‘but I really must go and get some beauty sleep to get me through
tomorrow.’ (The great thing is that through that connection Connell has offered
to show Becky and me around in London, saying he had done that for BYU students
on many occasions in the past.)
As I came down the stairs I immediately
encountered Roger in the hallway who cordially said, ‘where have you been all
night – I’ve been looking for you? Come and dance,’ as he steered me by the arm
into the bar – which we did, eventually sitting down at the table with him and
Andy (both of whom I feel quite close to as they are from my old familiar Harborne
Ward in Birmingham). I wondered what Connell must have thought when he, too,
ended up in that same room where many of the singles were enjoying themselves,
including my friend, Carole, who was dancing the night away. Andy was a natural
Elvis on karaoke – I had NO idea! (Others migrated to the lounge, where there
are board games, cards, and the billiard table.) Quite honestly Roger has my
interest in a more serious fashion – I can visualize an ongoing relationship
there, in a way I cannot with Connell. Was finally able to disengage myself, as
much as I wanted to stay, and went to get that beauty sleep I’d been alluding
to the entire evening – but this time REALLY meaning it in earnest. (Don’t you
know, if it rains – it pours!)
Photos_
1- on the beach with Chloe
2- stories, pictures, poems & sculptures
3- what had been an amazing tower seconds before
4- sisters with construction, and Adrian
5- Polly (that's Roger hiding behind me)
5- Polly (that's Roger hiding behind me)
