After trying out 3 different tables, I eventually settle onto a cosy window seat, its back rest comfortably provided by a large double glazed window. On hot summer days, the entire width of these glass panels can be folded, concertina-style, delightfully bathing café tables in unfiltered sunshine.
As for today, my seemingly nonsensical game of musical chairs is fast becoming embarrassing, made all the more obvious by fluorescent rainwear, a brightly coloured folded bike and copious amount of ‘stuff’ that has to be lugged from one table to another. It’s pointless explaining that I’m seeking a spot where I cease to feel bombarded by the sound emanating from a single speaker over the baristas’ station. It’s creating a painful roaring sound between my ears.
This is another unfortunate consequence of hitting my head rather hard. I’m stuck with an over-sensitivity to sound, a weird sense of tuning and ever changing tinnitus that sometimes hurts. It also regularly contributes to my general state of ‘befuddlement’. Until I learned to accept this situation, as you would a lovable but oh-so irritating friend who just won’t go away, getting a handle on it was like trying to play a game of chess with a 2 year old. Fortunately, the brain is an amazing and complex thing; our ability to learn to cope with these challenges, just as remarkable. Despite all the inconvenience when they ‘go wrong’, I reckon that we’re better remaining grateful (as long as humanly possible) that we have them at all!
It’s such a relief to be in the warm today and cuddling my cuppa is comforting after a difficult ride. It’s an odd state of affairs, feeling colder than usual, despite being told that the weather is warming up. Many of us have been feeling demoralised by this relentless wet and dull spring. Should you happen to be that rare animal that remains upbeat with a sunny disposition, regardless of the weather, I strongly appeal to you to consider starting your own blog to cheer us all up.
On the most part, being able to put on and take off layers whilst cycling means that you can remain comfortable in all but the most extreme of weathers. You learn to value those fleecy ear-warming headbands and Buff neck tubes, merino wool vests (that resist getting smelly better than most fabrics) and layers that zip up or down, depending whether you’re developing goose bumps or turning into a mobile greenhouse.
Windproof cycling gilets come in handy for those of us creating extra wind by pushing ourselves fast enough through the air (they do say a good pun is it’s own reward!). Those with numerous and useful pockets can be particularly useful, ending up stuffed with keys, phones, cards, earphones, money and an assortment of ‘just in case’ boiled sweets, suspect pieces of tissue paper, old receipts etc…. In fact, more or less everything that you might find in a small handbag, or man-bag of course!
Today is one of those extreme days when the usual rules don’t seem to apply. With everything shrouded in mist, but theoretically not ‘that cold’, the damp manages to permeate all those layers, oblivious even to the waterproofs that cover them. It’s absolutely impossible to keep warm, more akin to climbing fully clothed into a bath of icy water. Well, what should we expect, cycling through rainclouds?
There’s not much along the parkland pathway to suggest enthusiasm from any quarter and frankly, my need to cope with such a miserable state of affairs makes me want to cover myself from head to toe in a tent of plastic and stay put until someone tells me otherwise. I’m unable to distract myself by enjoying views, by ‘people watching’ or indeed by movement of any kind. A few wilting daffodils just doesn’t cut the mustard.
I’m hoping you won’t begrudge me admitting to my sense of misery, as it hopefully makes what follows more dramatic in a sense. It’s a strange thing, that as soon as we are ready to concede defeat, how that seed of optimism can sometimes pop up, unexpectedly. Today, it came in the form of nudge. “Keep looking,” it seemed to say. Whereupon, borders full of freshly planted, primroses and hyacinths, full of colour and overhung with cherry blossoms came into view around the very next corner. But there was more to it than that. As it’s so difficult to explain, I shall approach it from a different direction in a moment or two.
I’d so like to introduce you to the good friend who walks into the cafe at this point. A few years ago, he introduced me to local cycling groups and unwittingly gave me my life back, plus some. “I’m just here for a warm,” he says, as he takes his seat at a table opposite.
“Do you have your bike?”, I ask, noting a conspicuous lack of his usual cycling attire.
“Not the kind of weather”, he candidly replies, turning round to get his hot drink order in, pronto. The staff seem exceptionally cheerful and friendly today. It all helps!
“So, how are you?” I ask shortly, envying the wedge of chocolate cake with thick butter icing making its way towards his table.
“I don’t know” he shivers, “I can’t feel myself. Curious… I’m sooo cold!”
A few years ago, a survey revealed that one of the nation’s most popular words was discombobulated, meaning confused, disconcerted, frustrated or upset. I love to read excepts from a blog entitled ‘Discombobulated Del’. It was articulately written by a woman whose charismatic and likeable personality imprinted itself on each and every page, as she attempted to document her battle with illness under a sometimes inadequate health system. She was as hilarious as she was insightful and I can’t help thinking that she has been immortalised by her precious words.
As it happens, the nation’s favourite word was ‘serendipity’. It more or less refers to good things that we stumble upon by chance, often with a smattering of coincidence in the mix. ‘Serendipidy’ perfectly describes the nature of what I chanced upon today. It wasn’t just about finding a patch of flowers. That would be plain daft! OR that the surrounding grass appeared to have taken on a lush, rich shade of velvety greenness that made me want to lie down and roll on it. No! The wierdest thing of all was that the whole lot appeared to be faintly glowing!!!
“You’re right”, my red cheeked friend replies after I’ve finished my tale. “You really have to look… and peel away the mist to see. But you really DO have to look otherwise, chance is, you won’t see it.”
Thankfully, my friend’s admission makes me feel far less self-conscious about telling YOU!
Coffee: A warm delicious alternative to hating everyone every morning forever – Kim Bongiorno
Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it – Roald Dahl
If our mushrooms make you hallucinate, please inform us immediately so we can overcharge you – Scott Adams
