The title of today's post is a bastardising of Lev Vygotsky's famous
Through others we become Ourselves quote.
I was thinking about him on Tuesday on the way home from Sheffield.
He was a hot looking Russian psychologist who was photographed with a wonky shirt collar
I like to think he was my kind of guy.
Last night I bathed Mary.
I didn't really have time to do it.
Night shifts mean that there is a quick turn around of eat, shit, sleep and brush teeth before you do the same again, but her skin has been playing up of late and she needed some pamper time without the more ebullient Dorothy bouncing around in the foreground like a loon.
Mary watched me with somber brown eyes as I washed her
Welsh terriers watch you.
They sit and watch everything and all of mine have loved a hot bath where all they have to do is to stand and be pampered.
They watch you slightly worried that the stroking and the warmth and suds and happiness is going to stop and their eyes never leave yours.
It's the nearest moment I will ever to have to having a baby of my own
I met my friend John on Tuesday morning. He has been ill and now really doesn't " do" the more old fashioned Wine glasses into the wee small hours thing that we used to do.
But he looks well, and fit and as always, was dressed to impress
We have evolved as friends and now often meet for a long breakfast , with sausages and eggs and toast and tea ( coffee in my case)
He hasn't the look of a Welsh terrier but like Joan Crawford's wisecracking best friend Ida in Mildred Pierce,
he misses nothing
I saw myself through his eyes on Tuesday.
It wasn't a rebuke, it was a reminder.
I was reminded just how nice my life is now.
My friends and family, my "new " career and new friends and colleagues . My home, my village, my theatre going, my choir......my life.........and... my health
Vygotsky's main work was in child development but his Through others we become ourselves quote rings true on so many levels
When John and I got up to go from the wine bar which now does fancy breakfasts for business folk, and as the snow fell on a grey but welcoming Sheffield City centre,
John turned to me with some exasperated affection and said
" You have tomato sauce down your front!"