Sometimes things just happen in life that make you laugh or cry. One such event happened when I had to go to a nominated solicitor to swear an oath that my father's will was a true original. Let me set the scene: my solicitor (well hardly my solicitor as I am not that much in need of one; but certainly the one we sisters chose to help us through the nightmare that is probate) works in a huge office, with an atrium out back complete with comfortable blue leather sofas and easy chairs. In the vernacular, one might easily term it a "bit posh". On the walls are modern pieces of artwork (for sale I think, but I never wanted to appear too nosey) and myriads of brochures extolling the virtues and practises of said office. The receptionists (notice the plural) sit at a huge desk surrounded by computers and all mod cons. So, that is my solicitors office; the office of the rival is just across the road from them - and up a bit.
This solicitors couldn't have been more different if it had tried. Firstly they were two doors that you had to manoeuvre through; if you had a pram or a wheelchair then you might well have had to change solicitors! The receptionist sat behind an old wooden desk surrounded by paper. No computer for her (that I could see; she might have had one lurking out of sight - I did not actually go up to the desk as you could practically talk from the door, so small was it) and everything was in little index file trays and stout filing cabinets situated behind her. On the walls were caricatures of judges and such like - one was even a proper portrait but the writing was far too small for me to read without getting up from my (un)comfortable hard back dining style chair. Suddenly, out popped a little man (in stature, but rather portly in girth) who was the absolute epitome of how I imagined a solicitor to look. His hair was grey and blossomed like a halo around his head; his suit was blue pinstripe, and rather crumpled at the back where he had perhaps been sitting too long. His shirt was another shade of blue with yet another stripe in it and had a white collar. I know that he was wearing a tie, but I was so mesmerised by the rest of his outfit that I didn't notice whether it was even plain or patterned! Oh my, what a sight, and as he was waiting for his client, I didn't really know where I wanted to look. I struggled to maintain my composure when an almost identical man came scurrying out from somewhere. Brothers perhaps, who knows? He beckoned me to follow him down a short corridor into a room so tiny that it was difficult to shut the door. After swearing on a Bible that was almost as tiny as the room, the deed was done and I went out chuckling to myself at the absurdity of it all. In fact I smiled every time I thought about the funny little men in the antiquated office.
If that little episode made me smile, another incident made me want to throttle the irresponsible idiot who was riding a little moped (or scooter - I don't really know what the difference is between them) around the streets with a child that could have been no more than three or four as a front pillion passenger. This little child had a helmet on, but didn't appear to be held on by any other means other than holding onto the handlebars. I was absolutely dumbfounded the first time I saw them as they waited at the very busy junction where I live. The next time I saw the rider he was obviously on the way back as he suddenly pulled into a little alley and disappeared from sight. Talk about never seeing a policeman when you want one. To be honest I didn't quite know what to do; he was gone before I even had chance to really register what was going on and then the second time was pure luck, but I had no idea where he was heading. Why people are so keen to kill some poor innocent is beyond my ken, but the rider couldn't have had much of a brain, so maybe that explains it as I certainly can't.
The next event that made me have sessions of weeping and "being choked up" was whilst I was watching the Queen's Diamond Jubilee celebrations. I couldn't believe that something like that would be so very emotional for me. Maybe it was because I am still in a state of shock over my father's death; it could be that I like to think that I am patriotic and it was a time to be proud to be British; or it could have simply been hormones! Who knows? And to be honest, who cares? I loved all of the pomp and ceremony of the bits that I did sit down and watch though; you would not have got me into London for love nor money as I hate crowds, and besides, you see much more on the television - and in comfort too. I think I am just a very emotional person - and I know my younger sister shares the same trait as we both sob uncontrollably at the Remembrance evening held at the Royal Albert Hall in November when all the poppy leaves (each leaf representing one service man or woman killed in all the conflicts from the Great War onwards) fall silently to the ground. Never fails to move me, but then I think that we should be moved at such senseless waste of life.
That's all for now. The day started very wet and has since dried up, but the gale force winds have not abated all day. The tree opposite has been shaking and shivering - just like me actually, and I can't believe that we are supposed to be in "flaming" June. During the last week of May my heating was not turned on at all and yet this week I have had to resort to putting it back on again. Typical British weather is all I can say; and now, even as I sit and write this in the early evening, the sun has decided to show itself just before it goes to bed.
I am not saying any more, other than please take care until the next time I write. And I would love you to follow my blogs and even make comments if you feel impressed.
Thanks for stopping by and I hope you come back again.
Susan :)
P.S. I think I remember telling you last time that I would do a short blog on positive mental attitude - and I haven't done that yet, for which I apologise. I am just off now to make myself a little note as a job to do another day. Memory - maybe I should trade mine in for a slighter newer model.....
No comments:
Post a Comment